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15795	----	THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP Or, The Rivals of Pine Island by Arthur M. Winfield 1904 INTRODUCTION My Dear Boys: "The Rover Boys in Camp" is a complete story in itself, but forms the eighth volume of "The Rover Boys Series for Young Americans." As I have mentioned before, when I started this line of stories I had in mind to make not more than three, or possibly four, volumes. But the publication of "Rover Boys at School," "Rover Boys on the Ocean," "Rover Boys in the Jungle," and "Rover Boys Out West" did not appear to satisfy my readers, and so I followed with "Rover Boys on the Great Lakes," "Rover Boys in the Mountains," and lastly with "Rover Boys on Land and Sea." But the publishers say there is still a cry for "more! more!" and so I now present to you this new Rover Boys book, which relates the adventures of Dick, Tom, and Sam, and a number of their old-time friends, at home, at dear old Putnam Hall, and in camp on Pine Island. In writing this tale I have had in mind two thoughts--one to give my young readers an out-and-out story of jolly summer adventure, along with a little touch of mystery, and the other to show them that it very often pays to return good for evil. Arnold Baxter had done much to bring trouble to the Rover family, but what Dick Rover did in return was Christian-like in the highest meaning of that term. Dick was not a "goody-goody" youth, but he was a thoroughly manly one, and his example is well worth following by any lad who wishes to make something of himself. Once more let me thank all of those who have expressed themselves as satisfied with the previous stories in this series. I earnestly trust the present volume will also prove acceptable to them, and will do them good. Affectionately and sincerely yours, ARTHUR M. WINFIELD. CONTENTS I. The Rover Boys at Home II. News of Interest III. A Midnight Visitor IV. A Useless Pursuit V. On the Way to Putnam Hall VI. Fun on the Boat VII. Something About the Military Academy VIII. A Scene in the Gymnasium IX. Settling Down to Study X. An Adventure in Cedarville XI. A Quarrel and it Results XII. The Election for Officers XIII. The Fight at the Boathouse XIV. Getting Ready for the Encampment XV. On the March to the Camp XVI. The First Day on Pine Island XVII. The Enemy Plot Mischief XVIII. Hazers at Work XIX. A Storm in Camp XX. The Rover Boys and the Ball XXI. A Tug of War XXII. A Swim and Some Snakes XXIII. A Glimpse of an Old Enemy XXIV. More Rivalry XXV. Winning the Contests XXVI. Sam Shows What He Can Do XXVII. A Prisoner of the Enemy XXVIII. Dick's Midnight Adventure XXIX. True Heroism XXX. Turning a New Leaf--Conclusion CHAPTER I THE ROVER BOYS AT HOME "All out for Oak Run!" shouted the brakeman of the train, as he thrust his head in through the doorway of the car. "Step lively, please!" "Hurrah for home!" shouted a curly-headed youth of sixteen, as he caught up a small dress-suit case. "Come on, Sam." "I'm coming, Tom," answered a boy a year younger. "Where is Dick?" "Here I am," replied Dick Rover, the big brother of the others. "Just been in the baggage car, making sure the trunks would be put off," he added. "Say, but this looks natural, doesn't it, after traveling thousands of miles across the Pacific?" "And across the Continent from San Francisco," put in Sam Rover. "Do you know, I feel as if I'd been away for an age?" "It's what we've gone through with that makes you feel that way, Sam," came from Tom Rover. "Just think of being cast away on a lonely island like Robinson Crusoe! Why, half the folks won't believe our story when they hear it." "They'll have to believe it." Sam hopped down to the depot platform, followed by the others. "Wonder if the folks got that telegram I forwarded from Buffalo?" "They must have, for there is Jack with the big carriage," said Tom, and walked over to the turnout he mentioned. "Hullo, Jack!" he called out. "How is everybody?" "Master Tom!" ejaculated Jack Ness, the Rovers' hired man. "Back at last, are you, an' safe an' sound?" "Sound as a dollar, Jack. How are the folks?" "Your father is putty well, and so is your Uncle Randolph. Your Aunt Martha got so excited a-thinkin' you was coming hum she got a headache." "Dear Aunt Martha!" murmured Tom. "I'll soon cure her of that." He turned to his brothers. "What shall we do about the trunks? We can't take 'em in the carriage." "Aleck is comin' for them boxes," said the hired man. "There's his wagon now." A box wagon came dashing up to the depot platform, with a tall, good-looking colored man on the seat. The eyes of the colored man lit up with pleasure when he caught sight of the boys. "Well! well! well!" he ejaculated, leaping down and rushing forward. "Heah yo' are at las', bless you! I'se been dat worried 'bout yo' I couldn't 'most sleep fo' t'ree nights. An' jess to t'ink yo' was cast away on an island in de middle of dat Pacific Ocean! It's a wonder dem cannonballs didn't eat yo' up." "Thanks, but we didn't meet any 'cannonballs,' Aleck, I am thankful to say," replied Dick Rover. "Our greatest trouble was with some mutineers who got drunk and wanted to run things to suit themselves. They might have got the best of us, but a warship visited the island just in the nick of time and rescued us." "So I heared out ob dat letter wot yo' writ yo' father. An' to t'ink dat Miss Dora Stanhope and de Laning gals was wrecked wid yo'! It's wonderful!" "It certainly was strange, Aleck. But, come, I am anxious to get home. Here are the trunk checks," and Dick passed the brasses over. In a moment more the three boys had entered the carriage, along with Jack Ness. Tom insisted on driving, and away they went at a spanking gait, over Swift River, through the little village of Dexter's Corners, and then out on the road that led to Valley Brook farm. As my old readers know, the Rover boys were three in number, as already introduced. They were the sons of Anderson Rover, a well-to-do gentleman, who was now living in retirement at Valley Brook, in company with his brother Randolph, and the latter's wife, Martha. While Anderson Rover had been on a hunt for gold in the heart of Africa, the three boys had been sent by their Uncle Randolph to a military academy known as Putnam Hall. Here they made many friends and also a few enemies, the worst of the latter being Dan Baxter, a bully who wanted his way in everything. Baxter was the offspring of a family of low reputation, and his father, Arnold Baxter, was now in prison for various misdeeds. The first term at school had been followed by an exciting chase on the ocean, after which the boys had gone with their uncle to the jungles of Africa, in a search after Anderson Rover. After the parent was found it was learned that Arnold Baxter was trying to swindle the Rovers out of a valuable gold mine in the far West, but this plot, after some exciting adventures, was nipped in the bud. The trip West had tired the boys, and they hailed an outing on the Great Lakes with delight. During this outing they learned something about a treasure located in the heart of the Adirondack Mountains, and the next winter visited the locality and unearthed a box containing gold, silver, and precious stones, worth several thousands of dollars. During this treasure-hunt Dan Baxter did his best to bring the Rover boys to grief, but without success. After the winter in the Adirondacks, the boys had expected to return at once to Putnam Hall to continue their studies. But three pupils were taken down with scarlet fever, and the academy was promptly closed by the master, Captain Victor Putnam. "That gives us another holiday," Tom had said. "Let us put in the time by traveling," and, later on, it was decided that the boys should visit California for their health. This they did, and in the seventh volume of this series, entitled "The Rover Boys on Land and Sea," I related the particulars of how they were carried off to sea during a violent storm, in company with three of their old-time girl friends, Dora Stanhope and her cousins, Nellie and Grace Laning. It may be mentioned here that Dick thought Dora Stanhope the sweetest girl in the world, and Tom and Sam were equally smitten with Nellie and Grace Laning. Being cast away on the Pacific was productive of additional adventures and surprises. On a ship that picked the girls and boys up they fell in again with Dan Baxter, and he did all in his power to make trouble for them. When all were cast away on a deserted island, Dan Baxter joined some mutineers among the sailors, and there was a fight which threatened to end seriously for our friends. But as luck would have it, a United States warship hove into sight, and from that moment the boys and girls, and the friends, who had stuck to them through thick and thin, were safe. Before the warship left the island a search was made for Dan Baxter and for those who had mutinied with him. But the bully and his evil-minded followers kept out of sight, and so they were left behind to shift for themselves. "Do you think that we will ever see Dan Baxter again?" Sam had questioned. "I hardly think so," had been Dick's reply. But in this surmise the elder Rover boy was mistaken, as later events will prove. The journey across the Pacific to San Francisco was accomplished without incident. As soon as the Golden Gate was reached the boys, and also the girls, sent telegrams to their folks, telling them that all was well. Mrs. Stanhope was staying at Santa Barbara for her health. All of the girls had been stopping with her, and now it was decided that Dora, Nellie, and Grace should go to her again. "It's too bad we must part," Dick had said, as he squeezed Dora's hand. "But you are coming East soon, aren't you?" "In a month or two, yes. And what will you do?" "Go back to Putnam Hall most likely--if the scarlet fever scare is over." "Then we'll be likely to see you again before long," and Dora smiled her pleasure. "It will be like old times to get back to the Hall again," Sam had put in. "But first, I want to go home and see the folks." "Right you are," had come from Tom. "I reckon they are dead anxious to see us, too." And so they had parted, with tight hand-squeezing and bright smiles that meant a good deal. One train had taken the girls southward to Santa Barbara, and another had taken the boys eastward to Denver and to Chicago. At the latter city the lads had made a quick change, and twenty-six hours later found them at Oak Run, and in the carriage for the farm. CHAPTER II NEWS OF INTEREST "My boys! my boys!" Such was the cry given by Anderson Rover, when he caught sight of the occupants of the carriage, as the turnout swept up to the piazza of the comfortable farm home. "Home again! Home again Safe from a foreign shore!" sang out Tom, and leaping to the ground, he caught his father around the shoulders. "Aren't you glad to see us, father?" he went on. "Glad doesn't express it, Tom," replied the fond parent, as he embraced first one and then another. "My heart is overflowing with joy, and I thank God that you have returned unharmed, after having passed through so many grave perils. How brown all of you look!" "Tanned by the tropical sun," answered Sam. "Oh, here is Aunt Martha, and Uncle Randolph!" "Sam!" burst out the motherly aunt, as she kissed him. "Oh, how you must have suffered on that lonely island!" And then she kissed the others. "We've certainly had our fill of adventures," came from Dick, who was shaking hands with his Uncle Randolph. "And more than once we thought we should never see Valley Brook farm again." "We were real Robinson Crusoes," went on Sam. "And the girls were Robinson Crusoes, too." "Are the girls well?" questioned Mrs. Rover. "Very well, auntie. If they hadn't been we shouldn't have parted with them in San Francisco. They went back to Santa Barbara to finish their vacation." "I see. Well, it certainly was a wonderful trip. You'll have to tell us all the particulars this evening. I suppose you are as hungry as bears just now. Tom is, I'm sure." "Oh, Aunt Martha, I see you haven't forgotten my failing," piped in the youth mentioned, with a twinkle in his eye. "And do I get pie for dinner?" "Yes, Tom, and all you care to eat, too. We are going to make your home-coming a holiday." "Good!" They were soon in the house, every nook and corner of which was so familiar to them. They rushed up to their rooms, and, after a brushing and a washing up, came down to the big dining room, where the table fairly groaned with good things. "Gosh! this is a regular Christmas spread!" observed Tom, as he looked the table over. "Tell you what, Aunt Martha, I'm going to be cast away every week after this." "Oh, Tom, don't speak of it! After this you must stay right here. Neither your father nor your uncle nor myself will want to leave you out of sight." "Pooh! We can't stay home. But we'll be careful of our trips in the future, you can be sure of that." "Have you heard anything about Putnam Hall since we went away?" asked Dick, during the meal. "The academy opened again last week, Dick," answered his father. "We received a circular letter from Captain Putnam. The scarlet fever scare did not amount to much, for which the captain is very thankful." "I sent him a telegram, stating we were safe," said Sam. "I knew he would like to hear from us. The captain is a brick." "The best ever," said Tom, with his mouth full of chicken. "And ditto, Mr. Strong," put in Dick, referring to the head assistant at the Hall. "Exactly, Dick. But no more Jasper Grinders in mine," went on Tom, referring to a tyrannical teacher who had caused them much trouble, and who had been discharged from the academy, as already mentioned in "The Rover Boys in the Mountains." "Or Josiah Crabtrees," said Dick, referring to another teacher, who had been made to leave Putnam Hall, and who had wanted to marry the widow Stanhope, in an endeavor to get control of the money that was coming to Dora. Crabtree's misdeeds had landed him in prison, where he was likely to stay for some time to come. While the meal was still in progress the boys began the recital of their many adventures, and this recital was kept up until a late hour. It was astonishing how much they had to tell, and how interesting it proved to the listeners. "You might make a book of it," said Anderson Rover. "It equals our adventures in the jungles of Africa." "I am going to write it out some day," answered Dick. "And, maybe, I'll get the story printed. The trouble is, I can't end the tale properly." "How is that, Dick?" asked his Uncle Randolph. "You were all saved. Isn't that a proper ending for any book?" "Yes, but what of the villain? Baxter didn't show himself, and that is no ending at all. He should have fallen over a cliff, or been shot, or something like that." "And we should have married the three girls," put in fun-loving Tom. "That would make the story even more complete." "Well, things do not happen in real life as they do in story books," said the parent. "It is likely you will never hear of Dan Baxter again. But we may hear from his father." "His father!" exclaimed the three youths in concert. "Why, Arnold Baxter is in prison," added Sam. "He was, up to five days ago, when they took him to the hospital to undergo some sort of an operation. At the hospital the operation was postponed for a day, and during the night he slipped away from the institution and disappeared." "Well, I never!" burst out Dick. "Isn't he the slick one, though! Just when you think you've got him hard and fast, you haven't at all." "Haven't they any trace of him?" asked Sam. "None, so far as I have heard. There was a report that he had gone to New York and taken passage on a ship bound for Liverpool, but at present the ship is on the Atlantic, so the authorities can do nothing." "I hope they catch him." "We all hope that, Sam." For a few days the three boys did nothing but take it easy. It was pleasant weather, and they roamed around the farm in company with their father and their uncle, or with Alexander Pop, the colored man of work. As my old readers know, Pop had been in former days a waiter at Putnam Hall, and Dick, Tom, and Sam had befriended him on more than one occasion, for which he was extremely grateful. "Yo' boys is jes' naturally fust-class heroes," said Aleck one day. "Even if dem cannonballs had cum after yo', I don't t'ink da could have cotched yo', no, sirree!" "It's a pity you weren't along, Aleck," answered Tom. "I can't say as to dat, Master Tom. I got 'bout all de hair-raisin' times I wanted when we was in de jungles ob Africy. I'se only sorry ob one t'ing." "And what is that?" "Dat you didn't jes' go an' frow dat Dan Baxter overboard from dat ship de fust time yo' sot eyes on him. Suah as yo' am born he'll turn up some day to make moah trouble." "Well, if he turns up we'll be ready for him," returned Tom grimly. "How can yo' be ready fo' a pusson wot acts like a snake in de grass? He'll sting befo' yo' hab de chance to spot him." "We'll have to keep our eyes open, Aleck," answered the youth; and then the subject was changed. During those days the boys went fishing and bathing in the river, and also visited Humpback Falls, that spot where Sam had had such a thrilling adventure, as related in "The Rover Boys at School." "What a lot has happened since those days," said Sam, taking a deep breath. "Tom, do you remember how you got into trouble with old Crabtree the very first day we landed at Putnam Hall?" "I do, Sam; and do you remember our first meeting, on the boat, with Dan Baxter, and how we sent him about his business when he tried to annoy Nellie, and Grace, and Dora?" "Yes, indeed. Say, I am getting anxious to get back to the Hall. It seems almost like a second home." "So am I," put in Dick. "Besides, we have lost time enough from our studies. We'll have to pitch in, or we'll drop behind our classes." "Father says we can return to the Hall next Monday, if we wish." "I vote we do so." "So do I." And thus it was decided that they should return to the academy four days later. But during those four days something was to happen which would have an important bearing upon their future actions. CHAPTER III A MIDNIGHT VISITOR The next day, shortly after noon, it began to rain, and the storm increased in violence until the wind blew almost a gale. The rain kept the boys indoors, at which Tom was inclined to grumble. "No use of grumbling, Tom," said Dick cheerfully. "Let us improve the time by looking over our school books. That will make it easier to slip into the grind again when we get back to the Hall." "That is excellent advice, Richard," said Randolph Rover. "Whatever you do, do not neglect your studies." "By the way, Uncle Randolph, how is scientific farming progressing?" said Tom, referring to something that had been his uncle's hobby for years--a hobby that had cost the gentleman considerable money. "Well--ah--to tell the truth, Thomas, not as well as I had hoped for." "Hope you didn't drop a thousand or two this year, uncle?" "Oh, no--not over fifty dollars." "Then you got off easy." "I shall do better next year. The potatoes already show signs of improvement." "Good! I suppose you'll be growing 'em on top of the ground soon. Then you won't have the bother of digging 'em, you know," went on the fun-loving boy innocently. "Absurd, Thomas! But I shall have some very large varieties, I feel certain." "Big as a watermelon?" "Hardly, but--" "Big as a muskmelon, then?" "Not exactly, but--" "About the size of a cocoanut, eh?" "No! no! They will be as large as--" "I mean a little cocoanut," pleaded Tom, while Sam felt like laughing outright. "Well, yes, a little cocoanut. You see--" "We saw some big potatoes in California, Uncle Randolph." "Ah! Of what variety?" "_Cornus bustabus_, or something like that. Sam, what was the name, do you know?" "That must be something like it, Tom," grinned the youngest Rover. "Took two men to lift some of those potatoes," went on Tom calmly. "Two men? Thomas, surely you are joking." "No, uncle, I am telling nothing but the strict truth." "But two men! The potatoes must have been of monstrous size!" "Oh, not so very big. But they did weigh a good deal, no question of it." "Think of two men lifting one potato!" "I didn't say one potato, Uncle Randolph. I said some of those potatoes." "Eh?" "The men had a barrel full of 'em." "Thomas!" The uncle shook his finger threateningly. "At your old tricks, I see. I might have known it." And then he stalked off to hide his chagrin. "Tom, that was rather rough on Uncle Randolph," said Sam, after a laugh. "So it was, Sam. But I've got to do something. This being boxed up, when one might be fishing or swimming, or playing baseball, is simply dreadful," answered the other. Just before the evening meal was announced Jack Ness came up from the barn, and sought out Randolph Rover. "Found a man slinking around the cow-shed a while ago," he said. "He looked like a tramp. I wanted to talk to him, but he scooted in double-quick order." "Humph! We haven't had any tramps here in a long time," came from Randolph Rover. "Where did he go to?" "Down toward the berry patch." "Did you follow him up?" "I did, sir, but he got away from me." "You must keep a close watch for those fellows," said Randolph Rover bluntly. "I don't want any of them getting in our barn and burning it down to the ground." "You are right, Randolph," said Anderson Rover. "Make them keep away from the place by all means, Jack." "I'll keep my eye peeled for 'em," answered the hired man. The wind was now blowing a gale, causing the trees near the farmhouse to creak and groan, and banging more than one shutter. But the boys did not mind this, and went to bed promptly at the usual hour. "A storm like this on land is nothing to one on the sea," was the way Tom expressed himself. "I don't like anything better than to listen to the whistling of the wind when I am snug in bed." For the time being Sam and Tom were occupying a room in the L of the farmhouse, and Dick had a small bedchamber adjoining. The boys were soon undressed, and, having said their prayers, hopped into bed, and were soon sound asleep. It was not until half an hour later that the older folks retired. Anderson Rover was the last to leave the sitting room, where he had been busy writing some letters at the desk that stood there. As he was about to retire he fancied he heard a noise outside of one of the windows. He drew up the curtain and looked through the glass, but could see nothing. "It must have been the wind," he murmured. "But, somehow, it didn't sound like it." As he stepped into the dark hallway an uneasy feeling took possession of him--a feeling hard to define, and one for which he could not account. "I think I had better go around and see that all the doors and windows are properly locked," he told himself. "Brother Randolph may have overlooked one of them." He walked the length of the hallway, and stepped into the kitchen and over to a side window. As he had his hand on the window-latch he heard a quick step directly behind him. He started to turn, but before he could do so he received a blow on the head from a club that staggered him. Then he was jerked backward to the floor. "Silence!" muttered a voice close to his ear. "Don't you dare to make a sound!" "What does this mean--" he managed to gasp. "Silence, I tell you!" was the short answer. "If you say another word, I will hit you again!" Having no desire to receive a blow that might render him totally unconscious, or, perhaps, take his life, Anderson Rover said no more. He heard a match struck, and then a bit of a tallow candle was lit and placed on the edge of the kitchen table. By this dim light the father of the Rover boys saw standing over him a tall man, beardless, and with his head closely cropped. One glance into that hardened face sufficed to tell him who the unwelcome visitor was. "Arnold Baxter!" "I see you recognize me," was the harsh reply. "Not so loud, please, unless you want that crack I promised you." "What brings you here, and at such an hour as this?" "I find it more convenient to travel during the night than in the daytime." "The police are on your track." "I know that as well you, Rover." "What do you want here?" "What does any man want when he has been stripped of all his belongings? I want money." "I have none for you." "Bosh! Do you think I have forgotten how you and your boys swindled me out of my rights to that mine in the far West?" "We did not swindle you, Baxter. The claim was lawfully mine." "I can't stop to argue the question, and I don't want you to talk so loud, remember that. No, don't try to get up," went on the midnight visitor, as Anderson Rover attempted to rise. "Stay just where you are." He was feeling in his pocket, and now he brought forth a strip of cloth, with a knot tied in the middle. It was a gag, and he started to place it in Anderson Rover's mouth, when the latter leaped up and began to struggle with all the force he could command. "Stop, I tell you!" cried Arnold Baxter softly. "Stop!" And then, catching up his club once more, he dealt Anderson Rover another blow, this time directly across the temple. The gentleman wavered for an instant, gave a deep groan, and fell like a log to the floor. CHAPTER IV A USELESS PURSUIT Half an hour later Tom awoke with a start. For the moment he could not tell what had aroused him. Then he remembered hearing the slam of a door or a window sash. "Must have been the storm," he told himself, and was about to turn over and go to sleep when he heard a gun-shot from the direction of the barn. "Something is wrong, that's certain!" he cried. "Sam, wake up!" "What's the row, Tom?" questioned the youngest brother sleepily. Before Tom could reply they heard Dick getting up, and also their Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha. "What did that shot mean?" demanded Randolph Rover, coming toward the boys' rooms. "Did any of you fire it?" "No, it came from outside," returned Torn. "Hark!" "Hullo, in the house!" came in the voice of Jack Ness. "Wake up, everybody! Something is wrong!" After this it did not take long for those upstairs to slip into some clothing, and go below. Randolph Rover ran to the side door, to find it wide open. Dick lit the hall lamp. "Saw a man running across the garden," said Jack Ness, who had his shot-gun with him. "I yelled to him to stop, and then fired the gun. I think he came from the house." "How did you happen to be up?" asked Sam. "One of the horses is sick, and I was attending to him." By this time some of the others were looking into the various rooms. "The desk has been broken open!" cried Dick. "And the pantry in the corner, too!" "Mercy, save us!" shrieked Mrs. Rover, from the kitchen. "Come here at once. Poor Anderson has been killed!" "Killed!" gasped Tom; and then all ran to the kitchen as quickly as they could. They found Anderson Rover lying where he had fallen, and still unconscious. There was a lump on his forehead, and a thin stream of blood trickled down one side of his face. "Thank heaven, he is not dead!" murmured Dick, as he knelt beside his father. "But he has been struck some cruel blows. Somebody fetch water and a bandage." The water was procured, and also a bandage, and under skillful treatment, Anderson Rover was presently restored to consciousness. "Where--where is he?" he questioned, when he could speak. "Do you mean the person who struck you down?" asked Dick. "Ye--yes." "I don't know. Got away, I guess." "The villain! He attacked me most foully!" "I saw him running across the garden," put in the hired man. "Did he steal anything?" "To be sure he stole something," said Sam. "He ransacked the whole lower floor, by the looks of things." "Wonder who it was?" put in Tom. "It was Arnold Baxter," answered his father. "Arnold Baxter!" cried the others in chorus. "Are you certain?" asked Dick. "Yes. He struck me down, and then lit the bit of tallow candle you see lying there. Then we struggled, and he hit me again, and that is all I know. But I am sure it was Baxter, for I spoke to him. He accused us of having robbed him of that mine out West." "Was he alone?" asked Randolph Rover. "I saw no one else." "We ought to follow him up," declared Tom, now that he realized his father was not so badly hurt as at first feared. "That's the talk!" ejaculated Dick. "Wait till I get my pistol." "Boys, do keep out of harm," pleaded Mrs. Rover. "Remember that this Arnold Baxter is a desperate criminal." "We are not afraid of him," answered Tom. "We'll show him that he can't come here and attack father," added Sam. Leaving their father in the care of their Aunt Martha, the three Rover boys armed themselves and sallied forth, accompanied by their uncle and Alexander Pop, the latter carrying a horse-pistol of the old-fashioned variety. "Dat dar Baxter am a rascal of de fust water," was Aleck's comment. "He deserbes to be shot full ob holes, an' I am de boy to do dat same, if only I gets de chance." Jack Ness was closely questioned, and he described the spot where he had last seen the unwelcome midnight visitor. "He had a bag of something over his shoulder," he declared. "Most likely the stuff taken from the house," declared Dick. The party crossed the garden patch and then took to the path which ran down toward the river. Here all was intensely dark, although it had stopped raining, and the wind was trying its best to scatter the heavy clouds that obscured the stars. "Not a thing to see," observed Randolph Rover. "We may as well go back." "Let us scatter and make a search," came from Dick, and his idea was carried out. But though they tramped the locality for a good half hour the pursuit of Arnold Baxter proved useless. "He is probably making good use of his time," was Tom's comment. "He knew we would be after him hot-footed, just as soon as we heard of his being here." "I'm going to drive over to the railroad station," said Dick. "He may hang around and get aboard of the first morning train." "Take me along with you," said Sam, and Dick agreed. They got Aleck to drive them and took the fastest team the stable afforded. But at the depot all was dark and deserted, and if Arnold Baxter was anywhere near he took good care not to show himself, nor was anything seen of him in Oak Run later on. "He has left the neighborhood by some other way," said Randolph Rover, and his surmise was correct. When the boys reached home again they found their parent sitting up in an easy-chair, with his forehead still bandaged. The blows he had received were painful, but by no means serious, and when the doctor was called in he said the patient would speedily recover. "But you had a narrow escape," said the doctor. "Had you been struck a little harder your skull might have been broken." "Well, I don't think Arnold Baxter would have cared if he had broken my skull," answered Anderson Rover. "He is a thoroughly bad man." It was broad daylight before a complete examination of the house was made, and then it was learned that Baxter had run away with some silver knives, forks, and spoons, some gold napkin rings, a silver and gold water pitcher, and half a dozen similar articles. From the desk he had taken a pocketbook containing three hundred dollars in cash, and from Anderson Rover's person his watch and chain, and a diamond stud. He had also tried to rob the unconscious man of his diamond ring, but as the ring would not come off had pried out the stone and taken that. "He is at his old tricks again," said Dick. "Evidently his term in prison has done him no good." "Guess it has made him worse," added Sam. "Oh, how I would like to lay my hands on him!" And Tom said the same. The authorities were notified, including the sheriff of the county, and later still Anderson Rover hired a New York detective to take up the case. But it was of no avail. Arnold Baxter did not show himself, and not a trace of him was to be found anywhere. "I shouldn't be surprised if he disguised himself as soon as he got away from here," remarked Tom. "He could easily put on a false mustache, and a wig would fit capitally over that almost bald pate of his." "But where would he get the mustache and wig, Tom?" asked Dick. "He may have bought them before he came here. I have heard that some robbers prepare themselves for all sorts of emergencies. Only last week I was reading about a fellow who went to a ball, and between the dances went out and robbed a gentleman on the street of his watch. When he was arrested, he tried to prove that he hadn't been outside of the ballroom all night, and it was by the merest accident that the authorities found out his story wasn't true." "Tom is right; some criminals are very shrewd," said his father. "And I fancy Arnold Baxter is about as slick as any of them." "Well, I hope we run across him some day," said Dick. With so much to occupy their minds the days flew by swiftly, and almost before they knew it Monday was at hand, and the three boys set out to return once more to Putnam Hall. CHAPTER V ON THE WAY TO PUTNAM HALL The idea of going back to dear old Putnam Hall, with all of its pleasant memories, filled Tom with good humor, and he was fairly bubbling over on the train which carried the boys to Ithaca, where they were to take a steamer up Cayuga Lake to Cedarville, the nearest village to the academy. "Makes me feel as I did the first time we went to the Hall," he declared. "Don't you remember that trip, and the fun we had with Peleg Snuggers, the wagon man?" and then he burst out singing: "Putnam Hall's the place for me! Tra-la-lee! Tra-la-lee! Putnam Hall's the place for me! The best old school I know!" "You'll have the conductor putting you off, the next thing you know," remarked Sam. "Putting me off? Never!" cried Tom. "He knows that academy boys own privileges that other passengers do not possess. He can't cork me up. I defy him!" "Wonder if we'll meet any of the other fellows," mused Dick. He had hardly spoken when the train stopped at a junction, and two other lads got aboard and came down the aisle. One was tall and handsome, and the other stout and with a round, chubby face beaming with good humor. "Larry Colby!" cried Dick, leaping up and grasping the tall boy's hand. "I'm awfully glad to meet you. Returning to the Hall, of course?" "Yes," was the answer from the Rover boys' old chum. "Isn't it odd that I should be thinking of you just as we meet?" and he shook hands. "Hullo, if it ton't peen dem Rofer brudders alretty," cried the round-faced lad, with a twinkle in his eyes. "I dink me you vos left der Hall for goot, yah!" "Hans Mueller!" came from Sam. "Then you are going back, too? I thought you had scarlet fever?" "Not much I ain't," said the German youth. "I vos eat too much of dem puckveat cakes alretty, und dot makes mine face preak owid, put I ain't got no scarlet fefers, nein! How you vos alretty annahow?" And he shook hands as Larry had done. "I can hardly believe your story about being cast away on an island in the Pacific," said Larry. "Your letter read like a fairy tale. If you tell the fellows they'll think you are drawing the long bow." "Yes, Larry vos told me somedings apoud dot," broke in Hans. "You vos regular Robinson Roosters," he said. "Great Scott! Robinson Roosters!" yelled Tom, bursting out into a fit of laughter. "Boys, we are discovered at last." "Well, if you are, you needn't crow over it," came from Larry. "Roosters and crowing! Oh, Larry, I didn't think you'd begin to pun so early," put in Sam. "He just hatched it out," said Tom. "I suppose you think that sounds chic," joined in Dick. And then there was a laugh in which all but Hans Mueller joined. The German youth looked blankly from one to another of his companions. "Vos dot Robinson Rooster a choke?" he demanded. "Of it vos let me in by it kvick." "Oh, you couldn't climb in on a gangway and a step-ladder combined," answered Tom. "Put vos you Robinson Roosters or vos you not Robinson Roosters?" "Oh, we were Robinson Roosters right enough," answered Tom, when he could control his laughter. "Den vot you vos giggling apout, hey?" "Nothing, only it was so funny to be a Robinson Rooster and live on a big island with nobody but lions, buffaloes, snakes, and 'cannonballs,'" added the fun-loving youth. "Cannonballs?" queried Larry "That's what Aleck Pop calls 'em, Larry. He said it was a wonder the 'cannonballs' hadn't eaten us up," and then came another laugh, during which Hans was as mute as ever. "Vos dere lions, snakes, and buffaloes py dot island on?" went on the German youth. "To be sure there were, Hans. And likewise elephants, panthers, cats, dogs, hippopotamuses, mice, elk, rats, and winged jibberjackers." "Mine gracious, Tom! Und you vosn't eaten up alretty kvick!" "None of the animals troubled us, but the three-horned jibberjacker. He came into our house one night, crawled upstairs, and began to swallow Sam alive." "You ton't tole me!" "Yes, I do tell you. He had Sam in his mouth, and had swallowed him as far as his waist, when Sam began to kick on the floor with his feet." "I see, I see--" Hans' eyes were as big as saucers. "That woke Dick and me up, and we ran and got Sam by the legs, and pulled for all we were worth." "You ton't tole me, Tom! Und vot did dot vot-you-call-him do den?" "He planked his ten feet on the floor, and--" "His ten feet did you said, Tom?" interrupted Hans doubtfully. "To be sure. Didn't you know that a real jibberjacker has ten feet?" "Maype I did--I ton't oxactly remember about him." "I am surprised at your ignorance of natural history, Hans. Yes, the real jibberjacker has ten feet, although a branch of the family, known as the jibbertwister, has only eight feet." "Well, go on. He planked his ten feets by der floor town--" "He held on and so did we, and it was a regular tug of war between us. Sam was swallowed as far as the waist, and couldn't do anything to help himself. You just ask Sam if that isn't so." "When Tom tells the truth it's a fact every time, Hans," answered Sam, who felt as if he would choke from suppressed laughter. "So the blamed old jibberjacker held on and held on," continued Tom. "Then we gave a tug and he gave a tug, and all of a sudden Sam came out. The shock was so great it threw Dick and me clear across the room, and through a doorway into the next room. But the poor jibberjacker fared still worse." "How vos dot?" "He flew up against the outside wall, and his weight was so great he went right through the side of the building, and landed on some rocks below. All of his ten legs were broken, and of course he couldn't get away, so we went down, got a long cross-cut saw, and sawed off his head. Now, if you don't believe that story, you come to our house sometime and I'll show you the cross-cut saw." Hans stared in breathless amazement. His solemn face was too much for the others, and a peal of laughter rang through the car. At this Hans grew suspicious, and at length a sickly grin overspread his features. "I know you, Tom Rofer," he said. "Dot vos von of dem fish stories, ain't it alretty?" "No, it's a jibberjacker story, Hans." "It vos a jibjacker fish story den annahow. You can't fool me some more. I vos too schmart for dot alretty. Ven I go py der academy I git mine ear teeths cut, hey?" "All right, Hans, if you have cut your ear-teeth we'll call it off," said Dick, and here the conversation took a more rational turn. "So far as I know only a few of the fellows have left the Hall on account of the scarlet fever scare," said Larry. "And they were boys that nobody seemed to care much about." "I was told that the fellows expected to elect an entirely new lot of officers," said Sam. "We have been away so much I've rather lost track of our military affairs." "Captain Putnam said we would have to ballot for officers as soon as all the boys were back," said Larry. "Some of the old officers have graduated, you must remember." "I've not forgotten that I was once second lieutenant of Company A," put in Dick. "Reckon I'll have to try my luck once more--if the boys want me to run." "Well, I want you to run for one, Dick," said Larry. "Hans, you'll vote for Dick, won't you?" "Yah, und I vonts him to vote for me, too," said the German youth. "Why, Hans, do you want to be water-carrier this year?" asked Sam. "_Nein_, I vonts to be high brivate py der rear rank alretty. Von of der fellows tole me dot would chust suit me." "All right, Hans, we'll all elect you high private of the rear rank," answered Larry with a laugh. CHAPTER VI FUN ON THE BOAT At the city of Ithaca the boys stopped long enough to get dinner, and were here joined by Fred Garrison and George Granbury, two more of their old school chums. "Hurrah for the gathering of the clans!" cried George Granbury, with a beaming face. "This is like a touch of old times. How are all of you, anyway?" "First rate, with the exception of Hans here," said Tom. "He's got the buckwheat measles." "Yah, und Tom he's got der jipperjocker fefer," declared the German boy, bound to do his best to get square. "Good for Hans!" cried Sam. "Tom, after this, you have got to take care, or Hansie will roast you." "Oh, Hans is just all right," observed Tom, and when the German boy's face was turned away he took the latter's coffee and put into it about a teaspoonful of salt. "Tell you what, fellows, this coffee just touches the spot," he added loudly. "Right you are," said Fred Garrison. "Never tasted better in my life." So far Hans had not touched the coffee, but hearing the words he took up his cup and downed a deep draught. It may be added that he was a German who loved coffee a good deal, and frequently drank several cups at a meal. For an instant the German youth said nothing. Then his face turned pale. "Dat coffee was no goot!" he gasped. "Why, Hans," cried several. "See how pale he is getting," came from George Granbury. "Hans, are you going to die? "Don't say the coffee is going to poison him," burst out Tom. "I was reading about poison getting into the coffee at this hotel last week. But, of course--" "Did da got poison py der coffee in here?" demanded Hans. "To be sure, put--" "How vos dot poisoned coffee taste annahow?" "I'm sure I don't know." "I think it was a little salty," came from Fred Garrison. "Mine cracious me! Of dot's so I vos poisoned, sure. Run for der toctor kvick!" "Here, eat some jam, Hans. That will counteract the effect of the poison," said Tom, and handed over a small dish with jam in it, over which he had just sprinkled the pepper with an exceedingly liberal hand. Anxious to do anything that would stop him from being poisoned, the German boy clutched the dish and took a large spoonful of the jam. But as he gulped it, he gave a gasp, and the tears started down his cheeks. "_Du meine zeit!_" he bawled. "I vos purnt up alife by mine mouth alretty! Dake it avay kvick!" And jumping up from the table he began to dance around madly. "It's a serious case," said Tom. "If he's burning up we had better call out the fire department." This remark made Hans grow suddenly suspicious. He caught up Tom's cup of coffee and tasted it. "I know you, Tom Rofer," he said. "Dot vos more dricks of yours, ain't it?" He held the cup of coffee on high. "How you like dot, hey!" And splash! down came the coffee on Tom's head, and trickled down his back. "Hi, you! let up!" roared Tom, and knocked the half-empty cup to one side. "Let up, I say, or I'll have the landlord put you out." "I told you to take care, Tom," came from Sam, when the other boys had restored quietness. "When Hans gets his dander up he is dangerous." "Dot is drue," came from Hans. "I vonts no more of them chokes alretty." And then, as the waiter came hurrying up, he forced Tom to order him another cup of coffee, and took good care to keep it out of the fun-loving youth's reach. Poor Tom sopped away the spilt coffee as best he could, but it must be admitted that for the balance of that day his backbone felt none too comfortable. Yet he bore no grudge towards Hans, for he knew that he had deserved the punishment meted out to him. Down at the dock the boys found the _Golden Star_, a trim little side-wheeler, ready to take them up the lake. There were about half a hundred passengers, bound for various landings, and among them six Putnam Hall scholars, including our old-time acquaintances, Jack Powell, generally called Songbird Powell, because of his habit of composing poems and songs, and that aristocratic young gentleman who rejoiced in the name of William Philander Tubbs. "The family is surely getting together," remarked Dick, after another handshaking had been indulged in. "Songbird, do you warble as much as ever?" "You can wager a sweet potato he does," said George Granbury. "Nothing short of a cyclone will ever stop Songbird's warbling, eh, Songbird?" For reply the youth addressed turned a pair of dreamy eyes on the speaker, and then said slowly: "With hopeful hearts And brightest faces, To school we go To fill our places. We'll study hard, And do our best--" "If Songbird Powell Will give us a rest!" finished Tom. "Oh, Songbird, have mercy on us, and don't begin so early." "You're a good one to preach, Tom," came from Larry. "Started to joke the moment we met him, didn't he, Hans?" "Did I?" questioned Tom innocently. "I had forgotten." He turned to Tubbs. "And how is our friend Philliam Willander to-day?" "William Philander, if you please, Rover," was the dignified reply. "I must insist on your getting my name correctly this term." "All right, Tubby, old boy, it shall be just as you say. I wouldn't hurt your feelings for a big red apple." "Then, please don't call me Tubby. You know my real name is William Philander Tubbs." "Don't you want Esquire tacked to it, too?" "That is hardly necessary as yet. But you may write it after my name, if you have occasion to send me any written communication," continued Tubbs, with greater dignity than ever. "Phew! but Tubby is worse than he was before," whispered Sam to Dick. "They must have been tuning him up at home." "Tubbs is going to try for a captaincy this term," said Powell, who had not minded Tom's interruption of his versification in the least. "Hurrah for Captain Tubbs!" cried Tom. "Captain, allow me to salute you," and he made a sweeping bow to the deck. Tom spoke so earnestly that Tubbs was pleased, and instantly forgot their little differences. "I shall be pleased to become a captain," said the young gentleman. "I feel I can fill the position with credit to myself and dignity to the academy. There is military blood in my veins, for a second cousin on my mother's side was a lieutenant in the Civil War. Besides that, I have studied military movements at West Point, where I went to see the cadets drill." "Do you know how to swab out a cannon?" asked Sam, with a wink at the others. "I shouldn't--ah--care for such dirty work," replied William Philander Tubbs with dignity. "Or police a camp?" "Surely you don't think I was ever a policeman?" "Don't you remember what policing a camp is?" asked George Granbury. "Upon my honor, I do not." "It means to clean up the streets, burn up the rubbish, and all that." "Thank you, but I do not--ah--care to become a street cleaner," returned Tubbs, with great dignity. "Sorry, but I'm afraid you are not cut out for a corporalship," came from Tom. "I didn't say a corporalship, Tom, I said--" "Excuse me, I meant a sergeantship." "No, I said--" "Make it a second lieutenantship, then, Tubby. Anything to be friends, you know." "I said--" "Oh, bother, if you want to be a major-general, go ahead. Nobody will stop you." "Hurrah, Major-General Tubbs!" cried Sam. "That sounds well, doesn't it, fellows?" "We'll have to present him with a tin-plated sword," came from one of the crowd. "And a pair of yellow worsted epaulets," added another. And then Songbird Powell began to sing softly: "Rub a dub, dub! Here comes General Tubb! He'll make you bow to the ground! You must stop ev'ry lark, And toe the chalk mark, As soon as he comes around." "There you are, Tubby; think of Songbird composing a poem in your honor," cried Tom. "You ought to present him with a leather medal." "I--I don't like such--er--such doggerel," cried William Philander Tubbs angrily. "I think--" "Well, I never!" ejaculated Tom, in pretended astonishment. "And Songbird worked so hard over it, too! Thus doth genius receive its reward. Songbird, if I were you, I'd give up writing poems, and go turn railroad president, track-walker, or something like that." "You boys are simply horrid, don't you know!" cried Tubbs, and, pushing his way through the crowd, he walked to the other end of the boat. "Being away from school hasn't done Tubby any good," was Fred Garrison's remark. "He thinks he's the High Tum-Tum, and no mistake." "Don't fret, he'll be taken down before the term is over," came from Larry Colby. "That's true," added another pupil, who had been taken down himself two terms before. "And when he hits his level he'll be just as good as any of us." The time on the steamer passed quickly enough, and after several stops along the lake, the Golden Star turned in at the Cedarville landing, and all of the Putnam Hall cadets went ashore. CHAPTER VII SOMETHING ABOUT THE MILITARY ACADEMY As my old readers know, Cedarville was only a small country village, so the arrival and departure of the steamer was a matter of importance to the inhabitants. The boys, consequently, found the little dock crowded with sightseers and more than one face looked familiar to them. "There are the Rover boys," said one man, quite loudly. "Everybody knows 'em." "We are growing notorious, it would seem," whispered Dick to Sam. Back of the dock stood the big carryall attached to Putnam Hall, with the old Hall driver, Peleg Snuggers, on the box. "Hullo, Peleg, old friend!" shouted Tom, waving his hand at the man. "How are we to-morrow, as the clown in the circus puts it?" "I'm all right, Master Tom--an' will be so long as you let me alone," was the deliberate answer from the driver. "He remembers you all right enough, Tom," came from George Granbury. "Now, Peleg, don't throw cold water on my enthusiasm," said Tom reproachfully. "I ain't throwin' water on nobody, Master Tom; I'm only giving fair warning that I want to be let alone," answered the driver doggedly. "No more monkey shines around me, remember that." "All right, Peleg, I'll remember. And how is Mrs. Green, our worthy housekeeper?" "First-rate." "No whooping-cough?" "No." "Nor measles, or chicken-pox?" "Not a bit of 'em." "Or mumps? Tell me, now, she really hasn't got the mumps, has she?" "See here, Master Tom, didn't I jest tell you--" "No, you didn't tell me, and that's why I'm so anxious to know. If she's got the mumps, and the chilblains, and the ingrowing warts--" "Oh, crickey! I knew it!" groaned Peleg Snuggers. "I says to myself as I was a-drivin' over, 'if thet Tom Rover comes back, I might as well throw up my job, for he won't give nobody a rest!' If you would only--" "All right, Peleg, I see you are really and truly bound to go back on me. You hate me!" Tom drew his handkerchief from his pocket. "It is awful, after all I have tried to do for you in the past. I've got to-- to--cry! Boo--hoo!" And the boy began to wipe his eyes. "Look a-here, Master Tom, it ain't nothin' to cry about," said Peleg half suspiciously. "I only give you warnin'--" "You are so--so hard-hearted, Peleg. Boohoo! I want to go back home!" And Tom began to sob. This was too much for the driver, and his face fell. "Don't you mind me, Master Tom," he said softly. "I didn't mean nothin', indeed, I didn't. You're all right. I like you better'n any of 'em." "Oh, dear!" burst out Larry Colby. "Just to hear that!" "Peleg, have you gone back on us?" demanded George Granbury. "He ought to have a ducking for that," put in another. "Let's dump him into the lake!" "Come on, a cold bath will do him good!" "No! no! Oh, crickey!" groaned the driver of the carryall. "This is a mess! I--I didn't mean nuthin', gents, indeed, I didn't--" "He's mean enough for anything, that's what he means," came from a voice in the rear. "Pile in, before he runs away, and leaves us to walk to the Hall!" And into the carryall the boys tumbled, one over another. Dick got a seat beside the driver, and away they went at a spanking gait, through Cedarville, and then along the winding road leading to the academy. Two or three of the cadets had brought tin horns with them, and they made the welkin ring as the turnout dashed on its way. "A ginger-snap prize to the first fellow who spots the academy," cried Sam, as they made the last turn in the highway. "I see the Hall!" shouted half a dozen voices in chorus. And in a few seconds they came out into full view of the broad brick and stone building, with its well-kept parade ground, and its trees and shrubbery. The parade ground came down to the edge of the wagon road, and off to the other side the land sloped gradually down to the lake, glistening like a sheet of gold in the rays of the setting sun. The boys set up a loud shout and a wild blowing of horns, and in a moment a score of cadets came running forward to greet them, followed by Captain Victor Putnam, the master of the academy, and George Strong, his head assistant. "I am glad to see you, young gentlemen," said Captain Putnam, as he shook one and another by the hand. "You look as if your vacation had done you good." "It's done me a pile of good," said Sam. "But I don't know as I want another like it." "You Rover boys have certainly had some remarkable experiences," continued the captain. "I congratulate you on escaping so many grave perils. Sometime you must give me all the particulars. But now it is time to prepare for supper. I dare say the trip on the lake has made you hungry." "Dot is so," came from Hans Mueller. "I vos so hungry like four lions alretty." "I have made some slight changes in your sleeping accommodations," went on Captain Putnam. "Mr. Strong will show you to your rooms." Then the boys marched into the academy, led by the head assistant. The majority of the cadets had their dormitories on the second floor of the building. Each room held from four to eight students, and was both bright and clean. The rules of Putnam Hall were similar to those in force at West Point, and every pupil was expected to keep his clothing, his books, and his other possessions in perfect order. Each had a cot, a chair, and a clothes closet to himself, extra closets having been introduced in the rooms for that purpose, and each was allowed the use of his trunk in addition. Each cadet had to take his turn at keeping the room in order, although the dormitories were given a regular sweeping and cleaning once a week by the servants. As before, the Rover boys were placed in one room, and into this came also Larry Colby, Fred Garrison, and George Granbury. The apartment was at an angle of the building, and next to it was another occupied by Songbird Powell, Tubbs, Hans, and three other cadets. Between the two rooms was a door, but this was closed, and was supposed to be kept locked. "This makes one feel like home," said Sam, as he began to wash up for supper. "Right you are," answered Larry Colby. "No matter where I go during a vacation, I am always glad to get back to Putnam Hall." A little later came the evening parade of the cadets, who marched around the parade ground several times before entering the messroom, as the dining hall was termed. The late arrivals did not join in the parade, but they watched it with interest, and then hurried to their accustomed places at the long tables, where a plain, but substantial supper awaited them. Only a little talking was allowed throughout the meal, but at its conclusion the cadets were given an hour off, in which time they could do very much as they pleased. In that hour some played games, others took walks, and not a few drifted over to the gymnasium, which stood at one corner of the grounds. "I'm going over to the gym," said Dick to Larry Colby. "Want to go along?" "Certainly," was the prompt answer. "I am going in for gymnastics this term, Dick." "Want to win some of the prizes when we have our contests?" "If I can." "I don't see why you shouldn't, Larry. You seem to be in first-class shape physically." "I am going to try hard, Dick." They were soon in the building, and Larry slipped off to the dressing room to don his gymnasium suit. While Dick was waiting for his friend to reappear he looked on at the efforts of the other cadets present. Some were on the rings and bars, others were using the parallel bars and horses, and still others were at the pulling and lifting machines. In one corner two of the boys were boxing, while another was hammering a punching bag as hard as he could. The boy at the punching bag was a tall, big-boned youth, named Lew Flapp. He was a newcomer at Putnam Hall, but though he had been there but three weeks he acted as if half of the place already belonged to him. At the start, he had made a few friends, principally on account of the money he had to spend, but these were gradually deserting him. Dick was interested in the work on the punching bag, and he walked closer to note what Lew Flapp was doing. Clap! clap! clap! went Flapp's fists on the bag, which bounced back and forth with great rapidity. "Well, how do you like that?" asked Lew Flapp, as he paused in his exercise and stared at Dick. "It's all right," answered Dick briefly. "I'll bet there ain't another cadet here can do as well," went on Lew Flapp boastfully. "Oh, that's saying a good deal," said Dick. "Some of the boys can hit the bag pretty well." "Humph!" Lew Flapp stared at the eldest Rover harder than ever. "Perhaps you think you can do it," he sneered. "I didn't say that." "But your words implied it." "Dick Rover can do every bit as well," said a cadet who overheard the talk. "I want to see him do it." "I didn't come here to punch the bag," said Dick as calmly as ever. "I just thought I'd take a look around." "Humph! Afraid to try, eh?" "Oh, no." "I dare you to show what you can do," sneered Lew Flapp. "Very well, I'll show you," came from Dick, and he began to take off his coat, collar, and tie. CHAPTER VIII A SCENE IN THE GYMNASIUM Lew Flapp spoke in such a loud, overbearing voice that a crowd began to collect in the corner where the punching apparatus was located. "What's up?" asked more than one cadet. "Lew Flapp and Dick Rover are going to try to beat each other at punching the bag," was the report. "Rover will have to do his best then. Flapp is a prime one at bag punching. It's about the only thing he can do real well." "This isn't a fair contest," put in another student. "Flapp took lessons from a man who used to do bag-punching on the vaudeville stage." "If that's so I wouldn't try to beat him, if I was Dick Rover." Dick heard some of this talk but said nothing. He was soon ready for the trial, and stepping up to the punching bag he began to undo the top strap. "That bag is all right," blustered Lew Flapp. "Yes--for you," answered Dick. "But you must remember, I am not quite so tall. I must have it an inch lower." "It seems to me you are mighty particular." "I have a right to be. When you do your punching you can raise the bag as high as you please." "That's the talk," came from several standing near. By this time Larry was on the floor again, and he came up to learn what Dick was doing. "Dick, they tell me he is the best bag-puncher here," whispered Larry. "I can't help it." "He will crow over you if you don't do as well as he can do." "Let him." Dick began his punching exercise slowly, for he had not tried it for some time, and was afraid he was a little stiff. But, it may be added here, there was a punching bag in the barn at the Rovers' farm, so the youth knew exactly what he was doing. "Oh, anybody can do that," remarked Lew Flapp presently. "That's as simple as A. B. C." "Well, can you do this?" returned Dick, and branched off into something a trifle more difficult. "To be sure I can." "Then what about this?" and now Dick settled down to some real work. Clap! clap! went the bag, this way and that. "Yes, I can do that, too," answered the tall boy. "I'd like to see you." Lew Flapp was only too anxious to show his skill, and having adjusted the bag to suit him, he went at the work once again, doing just what Dick had done. "Now do this!" he cried, and gave a performance of his most difficult exercise. It was certainly well executed and at the conclusion many of the cadets began to applaud. "Dick Rover will have to hump himself to do that," remarked one. "I don't believe he can touch it," said another. With care Dick fixed the bag and went at the exercise. It was something he had not practiced for a considerable time, yet he did not miss a stroke, and he wound up with a speed fully equal to that exhibited by his opponent. "Good for you, Dick!" cried Larry heartily. "They'll have to call it a tie," suggested another cadet. "I'm not done yet," said Dick. "Can you do this?" he asked of Lew Flapp, and then commenced an exercise he had learned some time before, from a boxing instructor. It was full of intricate movements, all executed so rapidly that the eye could scarcely follow them. The cadets looked on in wonder, Lew Flapp staring angrily at the performance. "Wonderful!" "I didn't know Dick Rover could do such punching!" "Say, Flapp, you'll have to get up early in the morning to beat that." "Oh, you shut your mouth!" retorted Lew Flapp angrily. "I can do ten times better, if I want to." "Let us see you." "I--I--I'm in no condition to go ahead just now. Remember, I was punching the bag for an hour before Rover got here." "How can that be, when all of us just came from the mess hall?" questioned Larry. "He's trying to sneak out of the trial," said a voice in the rear of the crowd. "I'll sneak you!" roared Lew Flap, in a rage. "I want you all to know that I ain't afraid of Dick Rover, or anybody else." "Do you want the trial to continue?" questioned Dick, in an even tone. "Didn't I just say I was tired out? But I'll show you what I can do some time," blustered Lew Flapp. "Oh; all right." "You needn't think you're king-pin of the punching bag," went on the tall boy, who had lost control of his temper because of the exhibition. "Thank you, Flapp, what I think and what I don't think isn't any of your business." "Pooh! I've heard about you and your two brothers, Dick Rover. They tell all sorts of stories about you, but I don't believe the half of them." "Come, come, what's the use of quarreling," put in Larry pleasantly. "I'm sure I don't want to quarrel," answered Dick. "He challenged me to punch the bag against him, and I did so, that's all." "You're dead stuck on yourself, Rover," went on Lew Flapp slangily. "You think you're the only toad in the puddle. But you ain't, let me tell you that. As soon as I heard about you, I made up my mind I wouldn't knuckle under to you." "This isn't right!" cried Larry. "Dick is my friend, and let me say he never asks any cadet to knuckle under to him, unless the cadet did something that wasn't on the level." "That's true! That's true!" came from half a dozen of the students. "Dick Rover is all right!" "So you're all turning against me, eh?" burst out Lew Flapp fiercely, his face growing dark with rage. "I was warned of this before I came here." "Who warned you?" asked Tom, who had just put in an appearance. "A gentleman who used to teach here." "What was his name?" questioned several. "Mr. Jasper Grinder. He said he had left because the Rover boys tried to run everything." "That old fraud!" cried Larry. "He left because he was kicked out," came from another. "And he is a criminal," put in Dick. "I can prove it, if he wants me to do it." "Oh, you can talk all you please," growled Lew Flapp. "I know what I know, and don't you forget it. And what is more, Dick Rover, don't you expect me to knuckle under to you. If you try that game, you'll get what you least expect," and so speaking Lew Flapp forced his way out of the crowd and left the gymnasium. "Well, of all the idiots I ever met!" came from Tom. "He believes in meeting trouble three-quarters of the way, doesn't he?" "I think Jasper Grinder must have stuffed him full of stories about us," said Dick. "That's the way that rascally teacher expects to get square on Captain Putnam--by ruining the reputation of the school." "Oh, it's mostly Lew Flapp's fault," put in a pupil who had been at the Hall for some time. "The very first day Flapp arrived he had a row with little Tommy Browne, and knocked Tommy down, and a few days after that he had a fight with Jack Raymond, and was pounding Jack good when Mr. Strong came up and made them run off in different directions. He's a good deal of the same kind of a bully that Dan Baxter was." "If that's the case, he had better keep his distance," said Dick determinedly. "I don't want any quarrels, but I despise a bully thoroughly." "So do I." "I wonder if this Flipflap ever heard of Dan Baxter," put in Tom. "If he has he ought to profit by the example." "Hullo, Tom's got a new name for Flapp," said one of the boys. "Isn't his name Flipflap?" questioned Tom innocently. "Or is it Flapjack?" "It will be Flopdown, if he ever gets into a fight with Dick," said Larry, and then followed a general laugh. "I really don't want any more fights," said Dick, when he could be heard. "I came back to Putnam Hall to dig in and learn something. I've had enough adventures to last a lifetime. If the others will only leave me alone I'll leave them alone." "But if they won't leave you alone, Dick?" asked George Granbury. "Then they had better look out for themselves, that's all," was the reply of the eldest Rover. CHAPTER IX SETTLING DOWN TO STUDY Dick meant what he said concerning coming back to Putnam Hall for the sake of learning something. He felt that he had lost too much time from school already to lose more, and he pitched in with a vigor that was indeed surprising. "I don't see how you can do it," said Tom one day. "I can't, to save my life." Yet Tom was by no means a poor scholar, and if he did not stand at the head of his class he was not far from it. Sam was also doing his best, and all of this gratified Captain Putnam exceedingly. "It shows they can work as well as play," was what the captain told himself, and he wrote Anderson Rover a long letter, in which he praised the boys for their efforts. The boys fell into their places at the academy with a naturalness that was surprising when one considered the adventures that had but lately befallen them. Over and over again did they have to tell of their doings while on the Pacific, and as Crusoes, and some of the cadets never tired of listening to the stories. A few, including Lew Flapp, did not believe them true, but the majority did, and that was enough for the Rovers. Dick was now advancing in years, and he knew that before long he would either have to go into business or to college, which he had not yet fully decided. To tell the truth, the thought of separating from his brothers was exceedingly distasteful to him. "If I went to college I'd like you fellows to be with me," he said one day to Tom and Sam. "There would be no fun in going alone." "That's true," answered Tom. "But if you wanted us to go together you'd have to wait for Sam and me to catch up to you." "Well, I might spend a year or so in traveling while I waited, or Sam and you might hurry up a little," answered the eldest Rover. During those days but little out of the ordinary happened. Dick took especial care to avoid Lew Flapp, and the tall youth did not attempt to bother him. It was soon learned that Flapp was more of a braggart than anything else, and then even some of the smaller boys grew less afraid of him. As already told, it had been decided by Captain Putnam to have the cadets elect a new set of officers for the term, and these officers were to be chosen in a somewhat different manner than heretofore. "In the past," said the captain, when addressing the students on the subject, "you have been permitted to elect whoever you pleased to any office, from major down. This has occasionally resulted in someone being chosen who, while he might be a good scholar and a good fellow generally, was not exactly fitted to a military position. On that account I have made a change. Next Wednesday and Thursday I shall hold a general examination in military matters only, and the twenty pupils standing highest shall be the ones eligible for the positions of major, captain, and first and second lieutenants. On these twenty names you shall vote as heretofore. As we now have three companies here we shall want a major, three captains, and six lieutenants, making a total of ten officers. After that each company shall choose its own corporals and sergeants. The company marching best on parade the following Saturday shall have the honor of carrying the flag until after the annual encampment, which this year will begin a month from to-day." At the mention of the annual encampment the cadets set up a cheer. The outing was looked forward to with great interest. "Where are we going this year?" asked George Granbury. "It's a secret, I believe," answered Larry Colby. "But I am pretty certain that we are going further away than usual." "I hope we go into the mountains." "Or along some other lake, where the fishing is fine," put in Tom. "Yes, that would suit me, too." The announcement concerning the examination in military matters also caused much talk, and many of the cadets began at once to study military tactics harder than ever, while drills became a pleasure instead of a hardship. "I'm going to win some kind of a place," said Larry earnestly. "Even a lieutenantship would be better than nothing." "I am sure I am going to win," put in William Philander Tubbs. "I am perfect in every kind of a drill." "Good for Buttertub, the perfect man!" sang out Tom. "Billy, you ought to have your picture done in oil, to hang alongside of Washington's, in the library." "Don't you dare to call me Buttertub, or Billy either, you rude thing!" snorted Tubbs, and walked away in outraged dignity. "Dot examinations vos dickle me alretty," said Hans. "Vot I don't know apoud dem military tictacs you don't know, ain't it. I vill pe by der top of der class so kvick as neffer vos, you pet yourself!" And he nodded his head as if he meant every word of it. Dick Rover said but little on the subject, but he meant to win if he possibly could, and so did Tom. Sam felt he was as yet too young to become anything but a sergeant, so he did not enter the competition with much vigor. Lew Flapp was not a particularly bright pupil, but there was one thing, outside of bag punching, that he could do well, and that was to drill. He took to military tactics naturally, and knew nearly every rule that the book of instructions contained. "It's going to be an easy matter to get into the chosen twenty," the tall boy told himself. "But after that, will the cadets elect me to one of those positions?" He wanted to be major of the battalion, but doubted if he could muster up sufficient friends to elect him. The examination in military matters came off on the afternoon of the following Wednesday and on Thursday morning. Captain Putnam was very thorough in the work, and made the pupils do certain things over and over again, and write the answers to long lists of questions. "It has given me great pleasure to conduct this examination," he said, on the day following. "It shows that the average in military knowledge is much higher than it was last term. The following are the pupils who have passed, given in the order of merit." And then he read the list of names. Lew Flapp came first, Dick Rover next, Larry Colby third, George Granbury fourth, and the others, including Tom and Fred Garrison, followed. Neither William Philander Tubbs nor Hans Mueller were mentioned. "I dink me dere vos a mistake py dot," said the German boy. "Or else I vos know so much der captain didn't vont nobody to know apout it," and this raised a laugh. "It's an outrage!" declared Tubbs. "An outrage! I shall request my parents to withdraw me from the institution." And he wrote a letter home that very night. But his parents refused to grant his request. Probably they knew of his shortcomings, and thought a few terms at Putnam Hall would do him good. Lew Flapp was much pleased over the fact that he headed the list of those who had passed, and nobody could blame him for this. But he immediately made himself more obnoxious than ever by going around among the cadets and declaring that he was the only one to be elected to the office of major. "It's mine by right," he said. "It wouldn't be fair to elect anybody else." "But Dick Rover and Larry Colby stand almost as high," said one of the cadets. "Captain Putnam said your average was 96 per cent., while Rover's average was 95 per cent., and Larry Colby's was 94 per cent. A difference of one or two per cent. out of a possible hundred isn't much." "I don't care," retorted Lew Flapp, "I ought to be elected major, and that is all there is to it." When Dick was approached he had but little to say. "I didn't expect to stand so high," he declared. "I don't know that I care to be made major. If I get to be a captain or a first lieutenant I shall be well content. You know I was a second lieutenant once." "My percentage is more than I expected," said Larry. "I really didn't think I was so well up in military matters. Now, if the boys want me for an officer I'll take whatever they give me." "And that is what I say," added George Granbury. "Ditto, myself," put in Tom. "Even a second lieutenantship will not be declined by yours truly." After this there was a good deal of canvassing and "log rolling" as it is called. Lew Flapp spent much money in secret, treating boys when at the village and elsewhere. By this means he gathered quite a band of followers around him. "He is going to win, by hook or by crook," observed Songbird Powell. "He acts just like some of those politicians who don't care what they do so long as they win." "I am not going to spend a cent on the boys," declared Dick. "I don't believe in buying votes." There was a strict rule at Putnam Hall that no cadet should touch liquor of any kind excepting when ordered by the doctor. This rule had been broken in the past by Dan Baxter and a few others, but the majority of the cadets respected the rule and kept it. But Lew Flapp had always been allowed to drink when at home and now he frequently drank on the sly when down to Cedarville. On these excursions he was generally joined by a weak-minded boy named Hurdy, who was usually willing to do whatever Flapp desired done. One day, just before the election for officers was to come off, Lew Flapp called Ben Hurdy to him. "I am going down to Cedarville this evening," he said. "I want you to go along and invite Jackson and Pender and Rockley." "Going to have a good time?" asked Ben Hurdy. "Yes and you can tell the others so, and tell them if they know some others who want a good time, and can keep their mouths shut about it, to bring them along. But mind, Hurdy, we want no blabbers." "All right, Flapp, I'll get the right fellows," answered Ben Hurdy, and ran away to fulfill his questionable errand. CHAPTER X AN ADVENTURE IN CEDARVILLE On the same evening that Lew Flapp and his particular cronies went down to Cedarville to have a good time in a very questionable way, Dick Rover and Songbird Powell also visited the village, one to buy some handkerchiefs, and the other to invest in a book he had ordered from the local bookseller and newsdealer. "I heard that Lew Flapp was going to Cedarville," said Powell, while on the way. "Do you know, Dick, I don't like that fellow at all." "Neither do I, Songbird." "It will make me sick if he is elected major of the battalion." "Nevertheless, the cadets have a right to elect whom they please." "I know that as well as you do. But I can't stand Flapp's domineering ways. And he is bound to grow worse if he is put in authority." "As to that, I shall not stand being bullied," came from Dick, with flashing eyes. "I'll let him go just so far, and if he goes any further he'll have to beware." Both boys were excellent walkers and it was not long before Cedarville was reached. Dick soon had the handkerchiefs wanted, and then Powell led the way to the bookstore, to obtain a volume of humorous verses he had ordered the week previous. "I don't see why you buy verses, since you can make them up so readily," said Dick with a smile. "Oh, I like to see what the other fellows are doing," answered his friend. "I saw some more of your cadets in town to-night," said the bookseller, while wrapping up the book. "Yes, I believe half a dozen or more came down," returned Powell. "Having a special celebration to-night?" "Not that I am aware of." "Why do you ask?" put in Dick, who knew the bookseller well. "Oh, I only thought some of the boys were flying their kite pretty high, that's all," and the man closed one eye suggestively. "Where did you meet the fellows?" "Well--er--I'd rather not say, Rover. You see, I don't want to make trouble for anybody." "Are they in town yet?" "I presume they are. But don't say I mentioned it, please," pleaded the bookseller. No more was said, and having paid for the book Powell walked out, with Dick behind him. "If those fellows are drinking it's a jolly shame," declared Dick, when they were out of hearing. "What do you think about it, Songbird?" "Exactly as you do, Dick." "Shall we hunt them up?" "What good will it do? Lew Flapp won't listen to what you say, and I'm sure I don't want to play the spy and report him." "But what if he is leading some innocent students astray? He has had half a dozen young chaps dangling at his heels lately." "I know that." There was a pause. "We might look into some of the places as we pass them." Very slowly they walked up and down the main street of Cedarville, a thing easy to do, since the stores extended only a distance of two blocks. Then they passed to a side street, upon which two new places had recently been built. One of the new places was a butcher shop, and this was dark and deserted. Next to it was a new resort known as Mike Sherry's Palace, and this was well lit up and evidently in full blast. "If Flapp is drinking he is evidently in this place," remarked Dick. "But I don't see anything of him," he added, after peering through the swinging doors. "They tell me this Sherry has a room upstairs, also for drinking purposes," returned Powell. "Maybe Flapp and his friends are up there. They wouldn't want to be seen in public, you must remember." "That is true. But how do they get upstairs--through the saloon?" "There may be a back way. Let us look." They walked around to the rear of the building and here found a door leading into a back hall. But the door was locked. "This is the way up, I feel sure," said Dick. "Somebody has locked the door as a safeguard." "Then, I'm afraid, we'll have to give it up." "Not yet, Songbird." Dick had been looking over toward the rear of the butcher shop. "See, the painters are at work here and have left one of their ladders. Wonder if we can't move it over and put it up under one of those windows?" The matter was talked over for a minute, and then the two boys took hold of the long ladder and did as Dick desired. "This may be a wild goose chase," was Powell's comment. "And if it is, and Mike Sherry discovers us, he'll want us to explain. Maybe he'll take us for burglars." "You can keep shady if you want to, Songbird. I'm going up," and so speaking Dick began to mount the ladder. The window under which the ladder had been placed was open from the top only, and a half curtain over the lower portion hid what was beyond from view. So, in order to look over the curtain, Dick had to climb to the very top of the ladder and then brace his feet on the window sill. He could now hear voices quite plainly, and presently heard Lew Flapp speak. "I'm on the right track," he called softly to Powell. "They are in the room next to this one, but the door between is wide open." "Shall I come up?" "Suit yourself. I'm going inside." As good as his word, Dick slipped over the top of the lowered window sash, and an instant later stood in the room, which was but dimly lit. Then he tiptoed his way behind a door and peeped into the room beyond. Seven cadets were present, including Lew Flapp, Ben Hurdy, and their particular cronies Jackson, Pender, and Rockley. The others were two young cadets named Joe Davis and Harry Moss. On the table in the center of the room stood a platter of chicken sandwiches and also several bottles containing beer and wine, and a box of cigars. Evidently all of the crowd had been eating and drinking, and now several were filling the apartment with tobacco smoke. "Come, smoke up, Moss," cried Lew Flapp, shoving the box of cigars toward one of the younger cadets. "Don't be afraid. It won't kill you." "Thank you, Flapp, but I--I guess I won't to-night," pleaded Harry Moss, whose face was strangely flushed. "Why not?" "I--I--don't feel well. The drinking has made me feel sick." "Oh, nonsense! Here, take this cigar and smoke up. It will brace your nerves. And you, Davis, have another glass of something to drink," went on Lew Flapp, pouring out a glassful and handing it to the one addressed. "Thank you, Flapp, but I don't want any more," answered Joe Davis. He looked as ill at ease as did Harry Moss. "Don't you want to be sociable?" demanded the tall boy. "It isn't that, Flapp. I--I guess I've had enough already." "Oh, don't be a sissy, Davis. Here, I'll drink with you, and then I'll smoke a cigar with Moss. If you are going to be men you want to start right in. Eh, Rockley?" "That's right, Lew," answered Rockley, as he lit a fresh cigar. "What you need is another glass, Davis," came from Pender. "It will act as a bracer. Just try it and see." "I--I don't want to get--get--" faltered Davis. "Get what?" "Intoxicated--really I don't--" "Who said anything about that?" demanded Lew Flapp in apparent anger. "Don't be a fool. One more glass won't hurt you. Here, take it," and he almost forced the liquor to Joe Davis's lips. But before he could accomplish his wicked design Dick Rover leaped quickly into the apartment and hurled the glass from the big boy's hand. "For shame, Flapp!" he cried. "For shame!" "And that's what I say, too," came from Powell, who was close behind Dick. Every cadet in the room was astonished, and all leaped to their feet. "What's up?" cried Rockley. "They have been spying on us!" came from Jackson. "Talk about meanness! This is the limit!" added Pender. "I want you to leave Joe Davis and Harry Moss alone," went on Dick, as calmly as he could. "It's an outrage to get them to drink and smoke against their will." "Are you two alone?" asked Lew Flapp, glancing nervously over the newcomers' shoulders. "We are." "What right had you to come here?" "Well, we took the right." "Then you enjoy playing the spy?" "No, Flapp," said Dick boldly, "but I do enjoy doing Davis and Moss a favor." "What do you mean by that?" "I mean that I am going to stand by them, so you shall not get them to drink any more or smoke." "Humph! What right have you to interfere?" "Maybe he's going to squeal to the captain," put in Jackson. "If he does that I'll punch his head for him!" roared Lew Flapp, who had been drinking just enough to make him ugly and unreasonable. "I did not come here to squeal on anybody," answered Dick. "I know you did--and I'm going to pound you well for it!" howled Lew Flapp, and on the instant he leaped forward and aimed a savage blow with his fist at Dick's head. CHAPTER XI A QUARREL AND ITS RESULT Had the blow landed as intended Dick Rover would have received a bloody nose and might perhaps have lost one or two teeth. But Dick was on the alert and he dodged to one side, so the blow landed on Songbird Powell's shoulder. "See here, what do you mean by that, Flapp?" demanded Powell, who was no weakling. "I meant to hit Rover," was the answer. "Hands off, Flapp!" cried Dick. "I didn't come here to fight, but I can defend myself." "We'll see!" roared the unreasonable tall boy, and made another rush at Dick. But in a twinkling he found himself flat on the floor, where he had been thrown with a suddenness that took away his breath. "Hi! that ain't fair," put in Rockley. "You let Lew alone." "I will, when he leaves me alone," retorted Dick. He turned to Harry Moss and Joe Davis. "Do you want to stay here any longer?" "No," answered both of the small cadets promptly. "I didn't wish to come at all, but Ben Hurdy urged it," continued Harry Moss. "And Pender said it would do no harm," added Joe Davis. "He said we were going to have nothing but sandwiches, root beer, and soda." "Look here, Davis, you keep your mouth shut!" cried Pender. "You knew exactly what to expect. You know Mike Sherry don't run a temperance hotel," he continued, with a sneer. At these words Joe Davis grew pale. "Yes, I know it--now, and if I ever get out of it, I shan't come again." "Oh, you're too good to live!" broke in Jackson. "You ought to be laid away in a glass case for safe keeping." "Davis is all right, and he has more brains than you, Jackson," came from Dick. "If you want to make a fool of yourself by drinking and smoking, I shan't stop you. But you shan't drag Joe and Harry into it against their will." "That's the way to talk, Dick," said Powell. "Let us clear out, and take the youngsters with us." By this time Lew Flap had recovered from the flooring received and now he approached Dick once more. "Do you want me to hammer you good, Rover?" he panted. "As I said before, Flapp, I didn't come here to fight, but I can defend myself. I propose to leave quietly, and take Harry and Joe with me." "Supposing I won't let you leave?" "I don't think you'll stop me." "Come, Flapp, don't make a fool of yourself," put in Powell. "We didn't come here to quarrel, but to urge all of the crowd to quit drinking. You know it's against the Hall rules and regulations." "And you intend to blab on us?" "Not at all. I'm not that kind. And Dick Rover isn't either." "I know how to fix 'em," came from Pender, with a cunning look in his eye. "How?" asked Flapp and Rockley, in concert. "Our word is as good as anybody's. If they say they found us at Mike Sherry's we can say that we found them there, too. For all we know they were drinking below before they came up." "That's it!" interrupted Lew Flapp, thinking he saw a way of implicating Dick and Powell. "Mike Sherry never lets anybody in his saloon without they drink something." "It's as plain as day," came from Rockley. "They had all the liquor they wanted before they came up, and now they want to stop our sport." "Your story might be believed were it not for one thing," said Dick, trying to keep calm. "Come on, Harry, come, Joe." And he whispered something into their ears. "Oh, all right," said Harry Moss, and he retreated from the room, speedily followed by Joe Davis. "Hi! come back here, you young scamps!" roared Lew Flapp. And then he made for the doorway leading to the next room. "Not so fast, Flapp!" said Dick, and blocked the opening with his own form, while Powell stood directly behind. "Say, fellows, Moss and Davis are getting out of the window!" cried Flapp, in astonishment. "That's the way Rover and Powell must have gotten in," came from Pender. "Exactly," answered Dick, "and that proves we didn't have to stop below for liquor," he added triumphantly. "Look here, I don't mean to let those fellows go yet," blustered Lew Flapp. "Let me get at them." "Not to-night, Flapp." Scarcely had Dick spoken when the tall boy flung himself forward. The pair grappled, and a moment later both went down, with Dick on top. "Hit him, Dick, don't let him get the best of you!" cried Powell, and an instant later found himself tackled by Pender and Jackson. For the moment Ben Hurdy, who had remained silent during the most of the talk, did nothing, but then he ran forward, and watching his chance, kicked Dick in the side of the head with his foot. The quarrel was now on in earnest, and in the midst of the melee a burly waiter came rushing from below, demanding to know what was the matter. "A pair of spies!" shouted Pender. "Help us to give them a sound thrashing, Pat." "Sure, Oi will that!" was the answer, and the waiter joined in the attack on Dick and Powell. It was with a mighty effort that Powell managed to throw off his assailants. Then he leaped for the window, reached the ladder, and fairly slid to the ground. "Let up on Dick Rover!" he called, when safe. "If you don't, I'll rouse the constable and have somebody locked up." "Confound him!" muttered Rockley. "We had better dust out. If he calls a constable the jig will be up." With a parting kick at Dick he rushed down the back stairs to the resort, and unlocked the door. Taking care that Powell should not see him, he darted into the gathering darkness. Ben Hurdy followed Rockley, and a moment later Pender and Jackson did the same. Then Flapp came staggering down the stairs, holding his nose, from which the blood was flowing freely. "Let's get back to the Hall as quickly as we can," he said to the others. "And if we are examined, we can deny everything." "All right," said Pender. "But what did you do to Rover?" "Somebody kicked him and he's about half unconscious. I left him to the tender mercies of Pat the waiter." And then Lew Flapp and his cronies hurried away on the road leading to Putnam Hall. Dick might have defended himself, but he was cruelly kicked several times, and partly lost consciousness, as already told. In a dim, uncertain manner he felt himself raised up and carried below, and then put on the grass of the yard behind Mike Sherry's resort. When he was able to move he sat up and then arose to his feet slowly. At that moment Songbird Powell discovered him. Powell had been up the ladder a second time, to find the window closed and locked. "Dick!" he exclaimed. "Are you badly hurt?" "I--I don't know," was the slow reply. "How are you?" "I'm all right?" "Where are Flapp and the rest?" "They ran away." "And Harry and Joe?" "They are waiting for us, down at the turn in the road." Dick put his hand to his head, to find a big lump directly back of the ear. His ear was cut, and there was a scratch on his chin. "They didn't fight fair," he explained, when he felt a little stronger. "They kicked me when I was down." Aided by Powell he made his way to a pump and there bathed his head and procured a drink of water. While both boys were recovering from the adventure all the lights in Mike Sherry's resort were put out and every door and window was locked. "He wants to steer clear of trouble," said Powell. "I put the blame on Lew Flapp," answered Dick. "To my mind he is about as mean as any boy around here." "Of course we can't report him, Dick." "No, I'm no tale-bearer, Songbird. But he ought to be punished." "He'll make a fine major, if he's elected," went on Powell, as he and Dick started for the road leading to the academy. "He shall never be elected, if I can help it." "I am with you on that." They found Harry Moss and Joe Davis walking slowly toward Putnam Hall. Joe seemed to feel all right now that he was out in the fresh evening air, but Harry complained of a strange sickness at the stomach. "It was horrid of Lew Flapp to make us drink," said the young cadet. "I told him I didn't want anything stronger than soda. But he and Pender made me take it." "I think the walk will do you good, Harry," answered Dick kindly. "Here, take my arm, and Songbird can take your other arm." When the Hall was reached they found that Lew Flapp and his cronies had already gone to bed. Dick took Harry and Joe to their dormitory and then rejoined Powell. "Going to keep mum?" asked the latter. "For the present," answered the eldest Rover. "But after this let us keep a sharp eye on Flapp, Pender & Company." And so it was agreed. CHAPTER XII THE ELECTION FOR OFFICERS On the following morning all of the cadets but Harry Moss appeared in the messroom. "Joe Davis says Harry is quite sick," said Powell to Dick. "That's too bad. Have they sent for a doctor?" "I don't know." When Lew Flapp heard that Harry was sick he grew pale, and during the morning session could scarcely fix his mind on his studies. "I hope the little fool don't blab on us," was his thought. "If he does there is no telling what the captain will do. He's altogether too strict for comfort in some things." No doctor was sent for, so it was finally agreed that Harry Moss was not as ill as had been supposed. But the young cadet did not enter the schoolroom for all of that day. The sickness had frightened Captain Putnam, who was not yet over the scarlet fever scare, and he questioned Harry thoroughly about what he had been doing, and about what he had been eating and drinking. At first the young cadet did not dare to tell the truth, but finally he blurted out that he had taken a glass of liquor against his will and it had turned his stomach in a most painful manner. "Where did you get the liquor?" demanded Captain Putnam sternly. "I--I--oh, must I tell you, sir?" "Yes, Harry." "I--that is, Lew Flapp--Oh, sir, I don't want to be a tattle-tale." "Did Lew Flapp give you the liquor? Answer me at once." "Yes, sir, he and another cadet named Pender. But, sir, I don't want to hurt them. I--I--" and here Harry burst into tears. "Where was this?" "Down in Cedarville, sir. But, I--I--I shan't say any more, Captain Putnam," and after that Harry remained silent. As it was plain to see that he was suffering, Captain Putnam did not push the matter. But he called Lew Flapp and Pender into his private office and interviewed the unworthy pair for fully half an hour. "To do such a thing is outrageous," said the captain. "If I hear of it again I shall dismiss you from the Hall at once." On the following morning one of the assistant teachers made a brief announcement that filled the entire school with curiosity. "On next Monday you are to have an election of officers for the term," said he. "As you know, twenty cadets were selected as worthy of being elected. The list has since been cut down to eighteen. Lew Flapp and Augustus Pender will not run." At this announcement Dick and Powell looked at each other significantly. All of the other cadets looked around to find Flapp and Pender, but the pair were absent, nor did they put in an appearance at all until the next school session. "The captain found it out in some way," said Dick to Powell. "Shouldn't wonder if Harry Moss let the cat out of the bag," was the answer. "It's queer about Flapp and Pender," declared Tom to his older brother. "Do you know why they were dropped?" "Yes, Tom, but I don't want you to say anything about it." "There's a report around that they were found cutting loose in the village," put in Sam. "Well, as I said before, I don't want to speak about it," went on Dick. A few of the boys dared to question Flapp and Pender, but got no satisfaction. "If I want to drop out I reckon I can do it," growled Flapp, and that was as much as either he or his crony would say. With Flapp out of the race there was considerable curiosity to know who would be elected for the term. Each set of cadets had their favorite candidates and the spirit of rivalry ran high. But most of the candidates were good-natured about it, and especially Dick and Tom Rover and George Granbury, Fred Garrison, and Larry Colby. It had been decided that the cadets should first elect the major, then the three captains, and then the six lieutenants, all to be selected according to the highest number of votes received. The voting began on Monday immediately after breakfast. Captain Putnam had slips passed around and on these each cadet wrote down his choice for major. "I will read the result," said the captain, a few minutes after the poll was declared closed. And he read as follows: "Whole number of votes cast--96. "Lawrence Colby has 67. "The next highest student has 19. "Lawrence Colby is declared elected major of the battalion for the present term, including the annual encampment." "Hurrah for Major Larry Colby!" cried Tom, and a rousing cheer followed, while Captain Putnam strode over and shook hands with the newly elected commanding officer. "I must congratulate you, Major Colby," he said warmly. "I must say I am well satisfied with the choice of our students." "Thank you, sir," answered Larry, and blushed in spite of himself. "We will now proceed to the election of the three captains," went on Captain Putnam. "Remember, the three standing highest on the list will be declared elected respectively." Again slips were passed around and again the students marked down the names of their favorites, three upon each slip. Counting up the vote for captains took longer than that for major, but soon the captain had his statement ready and the cadets listened in silence as he proceeded to make his announcement: "Whole number of votes cast, 288. "Richard Rover has 82. "Fred Garrison has 67. "Mark Romer has 59. "The next highest student has 28. "Richard Rover is elected captain of Company A, Frederick Garrison captain of Company B, and Mark Romer captain of Company C, for this term and during the annual encampment." "Hurrah for Dick Rover!" "Hurrah for Fred Garrison and Mark Romer!" And then the students cheered as wildly as ever, while Captain Putnam once more offered his congratulations. "Captain Rover, my hand," said Larry, coming up. "Thank you, Major Colby," answered Dick, and then both gave a grip that meant a good deal. "We seem to be right in it," observed the newly elected major. "That's true," answered Dick. "We shall now proceed to the election of six lieutenants," went on Captain Putnam, and once more the slips went the rounds, and the boys did a lot of writing and speculating as each put down the six names required. This vote was rather a long one, and Captain Putnam had two teachers help him in tabulating the result. "This contest must make Flapp feel sick," whispered Powell to Dick, while the students were taking it easy on the parade ground. "Well, he brought it on himself," was the brief reply. "I'll wager he tries to square up with us, especially if he thinks we told on him." A bugle sounded, calling the cadets together, and once more Captain Putnam read the result: "Whole number of votes cast, 576. "John Powell has 83. "William Merrick has 76. "Walter Durham has 71. "Thomas Rover has 68. "George Granbury has 51. "Raymond Hollbrook has 43. "The next highest cadet has 38. "John Powell is declared first lieutenant of Company A, William Merrick first lieutenant of Company B, Walter Durham first lieutenant of Company C, Thomas Rover second lieutenant of Company A, George Granbury second lieutenant of Company B, and Raymond Hollbrook second lieutenant of Company C, for this term and during the annual encampment." As this announcement was made there was a breathless silence. Then came a rousing cheer and the various successful ones were congratulated by the captain and their friends. "Well, Songbird, it seems you are to be my first lieutenant," said Dick as he shook hands with Powell. "That suits me first-rate." "And I am to be second lieutenant," said Tom, coming up. "With Sam in the company as private this begins to look like a family affair." "Oh, I'm going to make you fellows toe the mark now," laughed Dick. "No more skylarking, if you please, Lieutenant Rover." "All right, Captain Rover," replied Tom, with a stiff salute that was side-splitting. Taking it all the way through the election was declared to be a popular success. Of course some of the defeated candidates were bitterly disappointed, but they did their best to hide their true feelings. William Philander Tubbs had declined to vote and Lew Flapp and Gus Pender had kept entirely out of sight while the voting was going on. The two cronies took themselves to the gymnasium and there declared their hatred of Dick Rover. "He is responsible for this," muttered Flapp, clenching his fists and grating his teeth. "But for him I might at this minute be major of the battalion, or one of the captains. Oh, but won't I square up some day!" "What will you do?" questioned Pender. "Remember, I'm just as down on him as you are." "I don't know yet, Gus. But I'll do something." "All right; when you are ready to act, let me know, and I'll help you all I can," answered Gus Pender. CHAPTER XIII THE FIGHT AT THE BOATHOUSE Inside of a week the newly-elected officers felt perfectly at home in their various positions. Captain Putnam's idea of allowing only such cadets to be candidates as could fill the positions properly had borne good fruit, and the battalion was now in better condition than ever before. Contrary to general expectations, Larry Colby, as major, proved a strict disciplinarian when on parade. In the playground he was as "chummy" as ever, but this was cast aside when he buckled on his sword and took command. "This is as it should be," was Captain Putnam's comment. "And it is the same throughout life: play is play and business is business." As a captain Dick was equally successful and Tom also made a good second lieutenant. Company A was speedily voted superior to the others, when drilling and when on the march, and consequently became the flag bearer for the term. "This is splendid!" said Dick, when the announcement was made. And then he went at Company A, to make the cadets drill and march better than ever. But though the students gave considerable time to military matters, they were not permitted to neglect their regular studies, and to their honor be it said that the three Rover boys pitched in with a will. "If I can't be an officer I'm going to be a high grade student anyway," said Sam, and kept his word. Books suited him better than did military glories, and soon he was at the top of his class in almost every branch of learning. Many of the cadets were anxious to know where the annual encampment would be held, but for the time being Captain Putnam declined to discuss the subject. "We will talk about that as soon as lessons are done for the term," said he. "I don't believe we'll go to Brierroot Grove again," said Powell to Dick. "A farmer has built a house up there and is clearing off the land as fast as he can." "I wish we could go to some place at a distance," returned Dick. "All of us know this territory pretty well. I like to visit new localities." "So do I." During those days the Rover boys received a letter from their father which proved unusually interesting. Anderson Rover wrote, in part, as follows: "You will be surprised to learn, at this late day, that something had been heard about Arnold Baxter. A man who knows him fairly well met him a few nights ago in Owego. The news was telegraphed to me at once, and the local police were informed, but since that time nothing more has been seen or heard of the rascal. The man said he was well dressed and had been stopping at a leading hotel. Evidently he is using what was stolen." "In Owego!" cried Sam. "Why, that city isn't over fifty miles from here." "This is his old stamping ground," put in Tom. "For all we know he may now be hanging around Ithaca or Cedarville." "I don't believe he'll come here," said Dick. "He is too well known." "Oh, if only we could lay hands on him, Dick!" "Wish we could, Tom. But Arnold Baxter knows enough to keep out of our clutches." "Wonder if he knows what became of Dan?" "Like as not our story was in all the newspapers, and they mentioned Dan too." "If that is so, it's more than likely he thinks we are responsible for Dan being left behind on the island." "I'm not going to bother my head about Arnold Baxter," put in Sam. "If he shows himself I'll have him arrested, that's all." One day after another slipped by and all of the boys continued to study with a will. Once they received long letters from Dora Stanhope and Nellie and Grace Laning, and sent long letters in return. "Wish the girls were back here," said Dick. But this could not be, as they had decided to remain in California for a while longer, and the boys had to content themselves by sending the girls keepsakes by which to be remembered. On the Friday afternoon preceding the final week of the term Tom and Sam walked down to the lake, intending to go out in a boat for a short row. As they drew close to the boathouse they heard loud talking and then a cry of pain. "Please don't," came in the voice of a young cadet. "Please, please don't, Flapp!" "But I just will, you little imp!" came in Lew Flapp's harsh voice. "I'll teach you to play the sneak!" "But I--I didn't mean to do anything, really I didn't," answered the other. "But I felt so sick, and I--" "Oh, I know you, Moss. For two pins I'd break your head for you!" And then came the sounds of several blows in quick succession. "It's Flapp!" cried Sam. "He is beating somebody most shamefully." "It's little Harry Moss," returned Tom, leaping to the front. "The big bully! Why can't he take a fellow of his own size?" He rushed around the corner of the boathouse and there beheld a scene that aroused his warmest indignation. Harry Moss was crowded into a corner and over him stood Lew Flapp, beating him with a heavy boat chain. Flapp had just raised the chain for another blow when Tom ran in and caught his arm. "Stop!" he cried. "You let Harry Moss alone!" Startled at the interruption Lew Flapp turned. When he saw both Tom and Sam his face fell. "What do you want here?" he asked sulkily. "I want you to leave Harry Moss alone," answered Tom. "Oh, Rover, please make him stop," pleaded Harry. "He's trying to kill me!" "No, I ain't," retorted Flapp. "I'm only giving him a whipping that he deserves." "It's an outrage to strike anybody with that chain," said Sam. "You needn't put your oar in, Sam Rover!" "But he just will, and so will I," said Tom. "Give me that chain," and he tried to pull it from Lew Flapp's hand. "Let go!" screamed Lew Flapp, and began a struggle to keep the chain in his possession. He struck at Tom, hitting him in the shoulder. Then Tom got mad, doubled up his fist, and Lew Flapp received a blow in the left eye that made him see stars. "Oh!" he howled and dropped the chain. "Tom Rover, I'll get even for that, mind that!" "What do you mean by attacking Harry Moss in such a disgraceful fashion?" "Because he's a sneak, and you know it." "I know nothing of the kind." "Didn't he go and blab on me to Captain Putnam?" "About what?" Lew Flapp paused and eyed Tom and Sam curiously. "I reckon you know well enough," he remarked slowly. "But I don't know anything. Do you, Sam?" "Not a thing. So far as I know Harry is all right." "Is he?" sneered Flapp. "Well, I don't think so." "What was the trouble about, Harry?" asked Tom, turning to the small boy. "Don't you say a word!" shouted Lew Flapp, in alarm. "If Tom and Sam Rover don't know already they needn't know at all, so there." "Evidently you don't want Harry to talk," said Sam suggestively. "He's a sneak, I tell you." "And you are a big, long-legged bully," retorted Tom. "For two pins I'd give you a good drubbing." "Humph! Do you think you can lick me?" blustered Flapp, who felt certain he could best Tom at fisticuffs. "I don't think so--I know it," said Tom coolly. "Don't you fight him, Tom," said Sam, in alarm. "He only wants to get you into trouble. He'd like nothing better than to see you lose your position as lieutenant." "He's afraid," sneered Lew Flapp. "All of you Rover boys are mere bags of wind." "I don't think you found Dick a bag of wind, Flapp." "Yes, I did. Now you clear out and let Moss and me settle this affair between us." But this was not to be, for Harry Moss was already at the doorway of the boathouse and now he retreated to a safe distance. "If you hit Tom Rover, or Sam, I'll call Mr. Strong?" cried the little cadet. "Don't you do it," said Tom. "I am not afraid of Flapp." "But he's so big, Tom." "I don't care for that." Tom had scarcely spoken when Lew Flapp, watching his opportunity, leaped forward and planted a blow on his chin that sent him staggering back into Sam's arms. "Now come on, if you dare!" he cried. "All right!" came from Tom, as he recovered. And like a flash he flew at Lew Flapp, before Sam could do a thing to stop him. Blow after blow was taken and given by each of the cadets, and Tom was hit in the chest, on the shoulder, and in the left cheek. In return Flapp got one in the right eye that almost closed up that optic and then came a blow on the nose that made the blood spurt in all directions. "Good for you, Tom!" cried Sam, dancing around, forgetful of what he had just said about his brother getting into trouble. "That's the time you did it. Now give him another!" Again the two boys went at it and once more Tom was struck in the shoulder. Then Lew Flapp aimed for Tom's face, but the latter ducked and, recovering, hit the big boy a heavy blow in the chin that made his teeth rattle and sent him staggering over the side of an upturned boat and flat on his back. "Hurrah!" cried Sam. "That was almost a knockout, Tom. Now give him to understand--" Sam broke off short, as a warning cry from Harry Moss reached his ears. All eyes turned toward the doorway of the boathouse and a second later George Strong, the head teacher, stepped into view. CHAPTER XIV GETTING READY FOR THE ENCAMPMENT For fully ten seconds after the head teacher appeared nobody spoke. Lew Flapp arose slowly to his feet, and bringing out his handkerchief applied it to his bleeding nose. "What does this mean?" demanded George Strong sternly. "He--he pitched into me," faltered Flapp. "That is hardly true," returned Tom hotly. "Both of you are well aware that it is against the rules of this school to fight," went on the teacher. "I know that, Mr. Strong," answered Tom. "But Flapp struck me first." "It isn't so!" cried the big boy. "I wasn't doing anything, when Rover came along and started to quarrel." "My brother Sam and Harry Moss can prove that Flapp struck me first." "That is true," said Harry Moss, while Sam nodded. "What was the quarrel about?" "I caught him here, beating Harry with this boat chain. I told him to stop and then he pitched into me." "Is this true, Moss?" "Ye--yes, sir, but--I--I--didn't want to say anything about it, sir." "Do you mean to say that Flapp attacked you with that chain?" Harry Moss was silent. "Answer me." "He did. But, Mr. Strong, I don't want to make any complaint. He and some of the others think I'm a--a sneak already," and now Harry could hardly keep back his tears. "I don't know why he attacked Harry," put in Tom. "But I couldn't stand it, and I took the chain away from him and told him to stop. Then he struck me, and we pitched into each other--and I guess he got the worst of it," added Tom, a bit triumphantly. "Hum! Flapp, you may go and bathe your nose, which I see is bleeding, and then come to Captain Putnam's office. The others can come to the office with me." George Strong led the way, and Tom, Sam, and Harry Moss followed. The teacher took along the boat chain and made Harry show where he had been struck. Captain Putnam looked very grave when the affair was explained to him. He questioned Harry in private and learned that the attack was made by Flapp because of what the young cadet had told about drinking and smoking. "Rover, it was wrong to fight," said the captain to Tom. "But under the circumstances I am inclined to be lenient with you. You can retire, and this evening during off time I want you to write one hundred times, the proverb beginning, 'Blessed are the peace-makers.'" "Yes, sir," said Tom humbly. He was glad to escape thus easily, for he knew that the captain was very strict concerning fighting. A little later the others were sent off, leaving Lew Flapp alone with Captain Putnam. "Flapp," said the owner of the school, with a hardness that made the big boy's heart sink into his shoes. "I hardly know what to say to you. Your former conduct was mean enough, and this appears to be on a level with it. With such a heavy boat chain you might have injured Moss very seriously. Do you want me to give you another chance or not?" "Wh--what do you mean, sir?" asked Flapp, much frightened. "Do you want to remain at Putnam Hall, or shall I send you home in disgrace?" "I--I don't want to go home," said the big boy. His father was a rough man and he knew that if his parent heard of this trouble he would make him pay dearly for it. "I expect my pupils to be young gentlemen," went on Captain Putnam. "This is an academy for the better class of boys only. Bad boys do not come here, but are sent to the reformatory. If I give you another chance will you promise to do better in the future?" "Yes, sir." "Very well then, I will give you one more chance. I believe you are somewhat behind in your arithmetic. During the next four days you will remain in during all off time and apply yourself to such examples as your teacher gives you." "Yes, sir." "Now you can go, and remember, I want to hear of no further fighting, and no further molesting of Harry Moss." "I'll remember, sir," answered Lew Flapp meekly, and then left the office and ran up to his dormitory, to bathe his nose and put witch-hazel on his hurts. Although outwardly humble he was in reality burning with rage. "I'll have to be careful in the future," he told himself, with clenched fists. "But I'll get square--oh, I'll get square!" "Hullo, hurt yourself?" asked Pender, as he came in. "Yes, I fell over a boat down at the boathouse," answered the big boy. "Is that so? I heard something of a fight, and came up to see about it." "Oh, I had a row with Harry Moss and Tom Rover, but it didn't amount to much, Gus. But, say, I just wish I could square up with Dick Rover, and Tom, too!" "You said something like that before." "I'm going to watch my chances." "Perhaps something will turn up during the encampment." "Yes, I was thinking of that. A fellow has more of a chance in camp than he does in school." "It would be a fine thing to get Dick Rover into trouble and make him lose his position as captain," went on Gus Pender. "Yes, and make Tom Rover lose his position as lieutenant, too," added Flapp. The term at Putnam Hall was now drawing to a close and it was not long before the semi-annual examinations began. All of the Rovers worked hard over their papers, and with more or less success. Sam came out at the top of his class, while Tom stood third in his grade, and Dick third in a still higher class. The boys lost no time in sending the news home, and received word back that not only their father, but also Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha, were much pleased with the result. "Now we'll feel as if we deserve an outing," said Tom, and Sam and Dick agreed with him. It was on the following morning that Captain Putnam made an announcement that filled all of the cadets with interest. "You are all anxious, I know, to learn where the annual encampment is to be held," said he, during general assembly. "I am pleased to be able to announce that I have arranged to hold it at Pine Island, a fine bit of ground, located close to the south shore of Bass Lake. The lake is situated about thirty-five miles from here, and we will make a two-days' march to the spot, stopping on the road over night, in true soldier style, weather permitting." "Hurrah!" burst out half a dozen cadets. "Three cheers for Captain Putnam!" called out Tom, and they were given with a will. "I am told that the lake is an excellent one for fishing and for bathing, and I have already engaged six boats which the cadets will be allowed to use from time to time." Again there was a cheer and with it a loud clapping of hands. "While in camp you may play such games as you please, during off time, and we will see if we cannot arrange for contests at swimming, rowing, and running, and to the winners suitable prizes shall be given." "Hurrah for Captain Putnam!" came the cry once more, and again a cheer arose. "When will we start, captain?" "Wish we were going right now!" "We shall start Monday morning," was the answer. "To-morrow we will get out our tents and camping outfits and see that all are in first-class order. It is perhaps needless to add that during this encampment the officers will be in authority during all but off hours, when myself and my assistants will take charge." This ended the talk, and the students immediately broke up into little groups to discuss the good news. "We ought to have just a boss good time while in camp," cried Sam. "Think of living in tents, and having nothing to do but fish, and swim, and make yourself comfortable." "Sam must be getting lazy," returned Dick. "But I grant you I think it will be first-class myself." About the only pupil who did not relish going into camp was William Philander Tubbs. "It will be beastly to live out in the open, on the ground," said Tubbs. "Supposing it should rain? Why, we'll all get wet!" "Never mind, that will make you grow, Tubby," said Sam. "Sam Rover, how often must I tell you not to address me as--ah--Tubby. My full name is--" "Oh, I know that--William Longfellow Washington Hezekiah Philander Salamander Tubbs. But you can't expect me to say that every time, can you?" questioned Sam innocently. "Mine cracious! vos dot his hull name?" burst in Hans Mueller. "It's apout as long as a freight drain, ain't it, alretty!" "No, my name is--" "Perhaps I forgot one or two syllables," interrupted Sam. "Very sorry, I'm sure." "I said my name--" "I know you said it, half a dozen times, Billy. But you see life is so very short, and time so precious--" "I meant to say--" "Sorry, Billy, but I can't wait to hear it all," cried Sam, and ran away. "He is--er--extremely rude," murmured Tubbs. "Put dot's a long name, ain't it?" said Hans, "I couldn't remember dot no more as I can remember der names of all der kings py England alretty." "Oh, I am disgusted!" sighed William Philander, and started to walk away. "Vot is you disgusted apout, Mr. Dubbs?" "Because they won't call me by my proper name." "Do da call you by your imbrober name?" asked Hans innocently. "Eh?" "I said, do da call you py your imbrober name?" repeated the German youth. "Oh, don't talk to me," howled Tubbs, and walked away more disconcerted than ever. "Dot fellow vas so sharp like a pox of bebber, ain't it?" sighed Hans to himself. The preparations for the annual encampment went forward rapidly. All of the outfit was inspected with care and found to be in good order. Each cadet was provided with a blanket, and a knapsack full of extra underclothing and other necessary things. The captain had already engaged three big wagons to carry the tents, poles, and cooking utensils, including several camp stoves, and from another quarter cots were to be sent to the camp direct, so that the cadets would not be compelled to lie upon the ground. "Now, I guess everything is ready," said Dick; late Saturday evening. Sunday was a day of rest for the most part. In the morning the majority of the students marched to church under the directions of the captain and Mr. Strong, and part of the afternoon was spent in writing letters to the folks at home. "Lights out," sounded half an hour earlier than usual, so that the cadets might get a good sleep before starting out on the two days' march. CHAPTER XV ON THE MARCH TO CAMP _Rat-tat-tat!_ _Rat-tat-tat!_ _Rat-tat-tat!_ The cadets got their first taste of the annual encampment early in the morning, when, instead of hearing the familiar bell, they were awakened by the rolling of the drum. "Time to get up, everybody!" cried Sam, flinging the covers from him. "It won't do to be late this morning." "That is true, Private Rover," came solemnly from Dick. "I will fine any soldier of my command who is behind time." "Thank you, Captain Rover, I'll remember that," came from one of the other cadets. "And how is Lieutenant Rover this morning"? "Fine as silk," came from Tom, who was already splashing in the cold water of his washbowl. "I'll bet a big red apple against a turnip that I'm down first," and he began to don his uniform with remarkable rapidity. All of the students were soon below, and then the various companies marched into the messroom for their last breakfast at the Hall for some time to come. "I see the wagons have already left," said Sam. "Yes, the drivers are to get the camp in readiness for to-night," answered his big brother. Knowing that they had a long march before them, the majority of the cadets ate a hearty breakfast. Mrs. Green, the housekeeper, was sorry to have them leave, and had prepared an unusually fine repast. "Mrs. Green is just all right," declared Tom. "I move we give her a vote of thanks." And this was later on done, much to the old lady's delight. It was a perfect day. The sun shone brightly, and there was just enough breeze to keep the atmosphere fresh and exhilarating. Captain Putnam was to accompany the students on horseback, and the teachers had already gone off with the wagons. "Battalion, attention!" shouted Major Larry Colby, when the cadets were assembled on the parade ground. And the order was immediately obeyed. "Shoulder arms!" was the next order given, and up went every gun in unison. The movement was so pretty that the spectators who had gathered to see the boys march off clapped their hands in approval. "Forward--march!" came next, and the drums and fifes struck up, and away went the cadets, company front, toward the road. "By column of fours!" was the next command, and Captain Dick Rover turned to his company. "By column of fours!" he repeated, and Company A broke up into four abreast and turned into the road leading off in the direction of Pine Island. The other companies also broke up, and in a minute more the cadets were really and truly on the march for the camp. The drums and fifes sounded well on that bracing morning air, and quite a crowd of boys and not a few girls followed the students over the first of the hills back of Putnam Hall. But here the crowd dropped gradually away, until the young soldiers had the country road practically to themselves. For a full mile the cadets were made to keep in step. Then came the order, "Route step!" and they moved forward as pleased them, keeping together, however, by companies. The route step is given that one may take the step that is most natural to him, be it longer or shorter than the regulation step. Farms were rather scattered in that neighborhood, but occasionally they passed country homes, when all the folks would rush forth to learn what the drumming and fifing meant. "They are the Putnam Hall cadets," said one farm woman. "How neat they look and how nicely they march!" "Puts me in mind o' war times, Mirandy," said her husband. "Don't you remember how the boys marched away in them days"? "Indeed I do, Ira," answered the woman. "But that was real, while this is only for fun." "Well, I reckon some o' those lads would make putty good soldiers, were they put to it. They handle their guns like veterans." The cadets marched until ten o'clock and then stopped for a brief rest near a fine hillside spring, where all procured a drink. Then they moved forward again until noon, when they reached a small village where dinner already awaited them. "We have covered twelve miles," said Captain Putnam. "Eight more, and the day's march will be over." The cadets were glad enough to eat their dinner and take it easy on the porch of the old country hotel at which they had stopped. "Imagine us marching off to war," observed Sam. "How would you like it, Tom"? "Oh, I don't think I would complain," was the answer. "Anything for a bit of excitement." The day's march was completed long before sundown, and the battalion came to a halt in an open field through which flowed a shaded brook. The tents were at hand and the students lost no time in putting up the shelters. Food was supplied for the occasion by a farmer living near, for it was not deemed advisable to unload the cook stoves and build the necessary fires. The farmer gave the students permission to visit his apple orchard, and this the majority did, returning to the temporary camp with their pockets fairly bulging with apples. The weather remained clear and warm, so the first night in the open proved very agreeable. A camp-fire was lit just for the look of things, and around this the cadets gathered, telling stories and singing songs until it was time to turn in. Sleeping in a tent just suited the Rover boys and none of them awoke until sunrise. Soon the whole camp was astir, and each cadet took a good washing up at the brook. Breakfast was supplied by the farmer, and by nine o'clock the column was once again in motion on its way to Pine Island. "Dot sleeping out in der air vos a funny dings," said Hans Mueller to Sam. "I vake up der middle of der night in und find a pig mouskeeter mine toe on alretty!" "Be thankful that it wasn't something worse, Hans," said Sam. "What would you do if you woke up and saw a big black bear standing beside your cot"? "I dink I cofer mine head kvick, Sammy." "But the bear might chew the cover up." "Den I vos rund for mine life und holler like sixty!" "Well, you want to keep your eyes open for bears," added Sam, thinking he scented fun ahead. "How vos I going to keep mine eyes oben of I go to sleep, tell me dot"? "You'll have to figure that out yourself, Hansy, old boy;" and here the talk had to come to an end. By the middle of the afternoon they came in sight of Bass Lake, a beautiful sheet of water about two miles and a half long by nearly half a mile wide. Close to the south shore lay Pine Island, so called because it was covered in spots with tall pine trees. Between the main shore and Pine Island were two smaller islands, and there were low wooden bridges from one to the other, connecting the big island with the mainland. The wagons had already gone over the bridges to the spot selected for the camp, and now the battalion marched across, from island to island, under low arching trees and over ground covered with fallen leaves and moss. "What a grand spot for a camp!" It was Dick who uttered the words when the final halt was made. His words were true, and his fellow students agreed with him that Captain Putnam could not have made a better selection. There was an open space nearly an acre in extent, covered with short grass and sloping slightly toward the lake. At the water's edge was a small wooden dock, where the boats were tied up, and next to this a sandy strip excellent for bathing purposes. Back of the open space was a fine grove of trees, to which the students could retire when the sun became too hot for them. More trees lined the north shore, some hanging out far over the water, making ideal spots for reading or fishing. There were beautiful walks through the woods, and in the center of the island was a rocky hill from the top of which one could obtain a view of the country for several miles around. Captain Putnam insisted upon it that the camp be laid out in true military fashion, and two students who knew a little about civil engineering put down the necessary stakes. There was a street for each company, with a tent for the captain and his lieutenants at the head. Each tent was of the wall pattern and large enough to accommodate four soldiers. That the flooring of the tent might be kept dry around each a trench was dug, by which the water could run off when it rained. On the bottom pine boughs were strewn, giving a delicious smell to the interior. "This smell of pine is very good for a cold in the head," said Major Larry to Dick. "My sister always uses a pillow filled with pine needles for that purpose." The students worked hard that evening getting their tents ready for occupancy and as a consequence all were glad to retire when the proper time came. Captain Putnam had expected that there would be some skylarking, but he was mistaken. That was to come later--when the lads felt more rested. CHAPTER XVI THE FIRST DAY ON PINE ISLAND "Can anybody tell me where the--er--looking glass is"? It was William Philander Tubbs who asked the question. He stood in the middle of one of the tents, gazing helplessly about him. "Beastly way to live, really now it is," he continued. "How is a fellow to arrange his toilet without a glass"? "Better run down to the lake and look into the water," suggested Sam, who occupied a cot in the tent. "Look into the water? Beastly!" murmured Tubbs. "Really now, this isn't like home, is it"? he continued. "It suits me well enough," went on Sam, leaping up and beginning to dress. "You'll get used to it before long." "Never, my dear boy, never!" As Tubbs spoke he began to put on his coat, but failed to get either of his hands further than the elbows of the sleeves. "What's the matter with this coat"? he ejaculated. "Well, I declare!" "What's up now"? asked another cadet. "Somebody has gone and sewed up the sleeves." There was a roar of laughter at this. "Mustn't mind a little thing like that," said Sam, and he sat down on the edge of his cot to put on his shoes. "Great Scott, what's this"? He had forced his foot into one shoe and now withdrew it covered with soft soap. "Haw! haw!" roared Tubbs. "Rather fancy the laugh is on you now, Rover." "That's a fact," muttered Sam, and began to clean out the shoe as quickly as he could. Several other small jokes had been played, showing that the cadets were "tuning up," as Major Larry expressed it. "I guess I'll have my hands full before the week is out," he said to Dick, in private. "Keeping order will be no fool of a job." "Well, you must remember that you liked to have your fling too, when you were a private, major," answered the captain of Company A. The cooking detail were already preparing breakfast and the aroma of hot coffee floated throughout the camp. Immediately after roll-call breakfast was served, of fruit, fish, eggs, bread, and coffee, and the cadets pitched in with a will. "Gives one an appetite to live out in the open," said Lieutenant Tom. "As if you didn't carry your appetite with you wherever you go," grinned Sam. "Silence, Private Rover, or I'll fine you half a day's pay," flung back Tom with a similar grin. "My, but we are some pumpkins," went on Sam, squaring his shoulders. "Wonder how soon we'll get to be a general." "Perhaps at the next general election," suggested George Granbury. "Lieutenant Granbury is fined a peanut for punning," said Tom severely. "Don't do it again and the fine will be remitted." "That's a fine way to do," murmured George, and then Sam shied a tin plate at him. As soon as the meal was over there was a drill lasting half an hour, and then the cadets were permitted to do as they pleased until noon. Some went boating, some fishing, while others took a swim, or simply "knocked around" as Sam expressed it. "I shouldn't mind a swim," said Tom. "Who will go in with me"? A dozen cadets were willing, including Dick, Larry, and Fred Garrison. As it was off time, Larry, even though major, did not feel it necessary to "stand on his dignity." "I'm just going to be as I've always been," he told the others. "If I can't be that, I don't want to be major." Several tents had been erected close to the water's edge, where the cadets might undress and don their bathing suits. Tom was the first ready, and with a run he plunged into the lake head-first. "It's glorious!" he shouted, as he came up and shook the water from his head. "Worth a dollar a minute. Come on in!" And they came, one after another, without loss of more time. The water was slightly cool, but the students at Putnam Hall were required to take cold baths weekly, so they did not mind the temperature. Laughing and shouting gleefully they dove around in all directions, and then Tom suggested a race. "Just the thing!" said another cadet. "Where shall we race to"? "Over to yonder rock and back," answered Tom. "Line up, everybody. A stale biscuit to the winner and a sour cream puff for the last man. All ready"? There was a pause. "Start!" yelled Tom, and made a wild splash that sent the water flying in all directions. "A race! A race!" shouted one of the students on the shore, and his cry soon brought a score or more of the others to the spot. "I think Tom Rover will win that race." "I'll bet on Major Larry." "Fred Garrison is ahead. He's the best swimmer in the school." "He can't swim as well as Dick Rover." "I'll bet Jackson wins," came from Lew Flapp, who was in the crowd on the beach. Jackson, it will be remembered, was one of his particular cronies. "Jackson can't swim against Dick Rover," came from Songbird Powell, who had hardly spoken to Flapp since the row at Mike Sherry's resort. "I'll bet you a dollar he beats Rover," replied the tall boy, in a low tone. "I don't bet, Flapp." "You're afraid to bet," sneered the tall boy. This statement angered Powell and he quickly dove into his pocket and pulled out the sum mentioned. "This is the time you lose, Flapp," he said quietly. Another student was made stakeholder and each boy passed over his money. By this time the race was well underway. Tom was still in the lead, but Jackson was close behind him, with Larry Colby third and Dick fourth. "Go it, Tom, you are sure to win!" shouted one of his friends. "Don't know about that," Tom returned pantingly. "Guess I started too hard!" And soon he began to drop behind. "Jackson is ahead!" was the next cry. "Major Colby is a close second!" "That is true, but Dick Rover is crawling up!" So the cries went on until the big rock that was the turning point was gained. Jackson touched the rock first, several seconds before either Larry or Dick came up. It certainly looked as if Lew Flapp's crony had a good chance of winning. "Told you he would win," said Flapp to Powell. "The race isn't over yet," answered Songbird briefly. "Humph! Do you think Dick Rover can catch Jackson when he is five yards behind"? "Not quite as much as that, Flapp, and he is gradually crawling up." "He won't make it, I tell you." "Perhaps he will." "I'll bet you five to one that he won't," insisted the big boy. "I won't bet any more." "You're afraid," sneered Flapp. Again Powell went down into his pocket and drew forth another dollar. "There you are," he said to the stakeholder. Lew Flapp had not expected this, but he quickly covered the one dollar with a five, feeling sure he was going to win. "You'll never see your two dollars again, Powell," he said. "Perhaps you'll never see your six again," answered Songbird, and moved away to watch the race from another point along the island shore. Jackson was certainly swimming well, although the terrific strain was beginning to tell upon him. "Go it, Jackson," roared Lew Flapp. "Go it, old Moneybags!" "Moneybags" was a signal among many of the cadets, signifying that the speaker had bet money on the result. Betting at the academy was strictly prohibited, but wagers were often made on the sly. Hearing this cry, Jackson renewed his struggles and for a few seconds held his lead. But now Dick Rover was crawling up inch by inch. He had passed Tom, who was left hopelessly in the rear, and now he was pressing Larry. "The major and the captain are tie!" "See, Captain Rover is crawling ahead!" "Swim, Jackson, swim!" yelled Lew Flapp frantically. "You must win!" And Pender took up the call, and so did Rockley. Again Jackson did his best. The finish of the race was now but twenty yards off. "Go in and win, Dick," came from Larry Colby. "I'm about used up," and he let Dick go ahead. Dick was almost as fresh as at the start and slowly but surely he kept gaining upon Jackson until the two were not over two yards apart. "Hurrah, Captain Rover is crawling up!" "Don't give up, Jackson, you can win out yet!" screamed Lew Flapp. "Go it, Dick!" yelled Sam. "Go it, I say! The race is yours!" Cheered by the last cry Dick increased his stroke and in a second more he was alongside of Jackson. The latter made a side kick, intending to catch Dick in the stomach, but the eldest Rover was wise enough to keep out of his opponent's reach. The kick made Jackson lose ground, and like a flash Dick passed him. "Dick Rover is ahead!" "See, Jackson is played out! He can hardly take another stroke!" "Major Colby is crawling up! See, he is passing Jackson!" "And here comes Tom Rover, too." "Wake up, Tom!" cried Sam. "You can beat Jackson yet!" At this cry Tom did wake up, and seeing Jackson floundering around put on a final spurt and passed him. "Dick Rover has won the race!" "And Major Colby is second, and Tom Rover third." "Poor Jackson wasn't in it, after all!" CHAPTER XVII THE ENEMY PLOT MISCHIEF The most disgusted cadet on Pine Island was Lew Flapp, and when Jackson walked out of the water and entered one of the bath-tents he followed his crony with a face full of bitterness. "Why didn't you try to keep up and win out"? he asked bitterly, while Jackson was dressing. "I did try. But Rover came up like a steam engine." "You seemed to play out all in a minute." "And that is just what I did do. The pace was too hot for me, and I just about collapsed. Those fellows are good swimmers, no two ways about that." "Bah! I could have beaten them with ease." "I'd like to see you do it." "Do you know I lost six dollars on that race," went on Flapp, after a pause. "Who won the money"? "Songbird Powell." "How did you come to put up such an odd figure, Lew"? "I bet a dollar even first, and then, when I felt certain you would win, I gave him odds of five to one. I was a chump." "Well, I did my best--honestly I did," returned Jackson, who hated to have his crony lose. "I ought to make you pay me back." "I'd do it if I had the money," said Jackson. He rarely had money in his pocket, spending everything as fast as received. "Well, that is one more we owe that crowd," observed Flapp with increased bitterness. When Jackson was dressed he and Flapp took themselves to another part of the camp, and there met Pender, Rockley, and Ben Hurdy. "Let us take a walk," said Jackson. "I am sick of staying around where the others can stare at me." "Come with me," put in Pender. "I have found something I want to show you." "A gold mine, perhaps," said Flapp. "I need one just now. Betting on Jackson nearly cleaned me out." "It's no gold mine, but it may prove useful to us," answered the other cadet. The crowd started off, and Pender led the way through the woods and partly around the rocky hill in the center of the island. "I ran into it quite by accident," he said. "You'd never suspect it was there unless you knew of it." "Knew of what?" asked Rockley. "What sort of a mystery are you running us into now?" "Just wait and see." Pender stepped from the path they had been pursuing and pushed aside some overhanging bushes. Beyond was a small clearing, backed up by a high, rocky wall. In the wall was an opening, blocked up by a heavy door secured by a rusty iron chain that was passed through a ring in the rocks. "Well, this is certainly odd," exclaimed Flapp. "What kind of a place is it"? "It's a den of some sort," said Hurdy. "Maybe some counterfeiters belong here." "Bosh, you talk as if you were in a dime novel," came from Jackson. "More than likely some old hermit lived here. When some men get queer in the head they come to just such a spot as this to end their days. They hate the sight of other human beings." "I reckon it is a hermit's den," said Pender. "But if so the hermit left it years ago, for everything inside is covered with dust and cobwebs and mildew." Pender walked up to the stout wooden door, unfastened the iron chain, and threw the barrier back. One after the other the boys entered the opening beyond. At first they could see but little, but gradually their eyes became accustomed to the gloom and they made out a rocky chamber about twelve feet wide and running back in irregular shape for a hundred feet or more. At some points the ceiling was so low they had to stoop, while elsewhere it was far above their reach. The flooring was fairly level, with rock in some places and hard dirt in others. The opening was rudely furnished with a heavy table and a bench, and close to one wall was a box bed, still filled with pine boughs. On a big wooden hook hung a man's coat, so decayed that it began to fall apart when they touched it. The table contained several tin cups and plates, all rust eaten. "This is certainly a curious find," said Flapp. "How did you happen to hit it, Gus?" "I was exploring the cliff above when I happened to slip and fall into the bushes just in front of the door. I was shook up but not hurt, and when I got up I saw the door and wondered what it meant. Then I looked inside and after that went back to camp to tell you fellows about it." "It will make a dandy place for secret meetings," suggested Rockley. "We can come here and do what we please." "Just what I thought," said Pender. "We can smuggle no end of good things here from the nearest village and come whenever we have our off time." "Perhaps we can do more than that," said Flapp, struck with a sudden idea. "What"? asked the others. "I'll tell you some other time. It's a great find," continued the tall boy. In the meantime those left at the camp had surrounded Dick and were congratulating him on his victory. "I knew you would win," said Powell, when the excitement was over. "I bet with Lew Flapp on the result. Garling was stakeholder." "What did you win, Songbird"? "Six dollars." "Gracious! You went in pretty deep.' "Flapp called me a coward when I told him I didn't want to bet, so I had to take him up," went on Songbird. "Had it been anybody else I might have given the money back. But I won't give it back to that bully." "It's against the rules to bet, Songbird." "But you are not going to tell on me, are you?" "You know me better than to ask the question. Just the same, I am sorry you bet," said Dick. "I'm going to treat the boys as soon as I get the chance," went on Powell. "Six dollars will buy a whole lot of ice cream and cake, not to mention soda and candy and peanuts." And then he began to hum to himself: "Peanuts and candy and raspberry ice, Chocolate cake, and all that's nice, Ev'ry student can come if he will, And ev'ry student can eat his fill!" "I believe you'd sing at a funeral," said Dick, laughing. "I wouldn't sing at my own funeral," answered Powell, and stalked off, humming as gayly as ever. The remainder of the day passed quietly enough, although by the whispering in various tents it was easy to see that something unusual was in the air. "Hazing to-night, as sure as guns," said Major Larry to one of the officers. "Shall we arrest the hazers"? asked the officer, with a twinkle in his eye. "You must obey orders," answered the youthful major, non-committally, since he had given no orders on the subject. He could well remember his first year in camp, when he had been dragged from his cot at midnight, almost stripped, and thrown into a brook of icy spring water, and then made to run over a rough road in his bare feet for half a mile, "just to warm up," as the hazers told him. It was rough sport, not to be approved, but "boys will be boys," and it is practically impossible to stop hazing even in the highest of our institutions of learning. It was poor Hans Mueller who was the first to suffer that night. In the midst of the darkness, for there was no moon, Hans found himself suddenly aroused from his slumbers by being dragged out of his cot by the feet. "Shtop!" he began, when a hand was thrust over his mouth. Then he was raised up by six cadets, shoved out of the back of the tent and carried away to the grove in the rear of the camp. The party had to pass two sentries, but the sentries were evidently posted, for they appeared to see nothing wrong. Hans was not allowed to speak until he was out of hearing distance of the camp. Then he was dumped on the ground with a dull thud. "Mine cracious! vot does dis mean annahow"? he demanded, as he struggled to his feet. "Does you vants to kill me alretty, drowing me aroundt like a log of vood, hey"? There was no answer, and now he looked at the cadets, to discover that each wore a black mask, with a hood from which two black horns protruded. "Who you vos alretty"? he spluttered, staring in open-mouthed amazement at the party. "You vos all look like der Oldt Boy, ain't it! I guess I go me back to der camp kvick!" and he started to run. Hans did not get far, for a foot send him sprawling, and by the time he was again on his feet four masked cadets had him by the hands and arms, so that he could not get away. He started to yell when of a sudden somebody threw a handful of dry flour into his wide open mouth. "Wuog!" he gasped. "Wuog! Do--you--wants--to choke me alretty!" And then he started to sneeze, as some of the flour entered his nose. There was a moment of silence and then one of the masked figures advanced slowly. "Hans Mueller, are you prepared to meet your doom"? was the question put, in a deep bass voice. "Doom? Vot's dot?" asked the German boy, slightly frightened. "Are you prepared to die?" "Die? Not by a jugful I ain't. You let me go!" "Are you prepared to become a full-fledged member of the Order of Black Skulls." "Not much, I ton't belong to noddings," gasped Hans. "Then you must prepare to meet your fate. Away with him, fellows, to his doom!" Before Hans could resist he was caught up once again. One of the cadets had brought with him a large blanket and into this the German youth was thrown. Then the others caught the blanket around the edges. "Stop!" roared Hans, and tried to climb out of the blanket. But before he could manage it, the thing was given a toss and up he went, high into the air. "Oh! Mine cracious!" he gasped and came down with a crash, to go up again an instant later. Then up and down went the boy, turning over and over, until he was all but dazed. "Stop! Murder! Fire! Robbers!" he roared. "Let me owid, kvick! I vos turning outsides in alretty! Oh, stop, von't you, blease!" "Will you join the Order of Black Skulls"? he was asked again. "_Yah, yah!_ Anydings, so long as you lets me town kvick!" "And you will not breathe a word about what has taken place here"? "I say me noddings, upon my honor, ain't it!" "Then let him go, fellows," and a moment later Hans was lowered. "Now you are one of us," said another student, and handed him a mask, skull-cap and pair of horns, the latter made of stuffed black cloth. "Do you promise to help us"? "Anydings vot you vonts." "Then come with us, and don't dare to open your mouth." CHAPTER XVIII HAZERS AT WORK William Philander Tubbs was dreaming of a fashionable dance he had once enjoyed when he suddenly found himself bound and gagged and being carried he knew not where. "This is awful!" he thought. "What in the world does it mean?" Then he remembered that some of the cadets had spoken about hazing, and the cold perspiration came out on his forehead. The gag in his mouth was made of nothing more than a knot in a clean towel, but it worried him a good deal and he was afraid he would be choked to death by it. But nothing of the sort happened, and soon the gag was removed. "What does this mean?" he asked, as many cadets had done before him. He received no answer, and tried to break away from his tormentors. But their hold on him could not be shaken, and before he was set down he found himself well out of sight and hearing of Camp Putnam, as the spot had been named. "This is a beastly shame," he murmured. "Why do you dare to break into my night's rest in this fashion?" He had heard of the mysterious society of Black Skulls before, but so far had never been hazed by the members. He looked curiously at the masked cadets, wondering if he could recognize any of them. "Are you prepared to meet your doom?" he was asked. "I am prepared to go back to my tent," he answered. "Away with him!" was the cry. "Where are you going to take me?" he asked anxiously. There was no reply, but in a twinkling his hands were caught and bound tightly behind him, and a bag was thrust over his head and fastened around his throat. The bag was so thick that he could not see a thing before him. "Let him take the cold water cure," said a voice, and he was forced to move forward. "It's rather deep there," whispered a voice, just loud enough for him to hear. "Not over his waist," whispered another voice. "What! It's twice over his head," was the answer. "I tested the water this afternoon." "Never mind, he's got to take the test anyway." Now Tubbs was by no means a good swimmer, and the idea of being thrown into the water with his hands tied behind him and his head in a sack was frightful in the extreme. "Le--let me go!" he whined. "Let me go, I say!" "Forward with him!" was the heartless reply, and he was pushed on until he suddenly found himself in water up to his ankles. "Stop! stop!" he cried, in a muffled voice. "Stop! I don't want to drown!" "Will you obey your superiors?" "Yes, yes--anything!" "Will you join the Order of Black Skulls?" "Anything, I told you, only don't let me drown!" cried the frightened William Philander. "And will you promise to keep mum about what has happened here to-night?" "Yes, yes!" "Very well, you shall not be allowed to drown. But you must take the plunge." "Oh, dear me! I can't--" "Forward, and be lively about it. We will fish you out with a crab net." "But I--I can't swim with my hands tied behind me!" chattered poor Tubbs. "Yes, you can. Forward now! Ha, fellows, he will not go. Jab him with the pitchfork!" At this a student stepped behind Tubbs and pricked his back with a pin. The fashionable youth let out a yell of terror, and then, certain that he was about to take an awful plunge into some deep part of the lake, made a desperate leap forward. A wild shriek of laughter rang out as Tubbs made the leap. He had jumped across a narrow brook not six inches deep and landed sprawling on the grass beyond. "You are now initiated," said one of the masked cadets, when the laughter had somewhat died away. And at once Tubbs' hands were untied and the bag was taken from his head. "Well, I never!" he murmured, as he gazed in amazement at the brook. "Thought it was the lake front sure!" "As you are now one of us, Tubbs, you must wear these," said a cadet, and furnished the fashionable youth with a mask, cap, and pair of horns. "We have now disposed of number two," said another cadet. "What of number three?" "Number three must--" At that moment a gun-shot rang out on the still night air. "Hullo, something is wrong!" cried one of the hazers, in quick alarm. "There goes the drum, fellows!" came in the unmistakable voice of Sam Rover. "We've got to hustle back to camp or we'll be exposed!" "Right you are," came from Songbird Powell. "Come, fellows, and mind you don't let anybody see the masks and other things." And away they scooted, under the trees and then along a row of bushes running fairly close to the first line of tents. In the meantime the drum continued to roll and the whole camp was astir. Captain Putnam himself was out and was soon followed by Major Larry and Captain Fred Garrison. Dick Rover knew what was up and took his time about showing himself, since he did not wish any of the hazers to be captured. "Call the roll!" said Major Larry, after making a round of the company streets. But he himself was in no particular hurry. Almost out of breath with running, the hazers came into camp, accompanied by Hans and Tubbs. Masks, caps, and horns were pushed out of sight under cots, and then all sallied forth to join their various commands. Calling the roll was already in progress. "All present or accounted for," came the declaration, five minutes later. "All present, eh?" mused Captain Putnam. "That's queer. Who fired that gun?" "Private Jackson." "I will interview Jackson," said the master of the school, and he ordered Jackson to his private tent. "What made you raise the alarm, Jackson?" he questioned sharply. "I thought some of the cadets were out of camp, sir," was the answer. "Did you see them go?" "Not exactly, sir, but I thought I saw three or four of them sneaking along near the woods." "Humph! You should be sure of what you are doing, Jackson. It is not commendable to arouse the whole camp at midnight for nothing." "Well, I thought I was sure," insisted the crestfallen cadet. He knew for a certainty that some of the cadets had been out but saw no way to prove it. "In the future be more careful while on guard duty," said Captain Putnam coldly; and there the subject was dropped. "Who fired that shot?" asked Sam, on the morning following the hazing. "Jackson," replied a cadet named Gilson, who had been one of the hazers. "The sneak!" murmured the youngest Rover. "That's what I say, Rover." "Guess he did it to get square for losing that swimming race," put in another of the hazers. "More than likely. We ought to square up with him for it." "That's the talk." "Vat's der madder mit tossing him a blanket up?" asked Hans earnestly. "Think that's a good way to get square, eh, Hans?" laughed Sam. "Dot's der vorst bunishments vot I know of," said the German boy with deep conviction. "Makes you feel like you vos going to preak abard alretty kvick!" All of the boys knew that it would not do to try any more hazing for the next few nights. Even if the guards gave no alarm, Captain Putnam or one of the teachers might be on the watch to catch them. On the following day it rained and the majority of the cadets were glad enough to remain under shelter. A few went bathing or fishing and the latter brought in quite a respectable mess of fish. Even in fishing the boys were rivals and a new tin cup was voted to the cadet bringing in the string that weighed the most. The rain began about ten o'clock and by noon the water was coming down in torrents. "This is beautiful," remarked Tom, as he looked at the puddle in the company's street. "We ought to have dug another ditch to let that water run off," remarked Dick. "Well, nobody wants to go out now and dig." "That is true." Instead of abating the rain became more violent as the afternoon advanced. "This looks as if we were going to have some wind." remarked Major Larry with a doubtful shake of his head. "I hope it doesn't blow too heavily," said Captain Putnam. "Don't you think I had better caution the fellows to pin down their tents extra hard?" "It would do no harm, Major Colby." "Then I'll do it," said Larry, and issued the order without delay. Some of the cadets grumbled at being driven out into the wet, but the majority knew they were doing the work for their own good and went at it without a murmur. At about sundown the wind fell and after supper it was as calm as it had been before the storm started. "Told you there wasn't any use of getting wet pounding down stakes," growled Lew Flapp. He had done his work in a slip-shod fashion, staying out but a minute or two for that purpose. It still rained, so building camp-fires was out of the question. This being so, the cadets turned in early, glad to seek the shelter of their cots and their warm blankets. An hour went by, when of a sudden the rain increased once more. Then came a rush of wind that shook all of the tents violently. "We are not out of it yet, it would seem," said Dick, as he sat up on his cot to listen to the flapping of the canvas in the company street. He had hardly spoken when another gust of wind tore down on the camp. There was a ripping of cloth and a crashing of poles, and then a cry for help sounded from several places at once. CHAPTER XIX A STORM IN CAMP "Say, fellows, are we all going up in a balloon!" cried Sam Rover, as he rolled off his cot in a great hurry. One whole side of the tent was loose and the structure was in danger of tumbling down on the inmates' heads. "Help!" came from the next tent. "I'm being smothered!" "That's Lew Flapp!" said a cadet. "What's up now, Flapp?" he called out. No answer came back, and now canvases could be heard ripping in all directions. "Fasten down the pegs!" came the order. "Fasten them down, quick!" The cadets were already at work, and Sam and his tent-mates set at their task with a will, realizing that every moment was precious. While one student held the peg upright the other would pound it down into the wet ground with a hammer or the back of a spade. "The confounded pegs won't hold," cried out one cadet. "There she goes!" and the next instant the tent went flying skyward, to land on another tent some distance away. It was still raining "cats, dogs, and hammer handles" as Tom Rover expressed it. All was dark, the only light being that given forth by the lantern which had not been blown out. Occasionally came a flash of lightning, followed by the distant rolling of thunder. "This is one of the real comforts of camp life," said Songbird Powell sarcastically. "So much nicer than being under the roof of the Hall, you know!" "Never mind, Songbird, you need a washing off at least once a year," replied a fellow sufferer. A minute later came another yell from Lew Flapp. He and his tent-mates had tried in vain to hold down their canvas. Now it went up with a rush. One of the peg ropes caught around Flapp's leg and he was dragged over the wet ground, with his head splashing into every pool of water that he passed. "Help me! I'll be killed!" roared the tall youth. The tent was blowing along the company street and half a dozen cadets ran to the rescue, Tom with them. Some leaped on the canvas, while others held Flapp. Then the rope was cut with a knife. "Wha--what a fearful wind!" groaned the tall boy, when he could speak. "This is the worst storm I ever saw!" "Oh, but I'm sorry I ever came to camp," groaned William Philander Tubbs. "I'm so wet the water is actually running out of my shoetops!" "Ton't said a vord," came from Hans. "I dink me I half a rifer floating mine packpone town alretty! Of dis keeps on much longer der whole camp vos in der schwim, ain't it!" "I reckon we're in the swim already," broke in Sam. "Some of us had better bring the rowboats up." The high wind lasted for fully half an hour and during that time six of the tents were literally blown to ribbons, while many others suffered to a lesser extent. A quarter of the shelters laid flat in the mud, and nothing could be done with these until the wind went down. "It's the worst blow I have seen since we have held our encampments," was Captain Putnam's comment, and he and the teachers went around with lanterns to aid the students as much as they could. By three o'clock in the morning the storm was over and the stars began to peep forth from behind the clouds. As tired as they were the cadets had to set to work to put up the tents and arrange their cots as best they could. Camp-fires were lit in half a dozen places and the students huddled around these to dry themselves and get warm. "I guess this is a touch of real army life," said Dick. "And I must say I don't like it overly much." "We'll have to make the best of it, Dick," answered Tom, who had come over to see how his brother was getting along. "How is Sam?" "Oh, he's all right, although as wet as any of us." "This storm reminds me of the one we experienced when in the jungles of Africa," went on the eldest Rover. "Do you remember how it blew, Tom?" "Indeed I do," was the answer, as Tom's mind went back to that thrilling experience, as related in "The Rover Boys in the Jungle." On the following day the cadets were glad enough to remain in camp, cleaning out their tents and drying the things that had become wet. But the storm was a thing of the past and the sun shone as brightly as ever. Big fires were kept burning, and hot coffee could be had whenever wanted, so scarcely anybody suffered from the drenching received. The storm had somewhat disarranged the plans made by Flapp, Rockley, and their particular cronies. But two days later Flapp, Rockley, and Pender got permission to go to the village of Oakville, two miles distant, one to buy some corn salve he said he wanted and the others to do a little trading. The boys had collected nine dollars from various members of their crowd and this was to be spent for liquor, cigars, and for several packs of cards. All of these things were to be smuggled to the hermit's den Pender had discovered. "We can get enough to last us during the encampment," said Flapp. "And then we can have a good time whenever we wish, and Captain Putnam will never suspect what is going on." It did not take the cadets long to reach Oakville, a pretty place located among the hills. There were a dozen stores, a blacksmith shop, two churches, and perhaps fifty houses. Beyond were farms in a state of high cultivation, showing that the inhabitants of that section were thrifty people. "This town is about as slow as Cedarville," observed Pender, as they walked up the single street. "How folks can idle their lives away in such a place is what gets me." "They don't know anything of the joys of city life," returned Flapp. "Some of these people have never seen the inside of a real theater." As might be expected, the unworthy cadets lost no time in entering one of the taverns located in Oakville, and here Flapp treated. Then, after cigars or cigarettes had been lit, they proceeded to buy the things desired for the den. "Laying in quite a stock, ain't ye?" said the tavern keeper. "Oh, we are getting this for the whole crowd," replied Pender carelessly. "But, say," he added suddenly. "What is it?" "We don't want you to say anything about our buying this stuff." "All right, I'll be mum," answered the tavern keeper. From the tavern they proceeded to the general store, where they purchased the packs of cards and a few other things. While they were making their purchases two girls came in with a market basket between them. One was tall and thin and the other short and rather stout. Yet the girls looked very much alike and were noticeably pretty. "Fine girls," whispered Flapp to Rockley, nudging his companion in the ribs. "Yes," was the answer, and Rockley began to smile openly on the new arrivals. As the girls did not appear to notice this, he drew closer and tipped his cap. "Fine day after the storm," he said smoothly. "Yes, very," said the taller of the girls, and turned away. "I suppose you belong in Oakville," put in Lew Flapp, to the smaller girl. "Yes," answered the girl, and turned away to join her companion. "We are up to the camp on Pine Island," went on Rockley, following the girls up. "Have you ever been there?" "Once," said the taller girl, and began to purchase some articles from the clerk behind the counter. "You ought to come and take a look at our camp," continued Flapp. "It's a real interesting sight." "All the girls are welcome," said Pender, feeling he must say something. "We'd be willing to show you the way at any time," added Rockley, and placed his hand on the arm of one of the girls. "Please let me be," said the girl, and walked away. A moment later she left the store, and her companion went with her. "My, but they were shy!" laughed Pender. "Rockley, you didn't make any impression at all. Nor you either, Flapp." "Humph! Wonder who they are?" murmured Lew Flapp. "Let's ask the storekeeper and find out." "Those girls are twins," said the proprietor of the establishment. "Twins!" cried Rockley. "They didn't look it--not by their difference in sizes." "But they did in looks," said Pender. "What are their names?" "The tall one is Alice Staton and the other is Helen Staton. Their father is the local constable, although he runs a big farm for a living." "Do they come here often?" "Pretty often. But they are very shy girls and don't hardly speak to anybody. They are both studying to be school-teachers." In the meantime Helen Staton and her sister Alice were hurrying down the main street of Oakville with flushed cheeks. "I don't think those cadets were very nice," said Helen. "Certainly they were not very good-looking," replied Alice. "And I thought they smelt a little of liquor." "The idea of their saying they would show us the way to the camp! I guess papa can drive us there if we want to go." "I'd like to see it. But I shouldn't want to go with those boys," went on Alice. "Perhaps papa can take us," said Helen. "But come, we promised mamma we'd hurry back as soon as we could." To get home the two girls had to walk for a considerable distance along the road leading to Bass Lake. On the way they passed the farm of one Isaac Klem, a man who took great pride in his poultry and his cattle. Klem had forty cows, and two bulls which were worth a good deal of money. One of the bulls, a black, vicious looking fellow, was tied up in a small lot at the corner of the farm. The girls were just walking past this lot when Helen happened to glance over her shoulder and set up a cry of alarm. "Oh, Alice, Mr. Klem's black bull is loose!" "Where, Helen?" queried her twin sister. "There he is, at the fence. See, he is trying to get over!" The fence she mentioned was of stones piled loosely, one on top of the other. The bull was striking at the stones with his front hoofs. Soon some came down, and then the animal leaped out into the roadway. Then he gave a snort and looked at the girls curiously. Now as ill luck would have it, each of the twins wore a red shirt-waist. This color enraged the bull, and with a wild snort, he lowered his horns and rushed at the pair, as if to gore them through and through. CHAPTER XX THE ROVER BOYS AND THE BULL About an hour after Lew Flapp and his cronies left camp, Dick Rover and his brothers received permission to do likewise. "Let us go to the village," suggested Tom. "I want to buy some cough drops. My throat is raw from the wet weather." "And I want to get some reading matter," added Sam. "A good story of some sort would just suit me." "I wouldn't mind a magazine or two myself," came from Dick. "But I don't know if Oakville can supply them." They were soon on the way, each in the best of spirits. Tom began to whistle and his brothers joined in. "Feelin' putty good," queried a farmer, who chanced to be leaning over his garden gate as they passed. "Why not?" retorted Tom. "It's better to whistle than to cry." "Right you are, young man. When one of my hands is whistling I always know he is pitchin' in." The way lay over a hill and around a bend where a number of apple trees lined the road. The apples were within easy reach, and soon each was chewing on the juicy fruit to his heart's content. "Wonder where Flapp and his crowd went," came presently from Tom. "If they went to Oakville they most likely visited the tavern," answered Dick. "It's a shame!" declared Tom. "Drinking and smoking and playing cards will never do them any good." Another bend in the road was passed and they came within sight of Isaac Klem's farm. "Hullo!" ejaculated Sam, pointing ahead. "What's the matter?" "Those girls are running for all they are worth!" said Dick. "A bull is after them!" came from Tom. "My stars! but he seems to mean business!" Tom was right, Helen and Alice Staton were running along the highway at all the speed they could command. Behind them, less than fifty feet distant, was the enraged black bull, bent on doing all the mischief possible. "Those girls will be hurt!" said Dick, running forward. "Can't we do something?" asked Sam. "We can try," said Tom. "Get a rock, or something," and he picked up a sharp stone which lay handy. Sam did likewise. By this time the twins were almost upon the boys. "Chase the bull away!" panted Helen, who was ready to drop from exhaustion. "Yes! yes!" gasped Alice. "Please don't let him touch us!" "Jump the fence!" said Dick. "Quick, I'll help you over!" He caught each girl by the hand and turned toward the low stone fence. At the same time Tom and Sam let fly the two sharp stones. One took the bull in the nose and the other struck the creature in the eye. With a snort the animal came to a halt and viewed the boys curiously. He had evidently not expected the attack, and the wound in the eye hurt not a little. Tom and Sam lost no time in providing themselves with more stones. By this time Dick was at the wall and in another moment he had assisted the girls over. Both had lost their hats and also dropped the market basket filled with things from the store. "Oh, be careful," said Alice. "That bull will try to kill you." "We'll look out for ourselves," answered Dick, and picked up a bit of fence rail lying near. "Did he chase you far?" "From that lot yonder," answered Helen. The bull had turned toward the fence, and watching his chance, Dick struck out with the bit of rail. His aim was good and the animal received a sharp blow directly across the nostrils. Then Sam and Tom let fly more stones, and the bull was hit in the mouth, the leg, and the side. He stood his ground for a moment and then began to retreat. "Hurrah! we've got him on the run!" cried Tom. "Give it to him!" and he let go another stone, which hit the bull in the tail and made him throw up his rear hoofs in a most alarming fashion. "You had better come over into the lot!" said one of the girls. "He may come back." "Here comes Mr. Klem with a pitchfork," said the other. A farmer was rushing down the road, with a pitchfork in one hand and a rope in the other. He ran up to the bull and slipped the rope over the animal's neck. Then he tied the creature to a tree. "Pretty savage animal you've got," observed Tom as he came up. "Is them gals hurt?" demanded the farmer. "I don't think so. But they are pretty well out of breath and scared." "Don't know how the pesky critter got loose," said Isaac Klem. "First thing I see he was after them gals lickety-split. I was out hayin', and I didn't wait, but picked up a pitchfork and a rope and run." "The girls lost their hats," said Sam, who had also come up. "Yes, they're in the road up yonder, along with a basket o' stuff they had." "Let us get the things," said Sam, and he and Tom started after the hats and the basket. The things which had been in the basket were scattered in all directions, and the boys picked them up. Dick remained with the girls, doing what he could to quiet them. They were so exhausted they could not stand and each sat on a rock panting for breath. "It was simply dreadful!" declared Helen. "I thought every moment the bull would catch me and toss me up into the air." "He didn't like the sight of your red shirt-waists," was Dick's comment. "That must be it," put in Alice. "After this, I don't think I'll go near him when I have a red waist on." "Perhaps the farmer will be more careful and keep him roped up." When Tom and Sam came up with the hats and the basket Isaac Klem accompanied them. "All right, Helen?" he asked. "And you too, Alice?" "Yes, Mr. Klem," said the tall girl. "But it was a narrow escape. The bull would have gored us if it hadn't been for these young gentlemen." The girls thanked Tom and Sam for what they had brought. "Who be you young fellows?" asked Isaac Klem curiously. "I am Dick Rover, and these are my brothers Tom and Sam. We belong to the cadets of Putnam Hall." "The young sodgers up to Bass Lake?" "Yes." "I see. Well, it was gritty o' you to face my bull, and I give ye credit for it. My name's Isaac Klem, and thet's my farm over yonder. These gals is Helen and Alice Staton, and they live down the road a piece." The boys tipped their caps and the girls smiled. "We are very thankful to you," said Alice and Helen, almost in a breath. "You are welcome to the little I did," returned Dick. "It was fun to pelt the old bull with rocks," put in Tom. "I'll do as much for you any time," and this caused a laugh. Isaac Klem went off to drive his bull home and the girls also prepared to depart. "When you are coming back this way you can stop at our house if you wish," said Alice Staton. "It's the yellow one with honeysuckle growing over the porch." "I remember it," said Sam. "Thank you," and the others also gave thanks for the invitation. A moment later the two parties separated. "What a difference between those cadets and the ones we met at the store," said Helen to her twin sister when they were out of hearing. "Yes, indeed," said Alice. "The Rovers are gentlemen, while those at the store were--were rude." "Two nice girls," declared Tom. "How much alike their faces are!" "Tom is smitten," cried Sam. "Going to forget all about Nellie Laning, Tom?" he went on quizzically. "Oh, you needn't talk!" cried Tom, growing red in the face. "You were just as attentive as a dancing master yourself." "Don't quarrel about it," put in Dick good naturedly. "You can be pleasant to them without forgetting all about Grace and Nellie Laning, I think." "Or Dora Stanhope either," put in Sam slyly. "Shall we stop at the house on the way back?" "Why not? They may offer us a piece of pie," said Tom. "I don't know. We can walk by slowly. They may be on the lookout for us, you know." Once again the boys set their faces toward Oakville, and soon reached the outskirts of the town. They were passing some of the stores when Lew Flapp caught sight of them. "Hullo!" cried the tall boy. "I declare! there are the three Rover brothers. What brought them to Oakville?" "We had better not let them see us with this stuff," said Pender hurriedly. "We'll get into hot water if they do." They lost no time in putting their purchases out of sight. Then they walked out on the street and stood leaning against the posts of a wooden awning. "There is Flapp and his crowd now," said Tom, catching sight of the trio. "We want nothing to do with them," said Dick. "They are not our kind at all." "Hullo, Rovers!" cried Pender as they came up. "Hullo, yourself," returned Tom coldly. "What brought you to town?" asked Rockley. "My feet." "Thanks. I thought it might have been your ears. They're big enough." At this sally both Flapp and Pender began to laugh. "That's a good one," said Flapp. "I suppose you used your tongue for a walking stick when you came over," said Tom. "It's long enough." "Bah!" cried Rockley, and turned away in disgust. "Those Rover boys have got the swelled head," muttered Flapp. "But we'll turn 'em down before the encampment is over, eh, fellows?" "That's what," replied Rockley. While the Rover boys were making their purchases Lew Flapp and his cronies turned back into the tavern. There was a billiard room in the rear and here they began to play billiards. "We'll let the Rovers start for home first," said Rockley. "It will be safer." CHAPTER XXI A TUG OF WAR When the Rover boys reached the vicinity of the Staton cottage they found Alice and Helen in the dooryard, watching for them. "Mamma says you must come in," said Alice. "She wishes to see you." "And papa wants to see you, too," added Helen. "Thank you, we won't mind resting a bit," answered Dick. "The sun is rather hot." They were soon seated on the broad porch, and here Mrs. Staton and her husband were introduced. They proved to be nice people, and both thanked the boys warmly for what they had done on the road. "I've told Isaac Klem about that bull," said Mr. Staton. "Some day he'll do a whole lot of damage." "We are going to keep a good lookout for him in the future," put in Alice. "I don't wish to be scared out of my wits again." Before the boys left Mrs. Staton insisted on treating each to a piece of apple pie and a glass of milk. "What did I tell you about pie?" whispered Tom. "Say, but it's all right, isn't it?" "Yes, indeed!" whispered Sam. The girls had a set of croquet on the lawn and asked the boys to play, but they had to decline for want of time. All had moved to the rear of the cottage, under a wide-spreading tree, when Dick chanced to look toward the roadway and uttered an exclamation: "Here come the other fellows now!" "Yes, and look at the packages they are carrying," added Sam. "And the bottles," came from Tom significantly. Dick was about to step forward when Tom caught him by the arm. "Let us keep shady, Dick." "All right, Tom, if you say so." Sam noticed that the faces of the two girls fell when Flapp and his cronies went past. "Those are some of your chums, I suppose?" said Helen. "They are some of the cadets, but no chums of ours," replied Dick. "Oh!" "They belong to a little crowd of their own." explained Tom. "We don't hitch very well, so that is why we let them go by unnoticed." "We met them at the store in Oakville," said Alice. "Did they speak to you?" "Yes, but--but we did not want them to." "Humph!" said Dick, and then the subject was changed. Having invited the girls to come and look at the camp some pleasant day the Rover boys left the cottage and hurried along the road after Lew Flapp and his cronies. "I'll wager those fellows made themselves obnoxious to the girls," said Tom. "You could tell that by the way the girls looked." "What do you think they are going to do with the stuff they are carrying?" came from Sam. "I believe they intend to smuggle it into camp," replied Dick. "And if that is so, I don't know but what it is my duty to report them." "If you do that, Flapp will consider you the worst kind of a spy, Dick." "Perhaps, but as a captain of the command it is my duty to see that such things are kept out of camp." "Well, do what you think is best." "Better make sure that the stuff they are carrying isn't all right," said Sam. "They may have nothing but soda in those bottles." They hurried along faster than ever but, strange to say, failed to catch up to Lew Flapp and his cronies, who were making for the hermit's den with all possible speed. "Maybe they got scared, thinking we might be spying on them," suggested Tom, and hit upon the exact truth of the matter. After that nearly a week passed in camp without anything unusual happening. Lew Flapp and his cronies kept their distance, and so strict was the guard set by Captain Putnam and his assistants that hazing became, for the time being, out of the question. To pass the time more pleasantly some of the cadets organized several tug-of-war teams. This sort of thing pleased Tom very much and he readily consented to act as anchor man on one of the teams. Another team had Pender for an anchor man, with Rockley and seven others on the rope. "Let us have a regular contest," said one of the cadets, and all was arranged for a match on the following morning after drill. The students were enthusiastic over the match, some thinking one side would win and others favoring the opponents. "Tom's crowd will win that match," said Sam. "What makes you so sure?" questioned Ben Hurdy. "Oh, Tom knows how to pull and how to manage the others." "And so does Rockley know how to pull," continued Hurdy. "And what is more, he knows a trick or two that will pull your fellows over the line in no time." "I don't believe it, Hurdy." "Want to bet?" "No, I don't bet. Just the same, I think Rockley's crowd will lose." Although Sam would not bet, some of the other students did, so that by the time the match was to come off quite a sum was up. George Strong had been chosen as starter and umpire. On the green a line of white was laid down, and the team pulling the other over this line would be the winner. For the contest Captain Putnam provided a new rope of proper size. To each end was attached a belt for the anchor men, and there was ample room on each side of the line for the eight cadets on the rope. "All ready?" questioned George Strong, when the time had come for the contest. "All ready on this end," replied Tom, seeing to it that each of his team was in his proper position and had a proper hold on the rope. "All ready here," said Rockley, a few seconds later. "Drop!" cried the teacher, and down went the two teams like a flash, each pulling for all it knew how. But neither gained an inch at the fall, so the start-off was perfect. "Now pull for all you're worth, Rovers!" cried one cadet. "Haul 'em over, Rockleys!" cried another. "Steady, boys!" whispered Tom. "Don't get nervous. There is lots of time." He was almost flat on his back, with both feet braced firmly in the soil. Rockley was also down, and it looked as if it might be well-nigh impossible to budge either. "This is a dandy tug of war," said Fred Garrison. "Neither has got an inch of advantage." "The Rovers will beat!" "The Rockleys will win!" "I think it will be a tie," said another. The strain was terrific and soon each member of the two teams was bathed in perspiration. "Here is where you earn your rations!" cried one cadet, and this caused a general laugh. "Watch your chances, Tom," whispered Dick, and his brother nodded to show that he understood. Both sides were glaring at each other. The strain was beginning to tell, but so far nobody had thought of letting up in the least. But now Tom saw two of Rockley's men "getting their wind" as it is called. They still held on to the rope, but were hardly pulling at all. "Up!" cried Tom suddenly, and his men went up like a flash. "Down!" came the cry, an instant later, and down they went, before Rockley's men could recover. "Hurrah! the Rovers have gained four inches!" came the shout. And then those who favored that team set up a cheer. It was true, the rope had shifted over four inches. Rockley was angry, but could do nothing. "Mind yourselves, Wilson and Brady!" he whispered. "Don't let up a minute." "I didn't let up," growled Wilson. "It was Chambers." "Not much!" growled Chambers. "I wasn't--" "Up!" cried Tom again. "Down! Up! Pull, pull! pull! Down!" Up and down went the team twice, the second time hauling the rope forward over a foot. Then they went down once more and anchored as firmly as ever. "Good!" shouted Sam enthusiastically. "You're doing it, boys! Keep it up!" "Are they?" sneered Lew Flapp. "Just you wait and see." He had a little roll of paper in his hand, and watching his opportunity he blew the contents into the air, directly over the team led by Tom Rover. The paper contained pepper and it set several of Tom's men to sneezing. This trick had been arranged between Flapp and Rockley, the latter feeling certain that Tom and his followers could not sneeze and pull at the same time. "Up!" yelled Rockley. "Pull! pull! pull!" "Stay down!" roared Tom. "Down! Don't give in an inch!" But the cry could not be obeyed. Half the team was up and sneezing and before order could be restored the rope had gone over to the Rockleys' side a distance of two and a half feet. "Hurrah, the Rockleys are winning!" yelled Ben Hurdy. "Haul 'em over, boys!" "Down!" ordered Tom. "What on earth made the men sneeze?" demanded Dick, gazing around sharply. "Smells like pepper," replied Major Larry Colby, who was close at hand. "Would anybody be mean enough to use that?" "Perhaps." "Up!" cried Rockley once more. "Pull! pull! pull!" His team gave a savage haul as ordered, and up came Tom's men in spite of themselves. Then began a tug of war in dead earnest, with the rope nearly three feet in the Rockleys' favor. CHAPTER XXII A SWIM AND SOME SNAKES The majority of the cadets were now inclined to think that Rockley's team would win the contest. They had seen Tom's followers sneezing, but thought this might come from the dampness of the ground. "Don't give in, Tom!" cried Sam, dancing around. "You've got to beat him!" "Bah! you act like a monkey," said Lew Flapp. "Rockley's fellows are bound to win." In the meantime the rope was moving rapidly backward and forward. Once Rockley and his men had Tom's team dangerously close to the line. But Tom ordered a drop and there the team clung, refusing to budge an inch further. "Time is almost up," said George Strong. "Three minutes more!" "Up!" cried Rockley. "Up and pull for all you are worth!" cried Tom. "Pull, I tell you! Make every ounce of muscle count!" And pull Tom's team did as never before, and Tom with them, watching for the first sign of returning weakness. But the team was now on its mettle and made the Rockleys come over the line in spite of the frantic orders from Rockley himself to drop. "It's ours!" screamed Tom, and with a final haul brought the opponents over the line with a rush. Rockley, flat on his back on the grass, trying in vain to dig his heels into the soil, and the others floundering just as vainly. A cheer went up for Tom's team, while Rockley and his followers left the field in disgust. "It was well won, Tom!" said Dick enthusiastically. "I never saw a better tug of war in my life." "I'd like to know who threw that pepper," answered Tom, with an angry glance toward Lew Flapp and his cronies. "Did somebody throw pepper?" asked Mr. Strong. "I think they did, although I'm not sure. Anyway, something came along and made the most of us sneeze." "It's too bad, Rover. I'll try to make sure of this," said the teacher. But though he made an investigation nothing came of it. Some of the cadets were so delighted with the success of Tom's team that they took Tom on their shoulders and marched around the entire encampment with him. "I tell you, Rockley feels sore," said Sam, a little later. "Around the belt?" asked Tom with a grin. "I mean in his mind. He and Lew Flapp are having a regular quarrel over the contest. I guess Flapp lost some money." "Perhaps, if he has, it will cure him of betting," put in Dick. Sam and Tom had received permission to go to the upper end of the lake in one of the rowboats on the following afternoon. Songbird Powell and Fred Garrison went along, and all took their fishing outfits and plenty of bait. "Bring home a nice mess of fish," said Dick, on parting with his brothers. "Sorry I can't go with you." "Oh, you'll have company enough," declared Sam. "I heard that some of the country folks are going to visit the encampment to-day and perhaps those Staton girls will be among them." The four boys were soon on the way, two rowing at a time. The weather was ideal, and the water as smooth as that of a mill pond. "What a beautiful spot this is," declared Fred, as they glided long. "I'm sure Captain Putnam could not have selected a better." "I have already gotten some splendid pictures," returned Powell, who possessed a good snap-shot camera, now lying on the stern seat of the boat. "I'm going to take some more pictures to-day." On the way to the upper end of the lake Sam did a little fishing and brought in one bass of fair size. "This makes a fellow feel like a true poet," murmured Powell, gazing dreamily at the water, and then he went on: "I love to glide, By the green-clad side Of the glassy lake, And there to take My ease with book Or line and hook, And spend the day Far, far away From care and toil, On Nature's soil." "Just to listen to Songbird!" cried Tom. "He grinds it out like a regular sausage-making machine," and then he went on gayly: "I love to swim, In Nature's soil, By the green-clad side, Of a mountain wide, And there to bake, My little toes, On a garden rose, And take a hose, And wet the lake With a hot snowflake, In the middle of June-- If that isn't too soon-- And sail to the moon In a big balloon--" "Oh, Tom, let up!" roared Fred. "Talk about a sausage-making machine--" "And when in the moon, I'd drive a stake, And tie my lake Fast to a star, Or a trolley car, Then jump in a sack And ride right back--" "To where you belong, And stop that song!" finished Sam. "Oh, but that's the worst yet. Shall we duck him, Fred?" "No, don't pollute the water," answered Garrison. "He ought to be ducked," came from Powell, in disgust. "Whenever I have a poetic streak--" "It's catching, as the fly-paper said to the fly," finished Tom. "Let's call it square and take a new tack. Who's in for a swim when we reach the end of the lake?" "I am!" was the united cry from the others. They were passing several small islands and now came to another turn in Bass Lake. Just beyond this was a small sandy beach, backed up by a mass of rocks and brushwood. "That looks like a good place for a swim," said Powell, forgetting all about his so-called poetry. "Suits me," returned Tom. "Let's pull ashore and tie the boat fast, and I'll put up--" "A peanut reward for the first fellow in," finished Fred. "Caught you that time, Tom, just as you caught Songbird with his doggerel." As happy as any boys could be, the four cadets tied up their boat. In doing this one started to splash in the water, followed by another, and as a consequence before the cutting-up came to a finish the seats of the craft were pretty well wetted. "Never mind," said Tom. "They'll soon dry in the sun. We can put our clothes on the rocks." The boys were soon in the water and having a most glorious time. The lake was fairly deep off the end of the boat and here they took turns at diving. Fred and Songbird also went in for a race, the former coming in only a few feet ahead. "I guess we had better dress now and try our hand at fishing," said Sam after nearly an hour had passed. "One more dive!" cried Tom and took one full of grace, to the very bottom of the lake. As Tom came up to the surface he heard a cry from Sam, quickly followed by a yell from Fred. "What's up?" he called out, swimming toward the shore. "Land on the boat, Tom!" cried Sam, and leaped into the craft, followed by Fred and Powell. "All right; but what is wrong?" asked Tom, and climbed tip over the stern. "We can't get our clothes." "Why not?" "Look for yourself." Tom looked and gave a low whistle of astonishment. And not without good reason, for there on the rocks where they had left their garments rested a big black snake! "This is interesting truly," murmured the boy, gazing at his companions in dismay. "I'm going to get a rock and throw it at the snake," said Sam. A stone was close to the boat, and watching his chance, he picked it up and threw it at the reptile. The snake darted to one side. It was merely grazed by the rock and now it hissed viciously. The hiss appeared to be a signal, and in a moment more another snake and then another appeared, until fully a dozen reptiles each a yard or more in length covered the rocks where all of the cadets' wearing apparel rested! CHAPTER XXIII A GLIMPSE OF AN OLD ENEMY "We are in a pickle now and no mistake!" groaned Fred Garrison. He hated snakes as much as he did poison. "It's certainly bad," declared Songbird Powell. "I wonder what we had best do?" "Has anybody got a pistol?" Nobody had, nor was there any weapon handy outside of a jackknife and a fishing rod. "If we only had a shot-gun," sighed Sam. "But we haven't one and we must do the best we can without it," answered Tom. "Songbird, supposing you try to charm 'em with some of that soothing poetry of yours. Or take a picture of 'em." "This is no joke," growled Powell. "I want my clothes." "Well, go ahead and take 'em--I shan't stop you." "I'm going to get another rock," said Sam. "Let us all get stones," suggested Tom. "Then we can throw together." This was thought to be a good idea, and soon the stones were secured and each cadet took careful aim. Three of the snakes were hit, one quite seriously. These retreated, but the other snakes remained as defiant as ever. "There must be a nest under the rocks," said Tom. "Were that not so I am sure the snakes would leave at once." "I've got another idea!" cried Fred. "Why didn't we think of it before?" "I haven't thought of it yet, Fred," grinned Tom. "What is it?" "Let us take our fishing rods and tie one fast to another. Then we can turn the boat around and go fishing on the rocks for our clothes." "That's the talk," rejoined Powell. "A good idea, Fred." Three of the rods were pieced together, making a fishing pole over thirty feet long. The boat was then swung around, and while two kept the craft in place the others went fishing for the clothing. The task was not so easy as it looked, and the snakes whipped around and hissed in a most alarming fashion. More than once they had a coat or other garment on the pole only to drop it again. But they persevered and soon had everything on board but Fred's shirt and one of Tom's shoes. "Here comes the shirt," cried Tom, at last, and landed the garment in the bow of the rowboat. "And a snake with it!" screamed Sam. "Look out, everybody!" Sam was right, the snake was there and in a trice was whipping around under the seat. "Stamp on him, Fred!" cried Tom, and Garrison, who had his shoes on, did so. Then Tom caught the reptile by the tail and flung it into the lake. After this there was but little trouble in getting the remaining shoe, and with this aboard they sent the rowboat out into the lake and lost no time in finishing their dressing. "This was a truly horrible experience," was Sam's comment, after the excitement had died down. "Gracious, I feel as if the snakes were crawling around me this minute!" "Don't say that," said Fred with a shudder. "You make me feel as if there was another snake in my shirt." "The best thing to do is to forget the snakes," put in Songbird Powell. "Let us row around to the other side of the lake." All were willing, and soon the vicinity was left far behind. Then they came to where a fair sized brook flowed into Bass Lake, and here they came to anchor and began to fish, while Powell took several photographs. "I have always found it good fishing near a brook like that," said Tom. "The fish come around looking for food from the brook." Tom's remark was evidently true, for in less than an hour each of the boys had a good sized string of fish to his credit. In the excitement of the sport the cadets forgot all about the adventure with the snakes, nor did they pay much attention to the flight of time until Fred Garrison glanced at his watch. "Gee Christopher!" he ejaculated. "What time is it?" asked Powell. "Half-past four." "And we promised to be back at five-thirty!" put in Sam. "We'll have to hustle, fellows." "Oh, we can get back in an hour easily enough," put in Tom. "But we've got to clean out the boat and clean up ourselves," came from Fred. "Come, fellows, wind up and put away your hooks and poles." He started and the others followed. Then Fred and Powell took the oars, and the return to camp was begun. Not caring to go back the same way they had come, they sped along the opposite shore of the lake, where were located several coves and cliffs of rock. "This is as pretty as the other shore," remarked Songbird. And he began: "Oh, dreamy days in summer time, When purling brooks and shady nooks--" "If you start up again I'll jump overboard," interrupted Tom. "Do so, you need a cooling off," grunted Powell; but that was the end of the poetry for the time being. They were just passing one of the coves when they caught sight of a man sitting on an overhanging tree, fishing. "Hullo, what luck?" cried Fred, good-naturedly. "Fair," was the somewhat surly answer. Then, as the man caught sight of the others in the boat, he turned his head away. "That fellow looks familiar to me," ejaculated Sam, in sudden and strong excitement. "And he looks familiar to me, too," exclaimed Tom. "Do you think it is Arnold Baxter?" "If it isn't, it's his double," went on Tom. "Row the boat over quick, boys." "Who is this Arnold Baxter? The father of Dan Baxter?" questioned Fred. "The same, Fred." "The fellow who escaped from prison, or the hospital?" asked Powell. "That's the chap." Without delay the rowboat was turned in toward the overhanging tree. Scarcely had this been done when the fisherman pulled in his line with all speed, took up his string of fish and ran into the bushes between two cliffs of rocks. "He is getting out, and in a hurry too!" said Fred. "Hi, there, stop! We want to talk to you!" sang out Tom, at the top of his lungs. "Ain't got time," roared back the strange fisherman, and on the instant he was gone. "It must have been Arnold Baxter, beyond a doubt," said Sam. "If it was, what is he doing here?" questioned his brother. "He's keeping out of the reach of the law," answered Powell. "I suppose he thought he was perfectly safe in such an out-of-the-way place as this." "And he was fishing just to kill time," put in Fred. "I'd like to go after him and make sure," went on Tom. "What do you say, Sam?" "I am with you." "But we may be late--" began Fred. "Oh, Captain Putnam will excuse us when I tell him what delayed us." The rowboat soon reached the shore, and Sam and Tom leaped to the brushwood, where the trail of the vanished fisherman was plainly to be seen. It was decided that Fred and Powell should remain in charge of the rowboat, so that nobody might come and make off with the craft. Leaving their fishing outfits behind them the two Rover boys struck out through the bushes, and soon gained a narrow forest path running through the woods that skirted this section of Bass Lake. "I wish we could catch Baxter," said Tom, on the way. "It would be a feather in our cap, Sam." "We must be careful. More than likely he is armed, and he won't hesitate to shoot if he is cornered." "Oh, I know that. The most we can do is to follow him until we reach some place where we can summon assistance." The path led deeper and deeper into the woods and then along a fairsized brook. They kept their eyes wide open, but could see nothing excepting a number of birds and an occasional squirrel or chipmunk. Once they heard the distant bark of a fox and this was the only sound that broke the stillness. "It's rather a lonely place," said Sam, after a silence lasting several minutes. "I must say I shouldn't like to meet Arnold Baxter here alone." "For all we know he may be watching us from behind some tree." Several times they got down to examine the path. Footprints could be seen quite plainly, but neither of the boys was expert enough at trailing to tell whether these prints had been made recently or not. "It would take an Indian scout to make sure of these footmarks," said Tom. "They are beyond me." "Let us go a bit further," returned his brother. "Then if we don't see anything, we may as well go back to the lake." "Hark!" They listened intently and at a distance heard a crashing in the brushwood. "That sounded as if somebody had jumped across the brook, Tom!" "Just what I should say, Sam. Come on!" Again they went forward, a distance of thirty or forty yards. At this point the path seemed to dwindle down to little or nothing. "We have come to the end of the trail," was Tom's comment, as he gazed around sharply. "Do you see anything?" queried his brother. "Nothing much. One or two of the bushes over yonder seem to be brushed aside and broken." "What do you think we had best do now?" "Listen!" Both remained silent for several minutes, but nothing out of the ordinary reached their ears. "We may as well give it up, Sam. It is growing dark and there is no telling where this search would lead us. We might even get lost in the woods." They retraced their steps as quickly as they could to where they had left the rowboat. "What luck?" queried Fred. "None; he got away from us." "It's too bad," said Powell; and then the return to the camp was made without further delay. CHAPTER XXIV MORE RIVALRY "Do you mean to tell me that you saw Arnold Baxter?" exclaimed Dick, after listening to Sam and Tom's story. "We did," replied the youngest Rover. "There was no mistake?" "If it wasn't Arnold Baxter do you think he would take such pains to get out of our reach?" asked Tom. "That is true, Tom. But it seems so unnatural. What can he be doing in this out-of-the-way place?" "As Powell says, he must be keeping out of the reach of the law. Perhaps he expects to keep shady until this affair blows over." "As if it would blow over!" cried Sam. "Dick, we ought to do something." Captain Putnam had already learned why the four cadets had been late in returning to camp. The Rovers now went to consult him further. "I agree, something should be done," said the captain. "Perhaps you had better go to the nearest telegraph office, Richard, and telegraph to your folks. You might also get some of the local authorities to take up the hunt for this criminal." "Who are the local authorities?" "I really don't know, but we can find out at Oakville." In the end Dick and Tom received permission to leave camp for an indefinite time. Late as it was, they hurried to Oakville and caught the telegraph operator at the little railroad station just as he was shutting up for the night. Having sent the message to their father they made inquiries of the operator and learned that the town boasted of a Judge Perkins and that the local constable was Munro Staton. "Do you mean the farmer who lives down on the road to Bass Lake?" asked Dick. "The man who has twin daughters?" "That's the man." "Why, he was in camp to-day, with his daughters," cried Dick. "Wish I had known of this before. I might have hired him to make a hunt for the fellow we are after. Where does that judge live?" "Sorry, but he went to New York yesterday and won't be back for several days." The boys said no more, but without delay turned away from Oakville and made their way to the Staton farmhouse. "Hullo! I didn't expect to see you again to-day!" exclaimed Munro Staton, as he opened the door for them. "Come in." They entered, to find the girls sewing and Mrs. Staton darning stockings. Mr. Staton had been reading his favorite weekly newspaper. "We have come on a very important errand, Mr. Staton," began Dick. "We have been down to Oakville and learned there that you are the local police officer." "Ah! Do you want somebody arrested?" "If it can be done." "Somebody at the camp?" put in Helen. "No, I wish he was at the camp," said Tom. "But I'm afraid he is miles away." All of the Statons were interested and listened to the tale Tom and Dick had to tell with close attention. "Seems to me I've heard of this Baxter and his son," said Munro Staton, scratching his head. "How does he look?" As well as he was able Tom described the man, while Dick took a sheet of paper and a pencil and made a rough but life-like sketch of the individual. "Why, you are quite an artist!" said Alice Staton as she gazed at the picture. "I'm sure I'd recognize that man if I met him." "So would I," added her father. "Can I keep this picture?" "To be sure," replied Dick. "Now, Mr. Staton, to come to business. What are your services as constable worth a day?" "Oh, about two or two dollars and a half." "Well if you will start a hunt for this man Baxter at once I'll guarantee you three dollars per day for a week or two, and if you succeed in landing him in jail I'll guarantee you a reward of one hundred dollars. I know my father will pay that amount willingly." "And if he won't, I will," said Tom. "You must be rich." "We are fairly rich, Mr. Staton. This man is a great criminal and has been an enemy to our family for years. We don't want to see him at large." "Well, I'll take the job and do the best I can for you," said Munro Staton and arose to his feet. "My hired man can run the farm while I am gone." He said he knew the spot where the boys had first seen Arnold Baxter, and he would visit it at sunrise the next day and take up the trail as best he could. "That trail through the woods used to lead to the village of Hopdale," he said. "Perhaps I'll learn something about him over there." "I sincerely hope that you do," returned Dick. The boys, and especially Tom, were worn out with traveling and readily consented to borrow a horse from Munro Staton, on which to ride back to camp. The steed was returned early in the morning. "It's rather a wild-goose chase," said Dick, in talking matters over with his brothers. "But I don't know of anything else to do. Mr. Staton may catch Baxter quicker than a metropolitan detective could do the job." Three days passed, and during that time the boys received two telegrams from home, stating they should do as they thought best in the Baxter affair, and that a detective was on the way. Then the detective appeared at the camp and followed Munro Staton on the hunt for the missing criminal. But the search by both men proved useless, and nothing more was seen of Arnold Baxter for the time being. The cadets had arranged for a series of athletic contests, to come off at the beginning of the following week. There was to be broad and high jumping, and running, as well as throwing the hammer. All of the students were interested, and for some time these contests formed the total subject of conversation. The cadets to enter for the various events, eight in number, were those already introduced in these pages and a dozen or fifteen in addition, all lively, wide-awake youths, each of whom looked as if he would do his best to win. In a manner not to be easily explained, the camp divided itself into two factions, one led by Dick and Major Larry, and the other led by Lew Flapp and Pender. To the former belonged the Rovers and their numerous chums, and to the latter Rockley, Ben Hurdy, and boys of a similar turn. Each crowd had one or more followers entered for every event and, as before, numerous wagers were made as to which person and which crowd would win. Dick had entered for the high jump, Tom for the hammer throwing, and Sam for a half mile race for cadets of his own class. The boys practiced a good deal, although not always where the others could see what they were doing. The day for the contests was a perfect one and as news of the events had traveled to Oakville and other places, quite a respectable crowd of outsiders came to the camp to witness the affair. "I hope you Rover boys win," said Alice Staton, who had come with her twin sister and her mother in a buggy. "Thank you," returned Dick politely. "We shall certainly do our best. But you must remember that we have some first-class athletes at this academy." "Oh, I don't doubt it. All academies have them," put in Helen Staton. The first event to come off was the hammer throwing, to take place in the middle of the parade ground. There were four entries for this, Tom, as already mentioned, Jackson, Powell, and a big boy named Larson. Larson, who belonged to the Flapp crowd, was looked on as the probable winner, for he handled the hammer exceedingly well. But Jackson could also throw, as the others well knew. Nothing was known about the skill of Tom or Powell in this direction. The contest began with a throw by Powell. It was not very good and Jackson outdistanced him by three feet. "That's the style, Jackson!" cried Lew Flapp. "Show 'em what you can do." "This is the day our crowd comes out on top," put in Pender. "Crowing rather early, seems to me," came from Fred Garrison dryly. It was now Tom's turn and he threw the hammer with all the force at his command. It fell just beyond the point reached by Jackson. "Good for you, Tom!" cried Sam. "That's the way to do it." "Humph! Just wait till Larson takes his turn," came from a Flapp follower. Larson stepped to the mark with the air of one who knows just what he is doing. Up went the hammer with a long swing--to land in the very spot where Tom had thrown it. "A tie! A tie!" was the cry. "Well done, Larson!" came from Lew Flapp, but he was by no means satisfied over the showing made. Being tied, it was necessary for Tom and Larson to throw once more, and again Tom took his position at the mark. "Be careful, Tom," whispered Dick. "Take your time." Again the hammer swung up into the air and went sailing forward. "Hurrah, eight inches beyond his first mark!" came the cry. "Larson will have to hump himself to beat that!" It was now Larson's turn and he stepped to the mark with a quick, earnest air. He realized that he must do his best if he expected to beat Tom. Jackson had picked up the hammer and he it was who had handed the article to Tom. As Larson swung the hammer on high Tom cried out quickly: "Stop!" "What's the matter with you?" cried Jackson uglily. "I want Captain Putnam to examine that hammer." "There ain't nothing wrong with it." "Possibly not. But please remember that I used the one marked A." "So did I," came from Powell. Captain Putnam brushed forward. "I will look at that hammer, please," he said to Larson quietly. He knew that the cadets had several hammers for practicing throwing in the camp. "I--I guess it's all right," faltered Larson. "This hammer is marked B." "B!" cried Tom. "That B hammer is about half a pound lighter than the one marked A." "It ain't so!" yelled Jackson. "Let me see the hammer marked A," said the captain, and it was brought from the spot where Jackson had thrown it. "It is certainly heavier than this one," he went on. "Jackson, what do you mean by making such a substitution?" "I--er--I didn't know there was any difference." "But why did you make the change at all?" "I--er--I knew Larson liked this hammer better. The handle just suits him." "That is so," replied Larson blandly. "We will try the contest over again," said Captain Putnam. "And every contestant will use the hammer marked A." "I don't like the hammer marked A," grumbled Larson. "I would just as lief use the hammer marked B," said Tom quickly. "So would I," added Powell, who felt he could not win anyway. "Very well then, we will use the hammer marked B," said Captain Putnam. "And after this, Jackson, be sure of what you are doing," he added sharply, and at the words the boy who had tried to work such a mean trick was glad enough to slink back out of sight as much as possible. CHAPTER XXV WINNING THE CONTESTS Powell was again the first to throw the hammer and this time it went two feet beyond his first mark. "Good for you, Songbird!" said Tom. "I wish you had made it a yard." Jackson came up with a scowling face. He did his best, but this time fell behind Powell by four inches. "You ought to have stuck to the other hammer, Jackson," laughed the youth who composed songs. "Don't you throw that up to me!" whispered Jackson fiercely. "If you do I'll hammer you for it." "Is that meant for a pun, Jackson?" "No, it ain't. I won't stand being slurred. I'll pound you good." "With the hammer?" "No, with my fists." "Really? Well, you'll have to spell able first." Tom came next, as before, and now the hammer flew out four feet and nine inches beyond his first mark. "That shows what the other hammer can do," said Major Larry. Larson was as much out of sorts as Jackson, but nevertheless he resolved to do his best to win the contest. Up went the hammer with a mighty swing and circled through the air. But the throw was behind that of Tom by fourteen inches. "Hurrah! Tom Rover wins!" was the cry, and many rushed forward to congratulate him, while Larson and Jackson retired as quickly as they could and in great disgust. The next contest was a dash of two hundred yards and was won by a boy named Bird. "He's a bird!" sang out Tom loudly, and at this the crowd laughed heartily. Then came a race of a quarter of a mile for the little cadets and this was won by Harry Moss, with Joe Davis a close second. Lew Flapp had backed up Ben Hurdy, but cigarettes had done their work on Hurdy and his wind gave out long before the race came to a finish. "Good for you, Harry," said Dick, slapping the little cadet on the back. "That was a fine run you made. And your run was almost as good, Joe," he added, to Davis. "I don't care if I did lose," panted Davis. "Both of us beat Ben Hurdy hollow, and that's all I wanted to do." "Oh, there's no moss growing on Moss," cried Tom, and this brought out another laugh. The next contest to come off was the high jump, for which Dick had entered, along with Pender, Rockley, and four others, including Hans Mueller. What had possessed the German boy to enter was beyond finding out, for he could scarcely jump at all. Yet many, for the fun of it, told him they thought he would surely win. "Oh, you'll outjump everybody," said Sam. "None of 'em will come anywhere near you." "Dot's it! Dot's it!" cried Hans excitedly. "I vos chump so high like nefer vos, ain't it?" A lad named Lemon was the first to go over the bar, at a height of four feet and two inches. Another cadet followed, going him two inches better. "Now, Hans, see what you can do," said Major Larry. "Vos it mine turn to chump?" "Yes. Are you ready?" "Sure I vos." "How high up shall they place the stick?" "Apout like dot," and Hans pointed to the top of his head. "All right, fellows, up she goes!" sang out Tom, and the stick went up. Hans spat on his hands as if going to lift something. Then he squared his shoulders and drew far back from the jumping place. "Gif me lots of room, eferypotty!" he sang out. "All the room you want, Dutchy!" cried one of the cadets. Away Hans started for the stick, running as swiftly as his short legs would carry him. When about ten feet away he made a wild leap, stuck up both legs in the air, and came down flat on his back with a loud whack. "Hurrah, Hans wins!" cried Tom. "Best fall I've seen in a year!" "Wh--who--vat--" gasped Hans, trying to recover his wind. "Who knocked me der pack ofer annahow?" "Nobody hit you, Hans." "Who put geese grease der groundt on ver I run, hey?" "Nobody." "Well, did I knock der stick town?" "No, you didn't come anywhere near the stick." "Do I got some more trials?" "I think, Mueller, that you had better retire," said Captain Putnam with a smile. "High jumping does not seem to agree with you." "Maype dot's so, captain. Veil, I ton't care annahow. I vill drow der hammer ven ve haf some more of dem kondests," and then Hans dropped to the rear. Rockley was the next to jump, and his record was an inch better than that already made. "That's all right," said Lew Flapp. Two other pupils now took their turns in jumping and Rockley's record was speedily eclipsed. Then Dick came along and sent the record still higher. "That's the talk, Dick," said Tom enthusiastically. "I don't think Pender can do as well." "Can't I," sneered Pender. "I'll show you." On he came, measuring his distance with care, and went over the stick at the same height Dick had taken. "Another tie!" was the cry. The last boy to jump did not do as well as Rockley, so the contest was voted a tie between Dick and Gus Pender. "Now, Dick, you must win," said Sam. "You think a good lot of his ability," sneered Lew Flapp, who stood close by, and started to walk off. He had scarcely taken a step when Dick gave him a quick shove that sent the tall boy flat on his face. "I'll teach you to step on my foot, Lew Flapp!" he cried hotly. "What's the trouble?" demanded several, while Mr. Strong came forward to investigate. "Lew Flapp stepped on my right foot, and he did it just as hard as he could," said Dick. "I--I didn't," growled Flapp. "I say you did--and what is more, I think you did it on purpose." "He did it to lame you, so you couldn't jump against Pender," came from Tom. "Flapp, did you step on Rover's foot on purpose?" demanded George Strong. "No, sir--didn't step on it at all." "It is very strange. Rover says you did." "He is mistaken." "I am not mistaken. That is why I shoved him away, Mr. Strong." "Is your foot hurt?" "I don't think it is. But it didn't do it any good to have it stepped on." "Probably not. Do you still wish to jump?" "Yes, sir. If I don't, some of the crowd will say I am afraid," said Dick. "In the future, Flapp, be more careful," said George Strong significantly. "By Jinks! but the Flapp crowd are dandies!" whispered Tom. "First Jackson tried to change the hammers and now Flapp himself tries to disable you. We must be on our guard after this." "That's true," replied his elder brother, and Sam nodded. Because of Dick's hurt foot it was decided that Gus Pender should jump first. Pender did his best, clearing the stick by two inches better than before. "Put it up an inch higher," cried Dick, and made the jump, despite a pain in the instep that was by no means pleasant. Then Pender tried again, but failed, and Dick was declared the winner. "This is the day for the Rovers!" cried one cadet, and a cheer for Tom and Dick followed, while the Staton girls waved their handkerchiefs wildly. After this came several other contests, in each of which the crowd pitted against the Flapp faction won. This made Lew Flapp, Rockley, Pender, Jackson and a number of others feel very sore. "We must win something," cried Pender fiercely. "If we don't we'll be the laughing stock of the whole academy." At last came the half mile race for which Sam had entered. Now, though Lew Flapp was much larger than most of the others, he was in the same class as Sam, and he had also entered this race, which boasted of ten contestants, including William Philander Tubbs. "You have got to win this, Lew," said Rockley. "It ought to be easy for you, with such long legs." "I mean to win and leave that Rover boy so far behind he'll feel sick," answered Flapp. Sam had but little to say. But he knew that both Tom and Dick expected him to win, and he resolved to "do or die" as the saying goes. "Even if I lose they shan't say I didn't try," the youngest Rover told himself. Out on the field William Philander Tubbs was strutting around boastfully. "I can't help but win, don't you know," he drawled. "Running is exactly in my line." "Oh, what a whopper!" was Fred Garrison's comment. "Tubbs is about as lazy as they make 'em." Soon all of the contestants were ready, and George Strong explained the conditions of the race. "You are to run along the shore to the big rock where Lieutenant Merrick is stationed," he said. "You are to round the rock by running to the right, and you must keep to the right of the path on returning, so that you won't run into anybody. The first to reach this mark on the return wins the race. Do you understand?" The runners said that they did. "Very well then. Get ready. Go!" Away piled the boys in a line that did not break for several yards. Then Sam Rover shot ahead, followed by Flapp and two cadets named Pigley and Franell. "There they go!" was the shout. "Leg it, Sam!" yelled Tom. "Leg it, old man!" "Go it, Flapp! Don't let them win this race!" "It's yours if you want it, Franell!" "Remember how you won the race at Ithaca, Pigley!" So the cries went on, while the outsiders cheered for nobody in particular. "Oh, I hope that Rover boy wins," said Alice Staton to her sister. "So do I," answered Helen. "By Jove, but I think I'll rest a bit!" panted William Philander Tubbs, after running a couple of hundred yards, and he sat down on the grass, while the crowd laughed at him. Sam was keeping the lead in good shape, although hard pressed by Flapp, Pigley, and Franell. His wind was good and he was running with a grace which brought forth much favorable comment. "Whether he wins or not, he is the most graceful runner in the school," whispered George Strong to Captain Putnam. "I never saw his equal." "You are right, Strong," answered the captain. "I'll tell you what," he added. "They are a great trio, those Rover boys. One cannot help but love them, in spite of their tricks and occasional wrong-doings." "I agree, Captain Putnam. And I must say I do not find their wrong-doings so very great either," concluded George Strong. The rock that was the turning point in the race was now almost gained. Sam still led, but Flapp was right at one shoulder, with Pigley at the other. Franell, at a look from Flapp, had dropped behind. On the rock stood the lieutenant George Strong had mentioned. He was friendly to Lew Flapp and as Sam swept around the rock, he leaned forward, making the youngest Rover run about a yard further than was necessary. Then he allowed Flapp to cut the rock closely. But Sam was on his mettle and now bounded ahead faster than ever, leaving Flapp and Pigley several yards in the rear. "Confound him," thought Lew Flapp. "He'll win sure, unless Franell does as he agreed--good!" Flapp almost shouted the word, as he saw Sam run into Franell with a crash and go down. The other boy had crossed the running path and gotten directly into Sam's way. "I see you are out of it!" cried Flapp gleefully, as he shot by the prostrate figure. "It was a trick!" muttered Sam to himself, and tried to rise to his feet. But the wind was knocked completely out of him and before he could recover the race was over, and Lew Flapp had come in ahead. CHAPTER XXVI SAM SHOWS WHAT HE CAN DO "It was another trick. He knocked me down on purpose." Thus spoke Sam, as soon as he could get a hearing. "Well, if that isn't beastly!" cried Franell, in apparent surprise. "I knocked him over! Why the little clown plumped right into me! "Were you running on your side of the path?" questioned George Strong. "I was, sir. Flapp and Pigley can prove it." "That's right, Mr. Strong," said Lew Flapp. "It was entirely Rover's fault," added Pigley. "He didn't keep to the right as he should." The other runners were questioned, but could give no testimony, as they had not been close enough at the time of the collision. "It is too bad it happened," said Captain Putnam. "I would have won if it hadn't been for the fall," said Sam bitterly. "I was in the lead." "Yes, but you were about winded," said Flapp. "I saw you getting groggy. That's what made you fall into Franell, I guess." This remark made the youngest Rover more angry than ever. "Mr. Strong," he said, turning to the head teacher suddenly, "will you do me a favor?" "What do you wish, Rover?" "Will you time me if I run that race over again?" "You mean to run it over alone?" "Yes, sir--unless Flapp will run against me." "I've won the race and that's all there is to it," grumbled the tall boy doggedly. "Certainly I'll time you, if you wish it," said Mr. Strong, who saw how disappointed Sam was. "But it won't be a race, you know." "I don't care--I want to show them what I can do." "Very well." Sam drew up to the mark and declared himself ready. "Shall I run with you?" asked Tom. "Just to urge you on, you know?" "All right, Tom, come on." "Go!" cried George Strong, watch in hand and his eye on the second hand. Away went the brothers side by side, while a cheer went up from those who had wished to see Sam win. Tom kept close to his brother until the rounding rock was gained and here Sam compelled him to drop behind. "Go on!" yelled Tom good-naturedly. "Go! I'm after you!" and he put on an extra spurt. Sam also spurted and kept the lead by about two yards. "Humph! that ain't running!" muttered Lew Flapp to Rockley, but nevertheless, he was greatly disturbed. Down the line swept the two runners with the speed of the wind, Sam keeping his two yards' lead in spite of Tom's efforts to overtake him. "Won!" was the shout. "And Tom Rover is close behind." And then the crowd gathered around George Strong to learn the time. "Eight seconds better than Lew Flapp!" was the cry. "And Tom Rover came in four seconds better!" "That shows what Sam Rover would have done had Franell kept out of his way." "The race should have gone to Sam Rover!" So the cries kept up until Captain Putnam compelled the cadets to quiet down. Lew Flapp and his cronies were much disgusted and left the field almost immediately. "He's afraid to stay," declared Dick. "He doesn't want Sam to challenge him," and this was the truth. The foot races were followed by some prize shooting, a race on the lake, and then by a tub race, and a race in sacks, which called forth much laughter, not only from the cadets, but also from the visitors. "It was just splendid!" declared Alice Staton to Dick, when it was all over. "I never had such a lovely time in my life." "Nor I," added her twin sister. "But your brother should have had that running race. It was a shame to knock him down." "Never mind," said Tom, who had come up. "All the boys know he can run faster than the winner anyway." A luncheon was served to the visitors by Captain Putnam's order and after that the cadets and their newly-made friends were allowed to go walking, boating, or driving, as they saw fit. Swings had been erected in the grove close to the encampment and these were constantly patronized. "It must be lots of fun to be a cadet," said Alice Staton, when ready to depart. "If I was a boy I should want to go to a military academy." "Oh, it's not all play," said Tom. "We have to work pretty hard over our studies and sometimes a fellow doesn't feel like drilling, but has to do it all the same." It can truly be said that the Flapp crowd were much disappointed over the results of the day's contests. Only two events had been won--a boat race of small importance and the race in which Lew Flapp had come off victor, and the latter victory was dimmed by the knowledge that Sam Rover had cut down Flapp's time over the course by eight seconds. "We may as well sell out and go home," said Pender, in deep disgust. "But we can't go home," returned Rockley. "We've got to stay right here and take all the taunts that come along." "Nobody shall taunt me," cried Jackson. "If they try it I'll punch somebody's nose." "And to think we lost our money, too," said Ben Hurdy, after a pause. "That's what makes me sick." "Reckon you didn't lose much," said Lew Flapp, with a sickly grin. "I lost all I had, and that's enough." "Who won it?" "Hans Mueller. That crazy Dutch boy was yelling for Tom Rover and I took him up." The Flapp crowd did not feel like mingling with the visitors, and at the first opportunity Lew Flapp and his intimate cronies slipped away from the camp and hurried to the hermit's den they had discovered. "We'll have a little jollification of our own," said Rockley, and his plan was speedily carried into effect, in a fashion which would not have been approved by Captain Putnam or any of the teachers under him. "We must get after Dick Rover," said Flapp, while smoking a black-looking cigar. "As a captain he stands pretty high. If we can pull him down we'll be striking a blow at the whole Rover family and also at their intimate friends." "Right you are. But the question is, How are we to get hold of him, and what are we to do?" put in Jackson. "I've got a plan, but I don't know exactly how it will work." "Let us have it, Lew," came from Gus Pender. "Some dark night we'll go to Rover's tent and haul him from his cot. We'll wear masks and he'll think he's in for a bit of hazing and won't squeal very loud. Then we can blindfold him and bring him here." "So far, so good," put in Rockley. "And after that?" "You know how he hates liquor?" "Does he, or is it all put on?" questioned Ben Hurdy. "I can't say as to that, but anyway he pretends to hate it, so it amounts to the same thing. Well, after we have him here we can get him to drink something by hook or by crook, and when he falls asleep we can put an empty bottle in his hand and then somebody can bring Captain Putnam to the spot. That will wipe out Dick Rover's record as a model pupil all in a minute." "Good!" almost shouted Rockley. "We can dose him easily. You just leave that for me." "Wish we could get his brothers into it, too," came from Pender. "Oh, we can serve them out some other way," answered Lew Flapp. "At the start, we don't want to bite off more than we can chew," he added slangily. The matter was discussed for fully an hour, and when the meeting broke up each member understood fully what was to be accomplished. Two days after the athletic contests the cadets had a prize drill. The cadets had been preparing for this for some time and each company did its best to win. "I am greatly pleased with the showing made by all three companies," said Captain Putnam after the drilling and marching were at an end. "Companies B and C have done very well indeed. But for general excellence the average of Company A is a little above the others, so the prize must go to Captain Rover's command." "Hurrah for Dick Rover!" was the cry, and this was followed by a cheer for First Lieutenant Powell and for Second Lieutenant Tom Rover. "Humph! Forever cheering those Rovers!" muttered Flapp, who was in Company C. "My, but it makes me sick!" "Never mind," whispered Rockley. "Just wait till we get the chance to work our little game." At once Lew Flapp's face took on a cunning look. "I've got an idea," he whispered in return. "Why not try it on to-night? Then Captain Putnam would say Rover had been celebrating because his company won the prize." "You are right there, Lew, I didn't think of that. Wait till I sound the other fellows." It did not take Rockley long to talk to his cronies, and presently he came back with a knowing look on his face. "It's settled," he said. "By to-morrow morning Dick Rover will be in disgrace and will lose his position as captain of Company A." CHAPTER XXVII A PRISONER OF THE ENEMY Never dreaming of the plot hatched out against him, Dick retired as usual that night. Now that the worry over the competitive drill was a thing of the past he realized that he was worn out, and scarcely had his head touched the pillow than he was in the land of Nod. His awakening was a rude one. He felt himself raised up, a large towel was passed over his face and tied behind his head, and then he was dragged from his cot. "Don't dare to make a sound!" whispered a low voice in his ear. "If you do, you'll be struck senseless." "Hullo, I'm about to be hazed," thought Dick, and it must be admitted that he was far from pleased. "They think they are going to do something grand to the captain of the company that won the prize. Well, not if I can help it," and he began to struggle to free himself. But his tormentors were too many for him and almost before he knew it his hands and his feet were made secure and a sack was drawn over his head. Then he was raised up and carried away he knew not to where. "One thing is certain, they are taking me a long distance from camp," was his thought, when he found himself dumped into a rowboat. "Can they be going to the head of the lake?" The idea of using the boat had been suggested by Jackson, who said it would bewilder Dick, so he would not know where he was being taken. And Jackson was right, the eldest Rover thought he was a long way from camp when he was placed on shore again. His feet were now unloosed and he was made to march forward until the vicinity of the hermit's den was reached. Then he was carried into the den and tied fast to a log erected near one of the side walls. "Take the sack from his head," came in the voice of Lew Flapp, and this was done and then the towel was also removed. For the moment Dick could see nothing, for the glare of a large lantern was directly in his face. Then he made out half a dozen or more cadets standing around him, each with a red mask over his face, and a red skull cap with horns. "Hullo, this must be a new secret society," he thought. "I've been initiated into the Order of Black Skulls, but never into the Order of Red Skulls. Wonder what they will want me to do?" There was a moment of silence and one of the masked cadets stepped to the front. "Prisoner, are you prepared to meet your doom?" was the question put in a harsh voice. "Oh, chestnuts!" cried Dick. "I went through that long ago, when I first came to Putnam Hall." "Bow to your superiors," said another voice. "Where are the superiors?" asked Dick innocently. "I don't see 'em." "The prisoner is impertinent! Make him bow!" At once several sprang behind Dick and forced him to move his head up and down. "Let up, my head isn't on a hinge!" he cried. "Cut it short, for I'm sleepy." "Make him drink the poison and at once!" put in another of the masked cadets. The speaker tried to disguise his tones, but the voice sounded much like that of Lew Flapp and instantly Dick was on the alert. "How much do you want me to drink?" he asked cheerfully. "Only one glass, if you drink it without stopping to sneeze," put in another voice, and now Dick was certain that he recognized Rockley. "These are no friends," he thought. "They are enemies and they intend to play me foul." "How can I drink with my hands tied behind me?" he asked. "We will hold the glass for you," said another, and Dick felt almost sure it was Gus Pender who uttered the words. "It's the whole Flapp crowd," he mused. "I'm in a pickle and no mistake. I suppose they'll half kill me before they let me go." "Will you drink?" asked another. He was small in size and Dick put him down as being Ben Hurdy. "I want you to untie my hands." "Very well, let the prisoner hold the glass," said Flapp. "Thank you, Flapp." "Who said I was Flapp?" growled the tall boy, in dismay. "I say so." "My name is Brown." "All right then, Brown let it be," said Dick, not wanting to anger the bully too much. The prisoner's hands were untied and a glass containing a dark-colored mixture was handed to him. Dick had heard of the "glass of poison" before, said glass containing nothing but mud and water well stirred up. But now he was suspicious. This glass looked as if it might contain something else. "They'd as soon drug me as not," he thought. "For all I know this may be a dose strong enough to make an elephant sick. I don't think I'll drink it, no matter what they do." "Prisoner, drink!" was the cry. "Thanks, but I am not thirsty," answered Dick, as coolly as he could. "Besides, I had my dose of mud and water a long time ago." "He must drink!" roared Rockley. "Get the switches!" ordered Lew Flapp, and from a corner a number of long, heavy switches were brought forth and passed around. Things began to look serious and it must be confessed that Dick's heart beat fast, for he had no desire to undergo a switching at the hands of such a cold-hearted crowd, who would be sure to lay on the strokes heavily. "Don't you strike me," said Dick, thinking rapidly. "I'll drink fast enough. But I want to know one thing first." "Well?" "What are you going to do with me next?" "Make you take the antidote for the poison," said Flapp. "And what is that?" "Another drink." "They are going to drug me as sure as fate," reasoned Dick. "How can I outwit them?" While he was deliberating there was a noise outside, as a night bird swept by the entrance to the hermit's den. All of the masked cadets were startled and looked in that direction. By inspiration Dick seized the moment to throw the contents of the glass over his shoulder into a dark corner. When the crowd turned back he had the glass turned up to his mouth and was going through the movement of swallowing. "Ugh! what ugly stuff," he said, handing the glass to one of the crowd. "Ha! he has swallowed the poison!" cried Lew Flapp, and nudged Rockley in the ribs. "That was easy, wasn't it?" he whispered. "Give him the second glass," muttered Rockley. "That will make him as foolish as a fiddler." Pender already had the glass handy. He passed it to Dick, who suddenly glared at him in an uncertain manner. Dick had smelt the liquor in the first glass and now realized something of the plot to bring him to disgrace. "Say, but that stuff makes me feel lightheaded," he said. "Wasn't so bad, after all." "Drink this, quick," cried Flapp, more eagerly than ever. "All right," said Dick, and spilt a little out of the glass onto the floor. "Wonder what makes my hand shake so?" he murmured. "Take this and it will brace you up," put in Pender. "Ha, look there!" yelled Dick, gazing fixedly at the rear of the den. "See the three-headed owl!" All looked in the direction and again he threw the contents of the glass behind him. Then he pretended to drink, while glaring at the cadets around him. "Funny, I can't count you any more!" he muttered. "Six, seven, ten, 'leven, nine! Say, I'm all mixed up. Who put me on the merry-go-'round anyway?" He began to stagger. "Guess I'm on a toboggan slide, ain't I?" and he acted as if he could no longer stand up-right. "Cut him loose, fellows!" cried Flapp, and this was done, and Dick staggered to the table, clutched it, slid to the floor and acted as if he had fallen into a deep sleep. "Say, that was dead easy!" cried Pender gleefully. "Took the stuff like a lamb." "What's to do next, Flapp?" asked Jackson. "Say, Jackson, don't speak my name, please," cried the tall boy in alarm. "Oh, what's the odds," put in Pender. "Rover is dead to the world. Rockley knew just how to fix those doses." "That's right, Gus," came from Rockley. "We had better not lose time here," went on Flapp presently. "Let us tell Captain Putnam without delay. He'll have Rover brought back to camp just as he is, and that will disgrace him forever." "Wait till I put the empty bottle near him," said Rockley, and this was done. Then the crowd of masked cadets left the den, leaving the door wide open behind them. CHAPTER XXVIII DICK'S MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE A minute after the last of Lew Flapp's crowd left the hermit's den Dick leaped to his feet, went to the doorway, and listened intently. It was quite dark, so he could see little or nothing. At a distance he heard the masked cadets stealing swiftly along through the woods. They had put out the lantern, knowing the road fairly well through repeated excursions to the den. Soon the crowd was completely out of hearing. It must be confessed that Dick felt lonely, and almost the first thing he did was to take a match from his pocket and strike it. Discovering a bit of candle on the table he lighted this also. But little was to be seen outside of that which had already met his gaze. The hermit's den had been cleaned up around the table, on which rested half a dozen bottles, an empty cigar box, and several packs of cards. "This must be the stuff those fellows bought in Oakville," thought the eldest Rover. "They have been using this cave for a regular club room. What a beastly crowd they are! And they really imagine they are having good times, too!" As will be remembered, Dick had been given a trip on a rowboat before being brought into the den and he imagined that he was somewhere near the head of Bass Lake, how far from the camp he could not tell. "Perhaps I'm near where Tom and the others met those snakes," he mused. "Ugh! I don't want to fall in with things like that. And how I am to get back to camp without a boat is more than I can settle." Blowing out the bit of candle, he placed it in his pocket and left the den. On all sides were the thick bushes already described, and poor Dick knew not which way to turn. He listened once more, but hardly a sound broke the midnight silence. "Might as well strike out as to stay here," he said. "I don't think they'll come back in very much of a hurry, and perhaps they won't come until morning." Pushing his way through the bushes he at last reached a tiny stream that poured over the rocks. He followed the stream and after half an hour's hard walking reached the edge of the lake. He had journeyed directly away from the camp and was now in a spot that was lonely in the extreme. Fortunately or unfortunately, the water at this point was very shallow and soon Dick was wading over to what he took to be the island upon which the encampment had been located. But as a matter of fact he was headed for the main shore of the lake, and soon he was tramping further away from the camp than ever. For once in his life, so far as his bump of locality was concerned, Dick was hopelessly mixed. Dick traveled nearly a mile before he reached the conclusion that he was not on Pine Island or anywhere near it. "I'm on the mainland, that's certain," he told himself. "I guess the best thing I can do is to wait for daylight before going further. I may only--Hullo, a light!" Dick had emerged from a grove of trees and now saw a light streaming from the window of a cottage but a short distance away. The sight of this caused him to breathe a sigh of relief. "Some farmer's place, I suppose," he murmured. "Well, anything will do. I can get a place to sleep, and the farmer can testify to it that I haven't been drinking, as Lew Flapp and his cronies will want to prove." A curtain was drawn over the window of the cottage, so that Dick could not see into the room. The cottage was small, with but a single doors and on this the youth rapped loudly. The rapping was followed by a commotion inside of the cottage and Dick heard two persons leap to their feet. "Who's there?" demanded a rough voice. "A stranger," Dick answered. "I have lost my way in the darkness," and without waiting he tried the door, and finding it unlocked, opened it. "Dick Rover!" The cry came from one of the occupants of the room, a tall, awkward-looking young man, much tanned by exposure, and with a pair of dark and wicked-looking eyes. "Great Scott!" gasped Dick, falling back a step. "Am I dreaming or is this really Dan Baxter?" "Oh. I'm Dan Baxter right enough," answered the former bully of Putnam Hall. "But--but I thought you were still on that island in the Pacific." "You wanted to see me end my days there, didn't you?" sneered Dan Baxter. Dick did not reply, for he was gazing at the other occupant of the room, a man with a short crop of hair and a short beard. "And your father, too!" he murmured. "Come in here," cried Arnold Baxter savagely and caught him by the arm. "Are you alone?" "Yes," answered Dick, before he had stopped to think twice. "Good enough. Come in," and Arnold Baxter continued to hold him. "He may be fooling us, dad," put in Dan Baxter. "The officers of the law may be with him." "Take a look around and see, Dan. I'll keep him here." "Let me go!" cried Dick, trying to break away. "Not much, Rover. You'll stay right where you are for the present," answered the older Baxter grimly. Dan had slipped out and he made a thorough search before returning to the cottage. In the meantime Dick was forced to sit down on a bench in a corner, while Arnold Baxter stood over him with a stout club. "This is getting interesting, to say the least," thought Dick. "I wish I hadn't come anywhere near the cottage." "Nobody around," announced Dan Baxter, as he came in and closed and locked the door. "Good," answered his father. He turned again to Dick. "Now, how comes it that you are wandering around here, Rover?" he went on. "I was trying to find my way back to camp and lost my way in the woods." "But your camp is on an island." "I know it. I was carried off by some students who were hazing me. They put a bag over my head and took me in a boat, and I got mixed up. "I hope they hazed you good," came from Dan Baxter with a malicious grin. "Thank you, Dan, you always were a real friend," returned Dick, as coolly as he could. "Oh, don't you come any of that game over me!" roared Dan Baxter. "I haven't forgotten the past, Dick Rover, and you'll find it out so before I get through with you. I was just hoping you or your precious brothers might drop into my arms." "What are you and your father doing here?" "That is my business," broke in Arnold Baxter. "I don't see why you fellows can't turn over a new leaf," went on Dick earnestly. "Oh, don't preach, Dick Rover," answered Dan Baxter. "You make me sick when you do that." "I suppose you find this a good hiding place." "It has been--up to now," said Arnold Baxter. "But since you have discovered us--" he did not finish. "We'll make him pay for it," said Dan Baxter. "I've been waiting to square accounts for a long time." "How did you escape from that island, Dan?" asked Dick curiously. "A ship came along about a week after you left it." "I see. And did you come right through to here?" "That is my business, Dick Rover. But I came to help my father, I don't mind telling you that." "Then you knew he had escaped from prison?" "From the hospital, yes." "And did you know he had robbed our house?" "He took what belonged to him, Dick Rover. Your folks robbed him of that mine in the West." "Well, I won't argue the point, Dan Baxter." Dick got up and moved toward the door. "I think I'll go." "Will you!" cried both of the Baxters, in a breath, and seizing him they forced him back into the corner. "Let us make him a prisoner," went on Dan Baxter, and this was speedily done by aid of a rope which the elder Baxter brought forth. Then Dick was thrown into a closet of an inner apartment and the door was locked upon him. CHAPTER XXIX TRUE HEROISM "Well, one thing is certain, I am much worse off now than I was when in the hands of Lew Flapp's crowd," thought Dick dismally, after trying in vain to break the bonds that bound him. The closet in which he was a prisoner was so small that he could scarcely turn himself. The door was a thick one, so to break it down was out of the question. "Stop your row in there!" called out Dan Baxter presently. "If you don't, I'll give you something you won't want." "How long are you going to keep me here?" "If you wait long enough you'll find out," was the unsatisfactory answer. "It won't do you any good to keep me a prisoner, Dan." "Won't it? Perhaps you think I'm going to let you go so that you can get the officers to arrest my father," sneered the younger Baxter. "They are bound to get him anyway, sooner or later." "They'll never get him if they don't catch him this week." "Why? Is he going to leave the country?" "That's his business, not yours," said Dan Baxter, and walked away. "It's too bad he turned up as he did," remarked Arnold Baxter, when he found himself alone with his son. "I thought I'd be safe here until I could slip over to Boston." "When does that steamer sail for Cape Town, Africa, dad?" "Tuesday or Wednesday of next week." "Then all we can do is to keep Dick Rover a prisoner until that time." "We can't do it, Dan. As soon as he is reported missing this whole vicinity will be searched." "Do you think they'll find this cottage?" "Perhaps, although so far I have not been disturbed." "Tom and Sam Rover came pretty close to locating you, didn't they?" "They came within half a mile of the spot. But I gave them the slip." "I wish I could square up with all of the Rovers," went on Dan Baxter savagely. "They have caused me no end of trouble." "Better leave them alone, Dan. Every time you try to do something you get your fingers burnt." To this the son could not answer, for he knew that his father spoke the truth. A long talk followed, and then Dan Baxter left, promising to return before noon of the next day. He was to proceed to a town about twelve miles away and there purchase for his father a new suit of clothing and a preparation for dyeing his hair and beard. With this disguise Arnold Baxter hoped to get away from the vicinity and reach Boston without being recognized. So far the night had been clear, but now a storm was brewing. From a great distance came a rumble of thunder and occasionally a glimpse of lightning lit up the landscape. "You'll have a bad journey of it," said Arnold Baxter to his son as the latter was leaving. "Reckon I'll have to make the best of it," answered Dan. "But I've got used to such things, since I've been knocking around the ocean and elsewhere." Left to himself, Arnold Baxter paced the floor of the cottage uneasily. Age was beginning to tell upon him and he was by no means the man he was when introduced to the Rovers years before. "I wish I was out of it," he murmured to himself. "I'd give a good deal to be on the ocean this minute, bound for some place where I can make a fresh start." The storm kept growing in violence until the cottage fairly shook from the fury of the wind. There was much thunder and lightning, with some crashing in the woods close at hand, that caused both Baxter and Dick to start in alarm. Dick was doing his best to free himself and at last managed to get one hand loose. He had already found that to attempt forcing the door was useless. Now he tried the walls of the closet and then the flooring and the ceiling. He was much gratified to find that the boards of the ceiling were not fastened down. With a great effort he managed to raise himself and after a minute of hard work found himself in the tiny loft of the cottage. Here the patter of the rain was strong and the water was leaking in everywhere. "I'll have to drop to the ground and run for it," he told himself, and crawled to where there was a tiny window just large enough to admit the passage of his body. It was no easy matter to get down to the ground with one hand still fastened behind him, and Dick made rather slow work of it. The rain beat in at the window, and soon he was soaked to the skin. Where to go next he did not know. To journey far in such a storm was entirely out of the question. Dick had hardly gotten to the edge of the woods when a blinding flash of lightning and a ripping crash of thunder fairly lifted him from his feet. "Oh!" he gasped, and staggered to a tree for support. "My, but that was close!" It was not until a moment later that he realized what had occurred. The lightning had struck the cottage, ripping off a corner of the roof and descending into the room below. The structure was now a mass of flames. "The cottage is on fire!" murmured the youth. "Wonder if the Baxters have been struck?" The wind quickly drove the fire in all directions until the cottage was in flames almost from end to end. Staggering from the effects of the shock, Dick drew closer to the building and then tried the door, to find it locked. "Help!" came faintly, in Arnold Baxter's voice. "Help!" "Open the door," returned Dick, forgetting that it was an enemy who was calling for assistance. "I--I cannot. I--I am helpless!" Again Dick tried the door, but without success. Then he leaped for the window. Some of the glass was broken, and with his naked fist he drove in the whole sash, and tore down the flapping curtain. The sight which met his gaze filled him with horror. The room was on fire in several places and in a corner, near the chimney piece, rested Arnold Baxter, pinned down by a section of brick and stonework that had fallen. He had been hit in the head, and from the wound the blood was flowing. "Rover, is that you?" he cried faintly. "Don't desert me!" Without replying, Dick began to crawl in through the broken window. The air was filled with smoke and he could scarcely see what he was doing. The sparks, too, were flying in all directions and only the wetness of his garments kept them from catching fire. He was soon at Arnold Baxter's side, and with his one free hand hurled the bricks and stones in all directions. As he worked the fire kept coming closer, until his face was fairly blistered by the conflagration. At last the man was free. But he could not raise himself up, and when Dick did it Arnold Baxter fell a limp form in his arm. He had fainted. Mustering up all the strength that remained to him, Dick dragged the unconscious man to the door. There was a bar to be flung aside and then Dick threw the barrier wide open. It was none too soon, for now the fire was swirling in all directions. Staggering beneath his burden the youth hurried into the open and then fell flat, with Arnold Baxter beside him. "What a close call!" murmured Dick, when he was able to rise. He felt weak in the knees, and his hands and face smarted from the blistering received. He looked at Arnold Baxter. The man had not yet recovered and looked to be more dead than alive. Dick remembered having crossed a brook but a short distance away, and to this he went and bathed his burns and brought some water back for Arnold Baxter. His other hand had now become free, so he could work to much better advantage. "He has been seriously hurt, that is certain," thought the youth. "Perhaps he breathed in some of the flames. If he did that he may never get over it." Left to itself the cottage burnt to the ground and then the falling rain put out the hissing embers. In the meantime Dick did what he could to restore Arnold Baxter to consciousness, and at last had the satisfaction of seeing the man open his eyes. "Oh!" murmured the man. "The fire--" "You are out of it," answered Dick soothingly. "Did you--did you haul me out?" "Yes." "It was good of you to do it, Rover," said Arnold Baxter, and then he fainted once more. CHAPTER XXX TURNING A NEW LEAF--CONCLUSION The night was a long one for Dick Rover and he was glad when the storm cleared away and the first streaks of dawn began to show themselves in the eastern sky. Arnold Baxter had recovered consciousness, but was evidently in great pain, for he moaned almost constantly. Dick was willing to aid the sufferer, yet could do little or nothing. "Tell me the way to our camp and I will get help," said Dick at last. And Arnold Baxter gave him the directions as best he could. "I must have a doctor," whispered the man hoarsely. "If not, I'll surely die. And I don't want to die yet, Rover!" As well as he was able, Dick set off for the lake shore and then began to move in the direction of Bass Island. He had not gone very far when he heard somebody calling his name. "Rover! Dick Rover!" was the cry. "Dick Rover!" "It must be a searching party," he thought, and he was right. The party contained Tom and Sam, and Mr. Strong, and they said that two other parties were out, one headed by Captain Putnam and the other by an assistant. "Where in the world have you been?" asked Tom. "We have been scared almost to death over your absence." "It's a long story," answered Dick. "What I want just now is a doctor and a lot of salve. Just look at me, will you?" "Blisters!" ejaculated Sam. "Where did you get those?" "In a fire that nearly burnt Arnold Baxter to death. I want the doctor for him." And then Dick had to tell the particulars of how he had run across the cottage in the woods and of what had followed. "And Dan Baxter is here!" ejaculated Tom. "It doesn't seem possible." "He ought to be locked up," put in Sam. It was decided by Mr. Strong that Arnold Baxter should be removed to the camp on a stretcher, and four boys, including Sam and Tom, volunteered for the service. In the meantime Dick went to camp, to attend to his hurts, and a cadet was sent to Oakville for a doctor. "Hullo, here comes Rover!" whispered Lew Flapp to Pender, as Dick appeared. "Wonder what sort of a story he will have to tell?" "One thing is certain, we made a mess of our plans," muttered Pender. "Perhaps Rover won't give us away," put in Rockley hopefully. On returning to camp word had been sent to Captain Putnam that Dick Rover was at the den in a condition not fit to be seen. Mr. Strong and another teacher had gone to the place mentioned in the anonymous communication only to find the den empty. A general alarm was sent out, and the search for the missing captain of Company A was begun as recorded. Captain Putnam also began to investigate on his private account, with results that were as surprising as they were dismaying. He learned the several cadets had left camp early in the night and among them Ben Hurdy, Lew Flapp, Pender, and Jackson. Without delay he summoned Ben Hurdy to his private tent and made the young cadet undergo a strict cross-examination. At first Hurdy would not talk, but soon he became frightened and broke down utterly. He told of the plot against Dick, and of how Flapp and the others had carried it out. "I didn't want to go into it," he whined. "But Flapp said he would thrash me if I didn't do my share. They wanted to get square with Captain Rover because he had won at the athletic contests and at the drill." "I see," said Captain Putnam grimly, and then he ordered Ben Hurdy to keep absolutely silent until called on to speak. "If you say a word now I'll dismiss you at once," he concluded. When Dick arrived Captain Putnam saw to it that his blisters were dressed with care, and then he asked the eldest Rover to tell his whole story. "I do not know as I can do that, Captain Putnam," said the young captain, blushing. "I don't care to become a tale-bearer." "Did you leave camp of your own free will, Rover?" "I did not, sir." "You were carried away to be hazed, then?" "Yes, sir; but I would prefer not to speak of that part of my adventures." "Those who carried you off drugged you." "How do you know that?" asked Dick, in surprise. "Never mind that now, Rover. Did they drug you or not?" "No, sir." "What!" "They tried to drug me, but I threw the liquor over my shoulder when they weren't looking." "Oh, I see," and Captain Putnam smiled. "They tried to trick you and you ended by tricking them, is that it?" "That's about the size of it, sir. They thought I was in a stupor when they left me, but as soon as they were gone I began to shift for myself. But I don't understand how you know about this, Captain Putnam." "One of the party to this outrage has confessed, so I know all about it, Rover. The leader, I believe, was Lew Flapp, and his main supporters were Pender, Rockley, and Jackson." To this Dick did not say a word. "I know you would speak if I were accusing anybody wrongly, Rover. In one way I can appreciate your silence. But this affair was carried too far. It was not an ordinary hazing. The plot was one to blast your honest name and bring you into disgrace. Such things cannot be permitted at any school of which I am the head. I will hear the rest of your strange tale." In as few words as possible Dick told how he had wandered around until he had reached the cottage, and what had happened afterward. "It was assuredly a remarkable adventure," said Captain Putnam. "I thought I had about seen the last of Daniel Baxter." "Perhaps Dan Baxter will keep shady when he finds out what has happened." "Perhaps. And you think Arnold Baxter is in a bad way?" "Yes, sir. He came pretty close to being burnt up." "We will do our best for him, and notify the authorities without delay." An hour later the disabled man was brought into camp and the doctor came to attend him. Under the physician's directions Arnold Baxter was made fairly comfortable in one of the tents of the camp. "He is in a bad way," said the doctor. "He will probably recover, but it will take weeks and perhaps months." Arnold Baxter asked for Dick and the eldest Rover went in to see him. "I--I want to thank you for what you did, Rover," said the criminal in a low voice. "It--it was noble, very noble. I shan't forget it." "Mr. Baxter, why don't you try to turn over a new leaf?" questioned Dick. "Haven't you found out that it doesn't pay to be bad?" "Yes, I have found it out, and the lesson has been dearly bought," said Arnold Baxter with a sigh. "In the future I shall try to--to do better. Here, I want you to give these to your father, and tell him I--I am sorry that I visited your house some time ago," went on the disabled man. He gave Dick an envelope containing some pawn tickets which called for the things stolen from the Rover homestead, and also a pocketbook with some money in it. "That is all I have left of the cash," he said. "I'm sorry I haven't every cent of it. Tell him he can do as he pleases about me. I deserve no pity." "I think he'd like to see you turn over a new leaf, too. He hates to see people on the downward path, Mr. Baxter." "You are a good boy, Dick Rover. I am sorry that my son Dan isn't like you. Has he been caught yet?" "I believe not." "If he is caught, let me know," concluded Arnold Baxter, and there the talk ended. "I imagine he really intends to turn over a new leaf," said Dick to Tom and Sam, a little later. "Hope he does," replied Tom. "So do I," added Sam. Let me add a few words more and then bring this story of life in camp to a conclusion. On the day following Dick's return to camp Captain Putnam summoned Lew Flapp, Pender, Rockley, and Jackson before him. "I presume you know why I have sent for you," said the captain briefly. "Since the disappearance of Captain Rover I have been making an investigation. Rover himself would not talk, but others have spoken, and Rover has not denied the truth. All of you have been guilty of such serious misconduct that to overlook it would be almost criminal on my part." "What have I done?" asked Lew Flapp brazenly. "You have earned your dismissal from Putnam Hall, Flapp, and you leave this camp as soon as arrangements can be made." "Going to fire me out, eh?" "You are dismissed. I will not allow such a boy as you to mingle longer with the rest of my pupils." "What are you going to do with the others? I wasn't to blame alone." "Pender, Rockley, and Jackson shall go, too. The others, including Hurdy, shall have another chance, for I believe they were dragged into the affair unwillingly by you and your particular cronies." "If we have got to go, don't let's listen to any more gas," growled Rockley, and stalked away with a very white face, followed by Flapp. Pender and Jackson pleaded for another chance, but Captain Putnam would not listen, and in the end the evil-minded cadets had to leave the school, never to return. "Putnam Hall is well rid of that crowd," said Songbird Powell, and the majority of the students agreed with him. Munro Staton, the local constable, was much chagrined to think that he had not had a hand in finding Arnold Baxter, and he at once set out to locate Dan. But Dan Baxter knew enough to leave the vicinity, and that was the last heard of him for some time. Through the pawn tickets given to Dick, Mr. Anderson Rover recovered the spoons, napkin rings and other things taken from the homestead by Arnold Baxter. Mr. Rover visited Baxter before the latter was returned to the hospital from which he had escaped. "I believe the man really intends to reform," said Anderson Rover afterwards. "But he is in a bad condition physically and may die before his term of imprisonment is at an end." "I hope he lives," said Sam. "I'd like to see him lead an upright, honest life." "I don't think we'll be bothered much with Dan Baxter after this," said Tom, but he was mistaken, Dan Baxter bothered them a great deal, and so did Lew Flapp, and how will be told in the next volume of this series, to be entitled, "The Rover Boys on the River; Or, The Search for the Missing Houseboat," in which we shall meet our old friends in a series of adventures as interesting as those already related. As was the custom at Putnam Hall the encampment came to an end on the Fourth of July. This was a gala day for the cadets and they were allowed to invite both friends and relatives to the affair. The Rover boys had the Statons over and also had their father and their Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha participate. "Never saw such a time in my life!" declared Aunt Martha. "Music and marching, and such fireworks! And such a spread out under the trees! No wonder our boys like to go to Putnam Hall." "It's a good place for them," came from the father of the boys. "It is making good men of them." After the fireworks big bonfires were lit, and the cadets were allowed to do pretty much as they pleased. As they gathered around the largest of the fires all joined hands in a big circle, and it was Tom who started the Putnam Hall cheer: "Zip, boom, bang! Ding, dong! Ding, dong! Boom, bang, bang! Hurrah for Putnam Hall!" "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" came from all sides; and here let us say good-by. 
22163	----	file was produced from scans of public domain material produced by Microsoft for their Live Search Books site.) THE ROVER BOYS ON THE FARM OR _LAST DAYS AT PUTNAM HALL_ BY ARTHUR M. WINFIELD (Edward Stratemeyer) AUTHOR OF THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL. THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN, THE PUTNAM HALL SERIES, Etc. _ILLUSTRATED_ NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS Made in the United States of America [Illustration: ONE HORSE REARED AND TRIED TO BACK.] PREFACE. MY DEAR BOYS: With this I present to you "The Rover Boys on the Farm," the twelfth volume in the "Rover Boys Series for Young Americans." It is a large number of volumes to write about one set of characters, isn't it? When I started the series, many years ago, I had in mind, as I have told you before, to pen three books, possibly four. But as soon as I had written "The Rover Boys at School," "The Rover Boys on the Ocean," and "The Rover Boys in the Jungle," there was a cry for more, and so I wrote "The Rover Boys Out West," "On the Great Lakes," "In the Mountains," "On Land and Sea," "In Camp," "On the River," "On the Plains," and then "In Southern Waters," where we last left our heroes. In the present story, as promised in the last volume, the scene is shifted back to the farm and to dear old Putnam Hall, with their many pleasant associations. As before, Sam, Tom and Dick are to the front, along with several of their friends, and there are a number of adventures, some comical and some strange and mystifying. At the school the rivalries are as keen as ever, but the Rover boys are on their mettle, and prove their worth on more than one occasion. Again I thank my numerous readers for all the kind words they have spoken about my stories. I hope the present volume will please them in every way. Affectionately and sincerely yours, EDWARD STRATEMEYER CONTENTS. I. SOMETHING ABOUT THE ROVER BOYS II. WHAT HAPPENED ON THE MOUNTAIN III. A MYSTERIOUS CAVE IV. AT THE FARM V. RANDOLPH ROVER'S STORY VI. WAITING FOR NEWS VII. A STRANGE LETTER BOX VIII. LAST DAYS ON THE FARM IX. AT THE WILD WEST SHOW X. JOLLY OLD SCHOOLMATES XI. WILLIAM PHILANDER TUBBS XII. WHAT HAPPENED ON THE STAIRS XIII. DORA, GRACE AND NELLIE XIV. AT THE ICE-CREAM ESTABLISHMENT XV. AN ASTONISHING GIFT XVI. THE HUNT FOR A SNAKE XVII. A STIRRING SCENE IN THE SCHOOLROOM XVIII. IN WHICH TAD SOBBER DISAPPEARS XIX. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE PARTY XX. DICK AND DORA XXI. A BOB SLED RACE XXII. PELEG SNUGGERS' QUEER RIDE XXIII. HOLIDAYS AT THE FARM XXIV. A CAPTURE AND A SURPRISE XXV. CHRISTMAS AT THE FARM XXVI. THE SKATING RACE XXVII. ON THE LAKE XXVIII. AT THE OLD HOUSE XXIX. A WRECK AND A CAPTURE XXX. GOOD-BYE TO PUTNAM HALL THE ROVER BOYS ON THE FARM CHAPTER I SOMETHING ABOUT THE ROVER BOYS "Sam, this isn't the path." "I know it, Tom." "We've missed our way," went on Tom Rover, with a serious look on his usually sunny face. "It looks that way to me," answered Sam Rover, his younger brother. "I think we made a wrong turn after we slid down the cliff." "What is keeping Dick?" "I don't know." "Let's call to him," went on Tom, and set up a loud cry, in which his brother joined. The pair listened intently, but no answer came back. "I don't like this," said Sam, an anxious look in his clear eyes. "Maybe Dick is in trouble." "Perhaps so," answered Tom Rover. The two boys were far up on a mountainside, and all around them were tall trees, thick brushwood, and immense ridges of rocks. It had been a clear, sunshiny day, but now the sky was overcast, and it looked like rain. "We've got to go back for Dick," said Tom, after a painful pause. "No use of going on without him." "I hope he hasn't fallen over some cliff and hurt himself," returned his younger brother. "I don't see why he doesn't answer us, if he's all right," was the unsatisfactory reply. "Come on, or the storm will overtake us before we get down from the mountain and we'll be soaked by the time we reach home." Side by side the brothers retraced their steps--a hard task, for it is much easier to climb down a steep mountainside than to climb up. To those who have read the previous volumes in this "Rover Boys Series," the two brothers just mentioned will need no special introduction. The Rover boys were three in number, Dick being the oldest, fun-loving Tom coming next, and Sam bringing up the rear. All were bright, lively, up-to-date lads, and honest and manly to the core. They lived on a farm called Valley Brook, in New York state,--a beautiful spot owned by their uncle, Randolph Rover, and his wife, Martha. Their father, Anderson Rover, also lived at the farm when at home, but he was away a great deal on business. From the farm the boys had been sent, some years before, to Putnam Hall, an ideal place of learning, of which we shall learn more as our tale proceeds. What the lads did there on their arrival has already been related in "The Rover Boys at School," the first volume of this series. A short term at Putnam Hall was followed by a trip on the ocean, and then a long journey to the jungles of Africa, in search of Anderson Rover, who had disappeared. Then came a grand outing out west, and another outing on the great lakes, followed by some stirring adventures in the mountains of New York state. Coming from the mountains, the three youths had expected to go back to Putnam Hall at once, but fate ordained otherwise and they were cast away in the Pacific Ocean, as related in "The Rover Boys on Land and Sea." They had a hard task of it getting home, and then returned to the school and had some splendid times while in camp with the other cadets. When vacation was once more at hand the boys soon solved the problem of what to do. Their Uncle Randolph had taken a houseboat for debt. The craft was located on the Ohio River, and it was resolved to make a trip down the Mississippi. "It will be the best ever!" Tom declared, and they started with much enthusiasm, taking with them "Songbird" Powell, a school chum addicted to the making of doggerel which he called poetry, Fred Garrison, a plucky boy who had stood by them through thick and thin, and Hans Mueller, a German youth who was still struggling with the mysteries of the English tongue. With the boys went an old friend, Mrs. Stanhope, and her sister, Mrs. Laning. With Mrs. Stanhope was her only daughter Dora, whom Dick Rover considered the sweetest girl in the whole world, and Mrs. Laning had with her two daughters, Grace and Nellie, especial friends of Sam and Dick. The trip on the houseboat proved a long and eventful one, and during that time the boys and their company fell in with Dan Baxter, Lew Flapp and several other enemies. On the Mississippi the craft was damaged, and while it was being repaired the party took a trip inland, as related in "The Rover Boys on the Plains." Then the houseboat was stolen, and what this led to has been related in detail in "The Rover Boys in Southern Waters." In that volume they brought to book several of the rascals who had annoyed them, and they caused Dan Baxter to feel so ashamed of himself that the bully made up his mind to reform. Tired out from their long trip, the Rover boys were glad enough to get back home again. For nearly a week their friends remained with them at Valley Brook farm and then they departed, the Stanhopes and Lanings for their homes and Fred, Hans and Songbird for Putnam Hall. "Of course you're coming back to the Hall?" Fred had said on leaving. "Coming back?" had been Tom's answer. "Why, you couldn't keep us away with a Gatling gun!" "To be sure we'll be back," answered Dick Rover. "And we'll have the greatest times ever," chimed in Sam. "I am fairly aching to see the dear old school again." "And Captain Putnam, and all the rest," continued Tom. "And have some fun, eh, Tom?" and Sam poked his fun-loving brother in the ribs. "Well, when we go back we've got to do some studying," Dick had put in. "Do you know what father said yesterday?" "No, what?" came simultaneously from his brothers. "He said we were getting too old to go to Putnam Hall--that we ought to be thinking of going to college, or of getting into business." "Hum!" murmured Tom, and he became suddenly thoughtful. "I know why he said that," said Sam, with a wink at his big brother. "He knows how sweet Dick is on Dora, and----" "Hi! you let up!" cried Dick, his face reddening. "It wasn't that at all. We are getting pretty old for Putnam Hall, and you know it." "It seems I'd never want to leave the dear old school," murmured Tom. "Why, it's like a second home to us. Think of all the jolly times we've had there--and the host of friends we've made." "And the enemies," added Sam. "Don't forget them, or they may feel slighted." "Dan Baxter was our worst enemy in that school, and he is going to reform, Sam." "Perhaps. I won't feel sure of it until I really see it," answered the youngest Rover. "By the way, I got a postal from Dan to-day," said Dick. "He is in Philadelphia, and working for a carpet manufacturer." "Well, if he's gone to work, that's a good sign," said Tom. On their arrival at the farm the boys had been met by their father, but now Anderson Rover had gone away on a business trip which was to last for several days. As usual, he left the lads in charge of his brother and the boys' aunt. "Now just take it easy for awhile," was Mr. Rover's advice, on leaving. "Rest up all you can, and then, when you go back to the school, you'll feel as bright as a dollar." "Silver or paper, dad?" asked Tom, mischievously. "Now, Tom----" "Oh, I know what you mean, dad, and I'll be as quiet as a mule with a sandbag tied to his tail," answered the fun-loving offspring. The day after Anderson Rover's departure from the farm was quiet enough, but on the morning following the boys' uncle received a letter in the mail which seemed to trouble him not a little. "I must attend to this matter without delay," said Randolph Rover to his wife. "What is wrong, Randolph?" "I don't think I can explain to you, Martha. It's about those traction company bonds I purchased a few months ago." "Those you paid ten thousand dollars for?" "Yes." "What about them?" "As I said before, I can't explain--it is rather a complicated affair." "They are yours, aren't they, Randolph?" "Oh, yes. But----" "Aren't they worth what you gave for them?" "I hope so." "Can't you find out and make sure?" "That is what I am going to do," replied Randolph Rover, and heaved a deep sigh. As my old readers know, he was a very retired individual, given to scientific research, especially in regard to farming, and knew little about business. "If you've been swindled in any way, you must go after the men who sold you the bonds," said Mrs. Rover. "We cannot afford to lose so much money." "I don't believe I've been swindled--at least, if I have, I think the party who sold me the bonds will make them good, Martha. I'll know all about it to-morrow," answered Randolph Rover, and there the conversation came to an end. CHAPTER II WHAT HAPPENED ON THE MOUNTAIN It was on the day that Randolph Rover was to go to the town of Carwell, fifteen miles away, to see about the bonds, that the three Rover boys planned for a day's outing. "Let us go to the top of Chase Mountain," suggested Sam. "I haven't been up there for three years." "Second the suggestion," replied Tom. "We can take a lunch along and make a day of it," and so it was arranged. Chase Mountain was about three miles away, on the other side of Humpback Falls, where Sam had once had such a stirring adventure, as told in detail in "The Rover Boys at School." It was a ragged eminence, and from the top a view could be had of the country for many miles around. The day seemed to be a perfect one when the three youths started, and when they reached the top of the mountain they enjoyed the vast panorama spread before them. They likewise enjoyed the substantial lunch their Aunt Martha had provided, and ate until Tom was ready to "bust his buttons," as he expressed it. "Let us try a new path down," said Sam, when it came time to go home, and he and Tom led the way, over a series of rocky ridges and cliffs anything but easy to traverse. In some places they had to drop ten and fifteen feet, and once Tom came down on his ankle in a manner that made him cry with pain. "You look out for yourself," warned Dick. "If you sprain an ankle up here we'll have a job of it getting you home." "No sprained ankle for mine, thank you," replied Tom. And he was more careful after that. As Dick came after his brothers he saw something peculiar at one side of the path he was pursuing. It appeared to be a tin lunch box suspended from a tree limb by a bit of wire. The box was painted red and seemed to be new. "That's strange," said the eldest Rover boy to himself. "Who would leave such a thing as that in that position? I'll have to investigate." Without telling Sam and Tom what he was going to do, Dick left the path and plunged into the bushes which grew between himself and the tree from which the tin box was suspended. Among the bushes the footing was uncertain, and hardly had he taken a dozen steps when he felt himself sinking. "Hi! this won't do!" he cried in alarm, and then plunged down into a big hole, some bushes, moss and dead leaves coming down on top of him. In the meantime, Sam and Tom had gone on. Coming to where the path appeared to divide, they turned to the right, only to find, five minutes later, that they had made a mistake. "Where in the world can Dick be?" murmured Sam, after he and his brother had called again. "I thought he was right behind us." "So did I, Sam. It's mighty queer what's become of him. If he fell over a cliff----" Tom did not finish, but heaved a deep sigh. With anxious hearts the two boys endeavored to retrace their steps up the mountainside. They had to climb up one of the cliffs, and just as this was accomplished it began to rain. "More bad luck," grumbled Sam. "If this keeps on we'll soon be soaked." "Spit, spat, spo! Where did that mountain path go!" cried Tom, repeating a doggerel often used by children. "Dick! Dick!" he yelled, at the top of his lungs. Then Sam joined in the call once again. But as before, there was no answer. It must be confessed that the two Rover boys were now thoroughly alarmed. As they had climbed up the mountainside they knew they must be close to the spot where they had last seen Dick. What had become of their big brother? "Tom, do you think he could have fallen over some cliff and rolled to the bottom of the mountain?" questioned Sam, anxiously. "How could he roll to the bottom with the trees so thick? He would have plenty of chance to catch hold of one of them." "Not if he was knocked unconscious." "Well, where can he be?" "I don't know." It was now raining steadily, and to protect themselves the two boys pulled their caps well down over their heads and turned up their coat collars. They came to a halt under the wide-spreading branches of a hemlock tree. "It beats the nation, that's what it does," declared Tom. "Maybe the earth opened and swallowed him up!" "Tom, this is no joke." "And I'm not joking, Sam. I can't understand it at all." "Is that the path over yonder?" continued the youngest Rover, pointing to a spot beyond the opposite side of the hemlock tree. "It looks a little like it," was Tom's reply. "Might as well go over and make sure." Leaving the shelter of the tree, they made their way through the bushes, which were now beginning to drip from the rain. As they progressed Sam pushed a big branch from him and let it swing back suddenly, thereby catching Tom full in the face. "Wow!" spluttered the fun-loving Rover, as he staggered back. "Hi! Sam, do you think I need a shower bath? I'm wet enough already." And Tom commenced to brush the water from his face. "I didn't mean to let it slip," answered Sam. "But say----" What Sam was going to say further will never be known, for just then he felt himself slipping down into some sort of a hole. He tried to leap back, and made a clutch at Tom's legs, and the next instant both rolled over and over and shot downward, out of the daylight into utter darkness. They were taken so completely by surprise that neither said a word. Over and over they went, a shower of dirt, sticks and dead leaves coming after them. Then they brought up on a big pile of decayed leaves and lay there, the breath all but knocked out of them. "Wha--what--where are we?" gasped Sam, when he felt able to speak. "Say, is thi--this a ne--new shoot-the--the--chutes?" asked Tom who was bound to have his fun no matter what occurred. "Are you hurt?" "I don't think I am, but I reckon my liver turned over about ten times. How about you?" "Shook up, that's all," answered Sam, after rising to his feet. "Say, we came down in a hurry, didn't we?" "Yes, and got no return ticket either." Tom looked upward. "Gracious! the top of this hole is about fifty feet away! We are lucky that we didn't break our necks!" "Now we are down here, the question is, How do we get out, Tom?" "Don't ask me any conundrums." "We've got to get out somehow." "Unless we want to stay here and save the expense of a cemetery lot." "Tom!" "Oh, I know it's no joke, Sam. But what is there to do? Here's a hole at least fifty feet deep and the sides are almost perpendicular. Do you think we can climb up? I am afraid, if we try it, we'll end by breaking our necks." "It certainly is steep," answered the youngest brother, looking upward. "Say!" he added, suddenly, "do you suppose Dick went down in some such hole as this?" "Perhaps; where there is one hole there may be more. If he went down let us hope he didn't get killed." As well as they were able, the two boys gazed around them. The hole was irregular in form, but about fifteen feet in diameter. One side was of rough rocks and the other dirt and tree roots. At the top the treacherous bushes overhung all sides of the opening, partly concealing the yawning pit below. "The rain is coming in pretty lively," was Sam's comment, presently. "I wonder if there is any danger of this hole filling up with water." "I don't think so, but if it does we can swim out." "Or get drowned." "Now who is getting blue?" demanded Tom. To keep out of the worst of the rain Sam leaned against one of the sides of the hole. He felt it give beneath his weight and before he could save himself he went down into another hole, and Tom came after him. The boys were scared and both cried out lustily. They did not fall far, however--in fact, they rather rolled, for the second opening was on a slant of forty-five degrees. They brought up against something soft, but this time it was not a bank of decayed leaves. "Sam! And Tom!" "Dick!" "Where did you come from?" "How did you get here?" "Are you hurt?" "No, are you?" "No." These were some of the questions asked and answered as the three Rover boys stared at each other. Other questions quickly followed, and Dick told how he had started to get the tin box and gone down so unexpectedly. "You want to be careful," he cautioned. "This mountainside is full of holes and pitfalls. I came down one hole and then shot right into another." "And we did the same thing!" cried Tom. "Thank heaven none of us have broken bones!" "Didn't you hear us call to you?" asked the youngest Rover. "I thought I heard something--but I was not sure. I called back." "We didn't hear you," answered Tom. Dick had been trying to get out of the hole into which he had tumbled, but without success. Now the sides were growing slippery from the rain, so the ascent became more difficult than ever. "We're in a pickle," sighed Sam. "Oh, we've got to get out somehow," answered his big brother. "We can't stay here forever." The opening was almost square, with three sides of rough rock. In trying to climb up some of the rocks Tom gave one a shove and it slid from sight, revealing an opening beyond. "Hullo! another hole!" cried the youth, leaping back in consternation. "Why, the old mountain is fairly honeycombed with them." "I was never on this side of the mountain before," said Dick. "They used to tell some queer stories about this side." "Didn't they say some parts were haunted?" asked Sam. "Yes, and it was said that, years ago, many travelers coming this way disappeared." "Well, why shouldn't they, with so many holes around?" came from Tom. "If we get out alive we'll be lucky." With great care they got down on their hands and knees and examined the opening beyond the rocks. "I believe it's a big cave," announced Dick a few minutes later. "And if it is, I'm rather inclined to look around inside. Perhaps it will lead to some opening on the mountainside where we can get out." CHAPTER III A MYSTERIOUS CAVE At first Sam and Tom demurred to entering the cave--which looked dark and forbidding. But Dick insisted that he was going ahead, and rather than be left behind they went along. "We'll light some kind of a torch," said the eldest Rover. "Got some matches?" "Yes, I brought along a pocketful," answered Sam. "Didn't know but what we'd want to build a campfire this noon." "We'll want one now--to dry our clothing by," said Tom. "Let us pick up the driest of the sticks." This they did, and having entered the cave, they made a good-sized blaze. This sent a ruddy glow around the cavern, and as the boys moved about fantastic shadows went dancing on the rocky walls, adding to the weirdness of the scene. From the fire each of the youths provided himself with a torch, and thus equipped they moved around the cave with care, taking precautions not to fall into any more holes. They soon found the opening on the mountainside long and narrow and running downward. "We don't want to get lost," cautioned Sam. "Oh, we can always go back to the fire," answered Dick. "Unless it goes out on us." "It won't burn itself out for an hour--I saw to that before we left it." As the boys advanced into the cave they came across a heap of bones. Dick examined them carefully. "Skeletons?" queried Sam, and his voice trembled slightly. "Yes--of lambs and pigs," was the dry answer. "Somebody has been making this a rendezvous and living on the fat of the land." "Maybe that accounts for Jerry Burden's losses," suggested Tom. "He said he lost a lamb last spring, and two pigs." "Yes, and old Richard Feltham lost a pig and some chickens," added Dick. "Maybe this has been a hangout for tramps." "Do you think they are here still?" questioned Sam. "We don't want to have any trouble." "I am sure I don't know, Sam. But this proves one thing." "That we can get out of the cave?" "Exactly. See, here is an old coat and a pair of old shoes. Somebody has been in the habit of coming here--and he wasn't in the habit of getting in the way we got in." They moved on, and soon reached a larger opening. Here they found a bit of old harness and, further on, where the ground was soft, the tracks of wagon wheels. "Somebody has been in the habit of driving right in here!" exclaimed Tom. "We are sure to get out!" and his face showed his relief. "Hark! what's that?" cried Sam, and shrank back as a strange rumbling was heard. "Is it an earthquake, or a landslide?" "It's thunder, that's all," said Dick, a minute later, as they listened. "To be sure--the storm was on us when we fell into the first hole," answered the youngest Rover. "Perhaps we can be glad we are under shelter--if the storm is going to be a bad one," came from Tom. "But, come on, I want to see daylight again." He moved on and then gave a cry of astonishment. "Look!" His brothers did so. On one side of the cave were piled thirty or forty packing cases. The majority of them were empty, but three, directed to one Jackson Dwight, Carwell, were full and nailed up. "Well, I never!" murmured Sam. "Dick----" "The freight thieves!" ejaculated the eldest Rover. "Don't you remember what was in the paper before we went south, and what was in again only yesterday? They have been missing freight from Carwell and Boxton and half a dozen other stations for over a year. The thieves must have brought their stuff here and then taken some of it from the packing cases and carted it away again." "It certainly looks like it," answered Tom. "Only three full cases left. I wonder when these were taken?" "Most likely only a short time ago," said Dick. "The cases look new." "Do you suppose any of the freight thieves are around? If they are we want to keep out of their way--if they are desperate characters." They moved on, and then Dick called a sudden halt. "I can see daylight ahead," he said. "And somebody is moving around. Let us put out the torches." His suggestion was speedily followed, and the three Rover boys advanced with caution. At its outer end the cave became broader while the roof was only about ten feet high. "Hullo, here's another surprise," whispered Dick, as they came closer to the opening. "Look at that!" He pointed to one side of the cave and there the others saw an automobile runabout standing and on the seat two men dressed for a tour. They were talking to a third man, who was lounging against a front wheel, smoking a brier-root pipe. "Maybe they are the freight thieves," whispered Tom. "Let us get out of sight and listen to what they have to say." It was an easy matter to keep out of sight, for the walls of the cave were very uneven at this point. They got behind a projection, and by crawling up a rocky ledge managed to reach a point above and to one side of the runabout and not over a dozen feet from it. "Then you weren't going to stop here, Merrick?" asked the man leaning against the wheel. "Not now, Dangler," was the reply of the man with the pipe. "The storm drove us in here." "When do you expect to meet this Randolph Rover?" "Very soon." "He ought to be easy--he is so simple minded." "Oh, I think we can work him right enough," put in the third man, who was tall and thin-cheeked. "Well, if you do, don't forget that I get my share, Pike," said the man called Dangler. "Haven't you always gotten your share?" demanded Pike. "I suppose I have." "And haven't we given you the information whenever any valuable freight was coming this way?" put in the man called Merrick. "Yes, and got your full share of the proceeds, while I ran the risk," growled Dangler. "It's getting dangerous--I'm going to quit--after the next big haul," went on the man with the pipe. "All right--as you wish," answered Merrick. "I wish this storm would let up. The road will be something fierce for our runabout." "And bad for my wagon," growled Dangler in return. The boys listened to the conversation with deep interest. The reference to their uncle amazed them, and they wondered what the two men in the runabout had in mind to do. By their talk it was evident they meant to accomplish something unlawful. "They are going to play Uncle Randolph some trick," whispered Sam. "We must get home and warn him." "What we ought to do is to have the whole crowd arrested," answered Tom. "They are all implicated in the theft of freight." "That's the talk," said Dick. "The question is, How can we do it? We are no match for those three men, and more than likely they are armed." After this the three men conversed in such a low tone the boys could not hear a quarter of what was said. But they learned enough to know that Merrick and Pike were going to meet their uncle and play him false in some way, and they heard the words "traction bonds" and "coupons" several times. "Uncle Randolph had ten thousand dollars' worth of traction company bonds," said Dick. "He bought them only a short while ago. They pay five and a half per cent. interest and he thought them a first-class investment." "Oh, we'll have to warn him," said Sam. "He is so open-hearted he would trust most anybody." Merrick had descended from the runabout and gone out of the cave. Now he came back, said something to the others, and started up the auto. In another moment he had the machine turned around. Then it spun out of the cave and down a fairly good road in the direction of Carwell. The man named Dangler followed the runabout to the road and watched it disappear around a turn bordered by trees. The storm was now rolling away to the westward and the rain had ceased. "They have gone!" cried Tom. "Where to?" "Perhaps to our farm--to see Uncle Randolph," answered Sam. "We ought to follow them as quickly as we can." "I think we had better capture the fellow left behind," said Dick. "We ought to be able to do it." "That's the talk," said Tom. "Sure we can do it, being three to one." Dangler watched the runabout and then gazed up and down the mountain for several minutes. Then of a sudden he started in a direction opposite to that taken by the machine. "He is going away!" cried Sam. "Come on after him!" called his big brother, and ran from the cave with the others at his heels. Just as he did this Dangler glanced back and saw them. "Hey, you!" he cried in consternation. "Stop!" called out Dick. "We want you." At this command Dangler was more amazed than ever. But of a sudden he appeared to realize something of what had happened and commenced to run. "Stop!" cried Tom and Sam, but at this the man only ran the faster. "Come on--we've got to catch that rascal!" exclaimed Dick, and started to sprint. The others followed as quickly as they could, and a rapid chase along the mountain road ensued. But if the boys could run so could the freight robber, and he made the best possible use of his legs until he gained a side trail. Then he darted into this, and when the Rover boys came up he had disappeared. "Where is he?" panted Sam. "He took to this path, but he isn't in sight," answered Dick. He was almost winded himself. "Come on, he must be somewhere around," put in Tom, and ran down the path several hundred feet. Then he tripped over a fallen log and went headlong in the bushes and wet grass. He got up looking tired out and cross. "We've missed him," announced Dick, rather dismally. "It's a pity, too. He deserves to be put under arrest." "I think we had better get home and warn Uncle Randolph," returned Sam. "If we don't there is no telling what that fellow Merrick and that Pike may do." CHAPTER IV AT THE FARM The others considered Sam's advice good, and after another look around for Dangler, they turned in the direction of home. They were a good three miles from the farm and had to cross the river above the falls, thus adding half a mile more to the journey. It was wet and muddy walking and they had not covered over a mile when Tom called a halt. "I am about fagged out," he announced. "Wonder if we can't hire a buggy at the next farmhouse." "We can try anyway," answered Dick. Directly after crossing the river they came to a small farmhouse, and walked around to the kitchen, where they saw an old woman shelling peas. "We can't let you have any carriage," she said. "The men folks are to town and they've got the horses." The boys were about to turn away when Dick thought of something. "By the way, do you know a man named Dangler?" he asked. "Sure, I do," was the answer. "Does he live around here?" "I guess he lives where he pleases. He is an old bachelor and comes and goes as he likes. He used to have a cottage down the pike, but it burnt down last winter." "Then you haven't any idea where he is stopping now?" "No." "Do you know a man named Merrick and another man named Pike?" went on the eldest Rover boy. At this the old woman shook her head. "Never heard tell of them," she said. "Has this Dangler any relatives around here?" asked Tom. "None that I know of." "Do you know what kind of man he is?" asked Sam. "I never talk about my neighbors," answered the old woman, and drew up her thin lips and went on shelling peas. Feeling it would be useless to ask any more questions, the three boys journeyed wearily on to the next farmhouse. This belonged to a fat German named Gus Schmidt, who knew the Rovers fairly well. "Yah, I let you haf a carriage alretty," said Gus Schmidt. "Put you must pring him back to-morrow, hey?" "We will," answered Dick. "I vos hear some putty goot stories apout you Rofer poys," went on Mr. Schmidt, while he was hooking up his horse. "You vos on der Mississippi Rifer, hey?" "We were," answered Sam. "Und you vos go owid on der blains und catch some counterfeiters, hey?" "Yes, we had something to do with it," came from Tom. "Und den you vos go py der Gulluf of Mexico alretty und find a steampoat vos has nopotty got on it," pursued Gus Schmidt. "Ach, it vos vonderful vot vos habben to somepody, ain't it?" "Didn't you ever have anything happen to you, Mr. Schmidt?" asked Sam. "Only vonce, und dot vos enough. I peen in New York, und der poys call me names. Den I run after dem, und da vos go py a cellar full of vater. I vos run on a poard, und der poys turn dot poard----" "And you fell into the water," finished Tom. "Not much! I chumped back to der sidevalk," answered Gus Schmidt, and then laughed heartily at his little joke. The three Rover boys were soon in the carriage and on the way to the farm. The horse that had been loaned to them was a speedy animal and they made good time despite the muddiness of the road. The brief storm had been a severe one, and in one spot the roadbed was considerably washed out. The boys took the carriage around to the barn and left it in charge of Jack Ness, the man of all work. Then they hurried to the house. "Oh, boys, I am so glad that you are back!" exclaimed Mrs. Rover, on seeing them. "I suppose you are wet through. Better dry your clothing at once, or change them, and I'll get you some hot tea to drink." "We are all right, Aunt Martha," answered Dick. "We were under shelter during the worst of the storm. Is Uncle Randolph around?" "No, he went to Carwell on business. I am worried about him, for I am afraid he got caught in the storm, for he drove over." "What did he go for?" questioned Tom, quickly. "Oh, it was a private matter." "About some traction company bonds?" asked Sam, who could not hold back his curiosity. "Yes. But how do you happen to know about it?" demanded his aunt, in astonishment. "We found something out to-day, aunty," said Dick. "It's a queer piece of business. Do you know where Uncle Randolph was going?" "You mean in Carwell?" "Yes." "I think to the hotel." "Hum," mused the eldest of the Rover boys. "Wonder if I can get him on the telephone?" For a telephone line had been put up from Oak Run to the farm. "Why, Dick, is there anything wrong?" demanded Mrs. Rover, turning pale. "I hope not, Aunt Martha. We'll soon know. Don't worry, please." "Your uncle was very much disturbed when he went away." "I am going to try to telephone to him at once," said Dick. The telephone was on a landing of the stairs, where the bell could readily be heard upstairs and down, and Dick lost no time in taking down the receiver and calling up the office at Oak Run. "I want to get the hotel at Carwell," he told the operator. "This is 685 W," he added. "I cannot give you Carwell," was the answer. "Why not?" "The lightning struck down some of our poles and the line is out of commission." This was dismaying news and for the moment Dick was nonplussed. Then he spoke to the operator again. "Can you reach Farleytown?" "Yes, but the line from Farleytown to Carwell is down, too," came over the wire. "Can you reach Deeming's Corners?" "No. Can't get to Carwell in any way at all," was the decided answer, and Dick hung up the receiver much crestfallen. "The storm has knocked the telephone service into a cocked hat," he explained to the others. "The only way for us to reach Carwell is to drive there." "Then let us do that, and right away!" cried Tom, who had been talking to his aunt. "Uncle Randolph took those ten thousand dollars worth of traction company bonds with him, and Aunt Martha says the bonds were unregistered, so anybody could use them." "Do you think somebody is going to steal the bonds?" asked the aunt. "Two men are up to some game,--that is as much as we know," said Dick, thinking it unwise to keep his aunt in the dark any longer. "And we know the men are rascals," he added. "Oh, will they--they attack your uncle?" "I don't think they are that kind," said Sam. "I think they'll try to get the bonds away by some slick game." The aunt hated to see the boys go on a mission of possible peril and yet she wanted to have her husband warned. The lads ran down to the barn and had Jack Ness hitch up a fresh team to a buckboard. It was now growing dark. "Take good care of yourselves," cried Mrs. Rover, as they drove off. "If the telephone and telegraph poles are down on the road see that you do not run into any of them." They were driving to the gateway of the big farm when they saw Alexander Pop running after them, flourishing something in his hand. Aleck was a colored man who had once worked at Putnam Hall, but who was now attached to the Rover household. "I was jess a-thinkin' that maybe yo' boys wasn't armed," he said. "If yo' ain't, don't yo' want dis pistol?" And he held up a weapon he had purchased while on the river trip with them. "I didn't think there would be any shooting," answered Dick. "But now you've brought it, I might as well take the pistol along," and he placed the weapon in his pocket. "Perhaps yo' would like to hab dis chicken along?" went on the colored man. He delighted to be with the Rover boys on every possible occasion. "No, the buckboard is crowded now," answered Dick. "You do what you can to quiet Mrs. Rover." "Yes, tell her not to worry about us," added Tom. "And don't mention the pistol," called Sam, as the turnout moved on again. After leaving the vicinity of the farm, the boys had a distance of thirteen miles to cover. Part of the road lay through the valley which had given the farm its name, but then it ran up and over a series of hills, and through several patches of woods. Under the trees it was dark, and they had to slacken their speed for fear of accident. "Danger ahead!" cried Sam presently, and Dick, who was driving, brought the team to a halt. Across the road lay an uprooted tree. "Can't drive around that," announced Sam, after an inspection. "And it will be hard work dragging it out of the way." "We'll drive over it," announced Dick. "Hold tight, if you don't want to be bounced off." He called to the horses, and the team moved forward slowly. They had not been out of the stable for several days and were inclined to dance and prance. They stepped in among the tree branches and then one animal reared and tried to back. "Get up there, Dan!" cried Dick. "None of that tomfoolery! Get up, I say!" The other horse wanted to go ahead, and he dragged his mate deeper into the tree limbs. Then, without warning, the balky animal made a leap, cleared the tree, and started down the road at breakneck speed. "Look out, the team is running away!" yelled Sam, and then stopped short, for he as well as the others were in danger of being thrown from the buckboard. CHAPTER V RANDOLPH ROVER'S STORY It was a time of peril, and all of the Rover boys realized this fully. The buckboard was a strong one, but the road had been washed out so much by the storm that it was very uneven, and the jouncing threatened each moment to land one lad or another out on his head. "Whoa! whoa!" yelled Dick, and did his best to rein in the team. But, as mentioned before, they had not been out for several days and were consequently fresh and inclined to keep on. Each had the bit in his teeth, so pulling on the lines was of little avail. "If we don't stop soon something is going to happen," was Tom's comment, and scarcely had he spoken when they went down into a rut and Sam was flung up and over a wheel into some brushwood. Then the team went on as before. The woods left behind, they came to a large open field, where the ground was rather soft. "Turn in here, Dick, if you can," cried Tom. "That is what I am trying to do," answered the eldest Rover boy, pulling on one rein with might and main. At first the horses refused to leave the road, but at last the strain on the one rein told and Dan swerved to the right, dragging his mate with him. As the wheels of the buckboard sank into the soft soil of the field the pulling became harder, and at last the horses dropped into a walk and were then brought to a stop with ease. "Wonder if Sam was hurt?" were Dick's first words, as he leaped to the ground and ran to the heads of the team to quiet them. "He went out in a hurry, that's sure," was Tom's answer. "Can you hold them now?" "Yes--the fire is all out of them." "Then I'll run back and see to Sam." And Tom set off on a dog trot toward the spot where the mishap to his younger brother had occurred. He found Sam sitting on a rock rubbing his left wrist. "Hurt?" he sang out, anxiously. "This wrist is a little lame, and my knee is skinned," was the answer. "Did they get away and throw you out?" "No, Dick managed to stop them by turning into a soft field. It is lucky you didn't break your neck." "I might have if I hadn't tumbled into the bushes, Tom. Gracious, how the buckboard did jounce up and down!" Limping a little on account of the bruised knee, Sam followed his brother down the road. They found Dick had led the team from the field. He, too, was glad to learn Sam was not seriously injured. "What's to do now?" asked Tom. "I don't like to trust that team much." "Oh, they're tamed down now," asserted Dick. "I am sure they won't want to run away again." "We want to get to Carwell as soon as possible, but we don't want to do it by breaking our necks," went on the fun-loving Rover. Once more the three youths got on the buckboard and Dick started the team. The fire was now all out of them, and they went along at their regular gait. It had grown so dark the boys had to light a lantern they had brought along. "Listen!" said Sam presently, and held up his hand. From out of the darkness they heard the steady chug-chug of an automobile. It seemed to be coming toward them. "Maybe it's the runabout with those two men!" cried Tom. "If it is, let us try to stop them," answered Dick. They brought the team to a halt and listened. For a few seconds the chug-chug came closer, then it died away in the distance on their left. "The machine must have taken to a side road," was Dick's comment. "Yes, and we may as well go on," answered Tom. Once more they proceeded on their way. Less than a hundred yards were covered when they reached the side road. In the muddy roadway the tracks of the rubber tires of the automobile were plainly to be seen. "If we were sure they were the men we might go after them," said Sam. "We'd not catch them with the horses," answered Dick. "And it might be another machine," added Tom. "There are plenty of them in Carwell." They were now within two miles of the town and the farmhouses were becoming more numerous. Just as they struck a paved street, Tom uttered an exclamation: "Here comes Uncle Randolph now!" He pointed ahead to where a street light fell on a horse and buggy. On the seat of the latter sat Randolph Rover, driving along contentedly. "Hullo, Uncle Randolph!" sang out Dick, and brought the buckboard to a halt. "Why, Dick!" exclaimed the uncle, staring at the three boys in surprise. "What brings you here this time of night?" "We came to find you, Uncle Randolph," said Tom, and added: "Are your traction company bonds safe?" "My bonds? What do you know of my bonds?" And now the buggy halted beside the buckboard. "We know two men are after them," said Sam. "Oh, I thought that was a secret," answered Mr. Rover. "But did you see the men?" asked Dick, impatiently. "Oh, yes, and I have had a narrow escape from being swindled," answered the uncle, calmly. "Oh, then you escaped," said Dick, and he and his brothers breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, I escaped," answered Randolph Rover. "It was very kind of Mr. Jardell to come to me as he did," he went on. "Mr. Jardell?" asked Tom. "Who is he?" "Why, the treasurer of the traction company." "Then you haven't seen a man named Merrick and another named Pike?" asked Sam. "Why, no. Who are they?" "Two rascals who were up to some game. We think they were after your traction company bonds." "Ha! perhaps--But no, that couldn't be," murmured Mr. Rover, wiping off the spectacles he wore. "I--er--I really do not understand this, boys." "Tell us what you've been doing, uncle, and then we'll tell what we know," said Dick. "Um! Well, you know that some time ago I invested in ten thousand dollars worth of traction company bonds--got them through an agent in New York." "Yes." "Well, about a week ago I received a private letter from Mr. Jardell, of the traction company, stating that there was something wrong with the bonds. Some plates had been stolen and counterfeit bonds printed." "Yes." "I was asked to keep quiet about the matter, for if the facts became generally known the public would become frightened and the bonds would go down in the stock market. Mr. Jardell said he would meet me at Carwell and have the printer look at my bonds and find out if they were genuine or not." "And what did you do then?" asked Dick, who began to smell a mouse, as the saying goes. "I sent Mr. Jardell word I would meet him at the Carwell hotel to-day. We met, and he and his printer, a man named Grimes, said the bonds I possessed were counterfeits." "And then what?" "Of course I was very much distressed," went on Randolph Rover, calmly. "I did not know what to do. But Mr. Jardell was very nice about it. He said he would take the bonds and get the company to issue good ones in their place. He gave me a receipt for them, and I am to have the good bonds next week." "Why should he give you good bonds for bad ones?" said Tom, who, like Dick, was almost certain something was wrong. "I asked that question, too, Thomas, but he said the reputation of his company was at stake. He did not want the public at large to know that bogus bonds were on the market." "Uncle Randolph, do you know this Mr. Jardell personally?" asked Dick. "Why--er--not exactly. But his letters----" "How did he look?" As well as he was able Mr. Rover described the man and also his companion. The boys exchanged glances. "Merrick and Pike," muttered Tom. "What is that you say, Thomas?" "We think those men were swindlers," said Sam. "Swindlers! Oh, my dear Samuel, impossible!" cried Randolph Rover aghast. "Why, they were very nice gentlemen, very nice. They asked me how my scientific farming was getting along, and both had read my article in the _Review_ on the grafting of grape vines, and----" "But we know these chaps," said Dick, "and they are called Merrick and Pike." "And they talked about getting the best of you," added Tom. "That is why we followed you to Carwell. Where are the men now?" "They have gone away. But----" "Were they in a green runabout--an auto runabout?" "They had a runabout, yes. I do not remember what color it was." "The same fellows!" cried Dick. "Uncle Randolph, unless we are very much mistaken, you have been tricked, swindled! They have robbed you of the ten thousand dollars worth of bonds!" CHAPTER VI WAITING FOR NEWS It took Randolph Rover several minutes to comprehend the various statements made by the boys. That he had really been swindled by such nicely-spoken men as he had met at the Carwell hotel seemed extraordinary to him. "I understand the bonds were not registered," said Dick. "That is true," groaned his uncle. "Then anybody could use them." "Yes, although I have the numbers,--on a sheet in my desk at home." "Well, that will make it more difficult for the rascals to dispose of them," said Sam. "I'd like to catch that Merrick and that Pike, and punch their heads for them," commented Tom. It angered him exceedingly to see how readily his open-minded relative had fallen into the swindlers' trap. "But there may be some mistake," said Randolph Rover, in a forlorn tone. "Would that Merrick dare to impersonate Mr. Jardell?" "Swindlers will do anything," answered Sam. "We can make sure of that point by sending word to the traction company offices," answered Dick. "You are sure Mr. Jardell is the treasurer?" "Yes--Mr. Andrew D. Jardell." "Let us go back to town and see if we can catch him by long distance 'phone or by telegraph." Shaking his head sadly, Randolph Rover turned his buggy around and followed the boys to the central office of the telephone company. Here all was activity on account of the broken-down wires, but communications were being gradually resumed. They looked into the telephone book, and at last got a connection which, a few minutes later, put them into communication with Andrew D. Jardell's private residence in the city. "Is Mr. Jardell at home?" asked Dick, who was doing the telephoning. "Mr. Jardell is away," was the answer. "Is he at or near Carwell, New York state?" "No, he is in Paris, and has been for two weeks." "You are sure of this?" "Yes." "Who are you?" "I am Mrs. Jardell. Who are you?" "My name is Richard Rover. My uncle, Randolph Rover, has been swindled out of some traction company bonds by a man who said he was Mr. Jardell." "Mercy me! You don't say so! Well, my husband had nothing to do with it, you may be sure. He went to London first and then to Paris, and in a day or two he is to start for Switzerland. His health is very poor and the doctor said he needed the trip." Some more talk followed, and Mrs. Jardell advised Dick to communicate with the traction company at once, and he said he would do so. "It wasn't Mr. Jardell at all, Uncle Randolph," said the youth, as he hung up the receiver. "The whole thing was a cleverly-planned swindle, and unless you can get the bonds back you'll be out the money." At this announcement Mr. Rover nearly collapsed--for he was rather a retired man, and had had little to do in a business way since his trip to Africa with the boys, as related in "The Rover Boys in the Jungle." He did not know what to do, and stood rubbing his hands nervously. "The swindlers!" he murmured. "Really, it is getting so that nobody can be trusted!" "The best thing we can do is to send word to the various towns to stop the runabout with the two men in it on sight and have the rascals held by the authorities," said Dick, who felt he must take charge of affairs. "That's the talk!" cried Tom, "and the sooner we get at it the better." "Let us find out where that side road leads to," added Sam, "I mean the road on which we heard the auto." Inside of an hour various messages had been sent by telephone and telegraph. It was now growing late and the Rovers hardly knew what to do next. From their uncle the boys got the whole tale concerning the bonds, but the new light shed on the subject did not help matters. They also told the authorities about the cave and the boxes stored there, and some men were at once sent off to investigate and take possession of whatever could be found. "I think some of us ought to go home," said Sam. "Aunt Martha won't go to bed until we get back, and she will be greatly worried." It was finally decided that Tom and Dick should remain at the Carwell hotel over night and Sam and his uncle should go home in the buggy. The team was put up at the hotel barn, and then all hands went to the dining room for a late supper. "I'm as hungry as two bears," announced Tom. "Well, I shan't say no to a good feed," answered Sam. Randolph Rover could eat but little. Now that he realized what had occurred, he upbraided himself bitterly for having been so deluded. "They talked about scientific farming just to get me into good humor," he said, bitterly. "I see it all! Oh, if I can only get my hands on them!" After Mr. Rover and Sam had departed, Dick and Tom wandered around the hotel and the vicinity for three hours. They anxiously awaited some message regarding the two swindlers, but nothing came. Then, worn out by the strenuous day they had put in, they went to bed and slept soundly until morning. Before having breakfast they asked for messages. There was one from a village called Bahan, saying a green runabout with two men had passed through there about midnight. But the men had not been captured, and it was not known what had become of them. At noon the telephone line between Oak Run and Carwell was in working order once more, and the boys sent word home. Then they left directions at the hotel, so that any messages coming in might be transmitted to the Rover farm. "Well, I never!" cried Dick, suddenly. "What now?" asked his brother. "That freight thief, and that stuff in the cave----" "Humph! it slipped my mind entirely. I was thinking only of Uncle Randolph's bonds." "Let us find out if anything has been done." At the local police headquarters they found that a wagon had just come in, loaded with the three full boxes of goods located at the cave. A search was still in progress for Dangler, but so far he had not been located. "This clears up the mystery of the freight thefts," said an officer to the boys. "I only hope we can get our hands on Bill Dangler." "You know him?" asked Dick. "Oh, yes. Years ago he used to work for the freight division of the railroad." "Do you know anything of this Merrick and the fellow called Pike?" "No, but our idea is that the three men were in the deal together. Probably this Merrick and this Pike pulled off this affair of the traction company bonds as a side issue." "Have the freight robberies been large?" asked Sam. "Not so large at one time, but they have been going on for months, and the total from four different stations along the line foots up to a good many thousand dollars." "Well, I hope we catch all three of the men--and any others who may be in league with them," said Dick, and then he and Tom walked off. A little later they were on the buckboard and bound for home. When they arrived at the farm they found that their uncle had sent a long letter to the officers of the traction company, relating in full what had occurred. In return the officials of the concern said they would put a private detective on the case, and this was done. But weeks went by and nothing was seen or heard of Merrick and Pike, and what had become of the missing bonds remained a mystery. "I am anxious to take a look at that cave where the stolen freight was stored," said Sam one day. "Supposing we drive to it?" "That will suit me," answered Dick. "I want to learn about something else--that red tin box I saw hanging from a tree." "Oh, yes, I had forgotten about that," put in Tom. "Well, shall we walk or drive over?" It was decided to drive as far as the cave, and not knowing how long they would be gone, the boys took a lunch along. "Now, take care of yourselves," warned Randolph Rover. "Don't fall into any more holes." "We'll try to watch out!" sang out Tom. Then Dick cracked the whip, and off the team started at a good pace, the eldest Rover, however, holding them well under control. It was a clear and beautiful day. The boys did not dream of the odd adventure in store for them. CHAPTER VII A STRANGE LETTER BOX "It won't be long now before we'll have to get back to Putnam Hall," observed Sam, as they drove along. "Dear old school! How I love it!" "It's too bad that we are getting too old to go there," said Tom. "But we can't be boys always." "I shall be glad to see the other fellows again," came from Dick. "Do you know what I think?" declared Tom. "I think the Putnam Hall cadets are the finest lot of boys in the world!" "Throwing bouquets at yourself, Tom?" said Sam, with a laugh. "Well, don't you agree with me?" "I certainly do, Sam, and Captain Putnam is the best teacher in the world. My, but won't we have fun when we get back!" "We'll have to have a feast in honor of our return," said Dick, and smiled that quiet smile of his which meant so much. The distance to the cave was soon covered, and the boys tied their team to a tree in that vicinity. They went inside and found that everything, even to the empty boxes, had been taken away. The place had been explored by a number of curiosity seekers. "It is queer that this cave wasn't discovered before," was Dick's comment, after they had spent half an hour in walking around. "Perhaps the opening to the road wasn't so large formerly," suggested Tom. "Dangler may have enlarged it, so he could drive in." "That is true. Well, it will be a regular picnic place after this. Its fame will spread for miles around." And Dick was right, and the cave is a well-known spot in that portion of New York state to this day. The boys had brought with them two electric pocket lights, as they are called--lights they had purchased while on their river outing--and with these turned on they walked to the extreme rear of the cave and along the various passageways running up the mountainside. "Here is where we dropped in," said Dick, pointing out the spot. "I wish we could drop out--and land up on the mountain outside," returned his youngest brother. "Then, maybe, you could locate that tin lunch box, or whatever it was." "I'd get up, Very soon If I had, A big balloon!" sang out Tom, merrily. "But as there doesn't seem to be a balloon handy, what's the matter with trying to climb up?" he added. "And pull down several tons of dirt and rock on your head," said Dick. "Better go slow. We already know how treacherous these holes are. You'll get out of one by getting into another that's worse." "I brought a lariat along," said Sam. "A lariat?" queried the others. "Sure,--the one I bought when we were out west. I thought we might use it for climbing purposes. It is light but strong, and we can lasso a tree or stump up there with it." "Hurrah! Sam has solved the problem of how the Rover boys shall rise in the world!" exclaimed Tom, gaily. "Sam, try your skill by all means." "Show me the tree or stump and I will," answered his brother readily. As well as they were able, they crawled from one part of the hole to a spot that was somewhat higher. Then they found a projecting rock above them and Sam threw the noose of his lariat over this. "Will it hold?" queried Dick. "You don't want to try to climb up and fall." With caution Sam pulled on the lariat. It held, and he went up hand over hand, for he was a fair athlete. Then his brothers followed. They now stood on a ledge of rock, and the top of the hole was still twelve feet above them. "There is a small tree, Sam," said Tom, looking upward. "If you can lasso that I think we'll be all right." Once more the youngest Rover started to use the lariat. As it swung upward it missed the tree and swished out of sight over the edge of the hole. "Ouch!" came the unexpected cry from above. "Oh, my eye!" "Hullo! you've lashed somebody!" ejaculated Dick. "I didn't know there was anybody up there," answered Sam, as the noose of the lasso slipped downward. The three Rover boys looked upward. They heard a hasty movement in the bushes and caught a brief glimpse of a man's face. On the instant the man disappeared, muttering something to himself. "It was Dangler!" ejaculated Dick. "Are you sure?" asked both of the others, in a breath. "Almost positive." Dick had scarcely spoken the last words when down into the hole came a shower of dirt and stones, shoved over the edge above. The boys were struck by the stones and got some of the dirt in their eyes. Then down came a second mass of the same sort. "Sto--stop that!" spluttered Tom, when he could speak. "Do you want to kill us?" There was no answer, but down came more dirt and stones, until the boys were almost covered. What to do they did not know, until Dick suggested they drop from the ledge and seek safety in the cave. As they went down, a fair-sized rock followed, scraping Tom's shoulder and causing him to utter a sharp cry of pain. "Are you hurt, Tom?" asked his two brothers. "Oh, it isn't much," panted Tom. "But I wish I could get my hands on that rascal, that's all!" "I am sure now that it must be Dangler," said Dick. "Nobody else around here would try to injure us. He is mad because we have exposed him. He must know the officers of the law are looking for him." "I wish we could catch the rascal," muttered Tom. "Supposing we climb the mountain from the outside?" suggested Sam. "It is a perfectly clear day and is early yet. We'll know enough to look out for pitfalls. If we can catch this Dangler the three of us ought to be able to manage him." "If we are going to try anything like that we want to hurry," returned Dick. "He won't remain in this locality long--now he knows he is discovered." "Maybe he thinks we didn't see him," came from Tom. "Well, that will be in our favor. But he'll know somebody will be after him, for throwing down the dirt and stones." Having eaten a hasty lunch and washed it down with water from a nearby spring, the three lads began the ascent of the mountain. This was hard work and caused them to perspire freely. "I'm glad I'm not fat," said Tom. "If I was I'd be winded sure." "I think we'd better keep quiet as soon as we reach the vicinity of the holes," cautioned Dick. Half an hour of hard climbing brought the boys to the vicinity where they had first fallen into the holes leading to the cave, and then they advanced cautiously and in almost absolute silence. They stopped to listen several times, but heard nothing but the calls of some birds and the trickling of water over the rocks. Arriving at the top of the hole from where the dirt and stones had been thrown, they gazed around with interest. Where the soil was soft they could see the footprints of shoes much larger than those they themselves wore. "Here is his trail, going away," said Dick, after a close examination. "There is your tin box!" cried Sam, pointing to the object, still dangling from a distant tree. "Wait till I see what is in it," answered his big brother. "It won't take but a minute or two." "Beware of holes!" cautioned Tom. Feeling his way through the brushwood, Dick approached the dangling tin box. It was a small affair and now hung open. He felt certain in his mind that when he had seen it before it had been closed. The box proved to be empty and Dick was, somehow, disappointed. He glanced on the ground and saw a number of bits of paper, some old looking and some new. He picked up some of the bits and saw they had been written on in pencil, but the words or parts of words were undecipherable. "Well, what do you make of it?" questioned Sam, as he and Tom came up. "I think I know what this is," answered Dick. "What?" "A sort of a private post-office. Somebody was in the habit of leaving messages here, and Dangler or somebody else got the messages from time to time." CHAPTER VIII LAST DAYS ON THE FARM "I believe you are right," said Tom, after he, too, had looked over some of the bits of paper strewn around. "Here is the word 'box' and here is the word 'Saturday.'" "Yes, and here are the words, 'fast freight,'" added Sam. "This was nothing more than a letter box for the freight thieves." "But why was it placed here?" questioned Dick. "It's a very out-of-the-way place and hard to get to." "Maybe somebody had to come this way," answered Tom. "See, here is something of a trail." "Yes, and here are those same big footprints!" exclaimed Sam. "For all we know they may lead to some house or hut on the mountainside." Having picked up the majority of the bits of paper and put them in their pockets for future examination, the three Rover boys followed the path or trail they had discovered. It led along the mountainside to where there was a small clearing, backed up by a series of rocks from which a spring gushed forth, sparkling brightly in the sunshine. "I'd like to get another drink," said Sam; "I am terribly thirsty to-day." "Wait!" warned Dick, and caught his youngest brother by the arm. "What's up, Dick?" "I see a log cabin--over yonder, among the trees." "Yes, and I see Dangler!" yelled Tom, suddenly. "There he goes, with a big bundle over his shoulder!" And he pointed to the rear of the log cabin. A man was just disappearing behind a fringe of brushwood. The bundle he carried appeared to be tied up in a horse blanket. He was running as hard as he could. For a moment the boys did not know what to do. Then they ran to the cabin and entered. It contained but one room, and this they soon discovered was deserted. In the chimney a fire was smouldering, and the remains of a meal lay scattered over a box that did duty as a table. "This must have been Dangler's hangout," was Dick's comment. "He must have come back for his things." "Yes, and this explains why the queer letter box was stationed back there," said Tom. "Aren't you going to try to catch him?" asked Sam, impatiently. "To be sure," answered Dick, and rushed out, and the others after him. "Keep back there!" they heard Dangler cry, as they appeared on the trail back of the log cabin. "Keep back, or it will be the worse for you!" "Stop!" called Dick. "You might as well give up Dangler; you are bound to be caught some time." "Not much! I am armed and I warn you to keep back," answered the freight thief, and then a bend of the trail hid him from view. "Do you think he'd dare to shoot?" asked Tom. "There is no telling what a desperate man will do," replied Dick. "We had better be cautious." After that they advanced with care. Presently the trail came out on a mountain road and this passed over some rocks and crossed two other roads. They saw no more of Dangler, and the footprints had disappeared. "He has slipped us," said Tom, coming to a halt and resting on a fallen tree. "Hang the luck anyway!" "He came back to the cabin for his things," mused Sam. "I guess he is going to leave the neighborhood, and maybe for good." Chagrined over their failure to catch the freight thief, the boys looked around that neighborhood for awhile and then retraced their steps to the log cabin. Here they found several old articles of wearing apparel and a few newspapers. "Here is an envelope," said Sam, fishing the object out from behind the box that had done duty as a table. "It is addressed to William Dangler. Must have been some letter he got." "Anything in it?" "No." "What is the postmark?" "It is almost blurred out," said Sam. He took the envelope to the light. "Well, I declare! Ithaca!" "Ithaca!" cried Tom. "Why, that's the city we stop at to take the boat for Putnam Hall," exclaimed Dick. "I know it." "This is interesting, to say the least," was the comment of the oldest Rover boy. "Wonder if Dangler has friends or confederates in Ithaca?" "We must notify the police of this," said Tom. "And the sooner the better." Satisfied that they could learn nothing more by remaining around the log cabin, the boys departed, and inside of an hour were on their buckboard and bound for the farm. From that place they called up the authorities and informed them of what they had learned. Another search was at once instituted for Bill Dangler, but the rascal was not captured. The next day Mr. Anderson Rover came home, and the boys and Randolph Rover had to acquaint him with all that had taken place. He shook his head when he heard of the unregistered bonds. "I am afraid you will never see them again, Randolph," he said to his brother. "I am afraid so myself," was the mournful reply. Anderson Rover had come home to see his boys off to school. "I want you to make the most of your opportunities while at Putnam Hall this term," he said, "for it is to be your last." "Yes, I know that," answered Tom. "But after that, what?" "We will talk that over later, Tom. You must either go to college or get ready to go into business." "I'd like to go to college!" put in Dick. "So would I--if I knew what kind of a place it was," added Tom. "If it was as fine a place as Putnam Hall I'd jump at it," came from Sam. The next few days flew by quickly. During that time Dick received a letter from Dan Baxter, the former bully of Putnam Hall, which interested him not a little. This letter ran, in part, as follows: "I am glad to say that I am now doing fairly well. I tried several positions and am now a traveling salesman for a large carpet house. I get fifteen dollars per week, all my expenses, and a commission on sales, so I consider myself lucky. "When I look back on what I once was, Dick, I can scarcely realize what a change has come. But I feel happier than I ever was, and I am in hopes that I shall live to make a man of myself yet. I am trying to give up all my bad habits, and I haven't smoked, or drank a glass of liquor, since I left you in the south." * * * * * "That's the kind of a letter I like to get," said Dick, as he let his brothers peruse the communication. "It does a fellow's heart good, doesn't it?" "I am glad we let him have that hundred dollars," said Sam. "Do you think he'll pay it back?" "Here is a postscript in which he says he will send a money order next week." "He certainly means to pull himself together," said Tom. "Well, now he has turned over a new leaf, I wish him the best of luck." Almost before they knew it, it was time to leave the farm and journey to Putnam Hall. Everybody was sorry to see them go. "I can't abide yo' boys being away nohow!" wailed Aleck Pop. "It jess don't seem natural to have yo' gone, dat's wot it don't!" "Oh, we'll be back some day, Aleck," answered Dick. "And if we go off on some trip later, maybe we'll take you along." "I most wish I was a waiter ag'in at de Hall," sighed the colored man. "They can't spare you from here," said Sam. "Oh, I know dat, Sam." The boys' trunks had been packed and sent on ahead, so all they carried with them were their dress-suit cases. Their father drove them to the railroad station at Oak Run, and their aunt and uncle and the others around the farm came out on the piazza to see them off. "Now be good boys," admonished their Aunt Martha. "And take care and don't get sick." "And be sure and study all you can," said their Uncle Randolph. "Remember nothing is quite so grand as learning in this world." "Yo' keep out ob mischief!" cried Aleck Pop, shaking a warning finger at Tom, who grinned broadly. And then the carriage started off, and the journey to Putnam Hall was begun. CHAPTER IX AT THE WILD WEST SHOW As my old readers know, Putnam Hall was located not far from the village of Cedarville on Cayuga Lake. To get to the school the boys had to take a train to Ithaca and then board a little lake steamer stopping at Cedarville and various other points along the shore. "It seems a long time since we were at the Hall," observed Dick, as they settled down in the train. "And what a lot of things have happened since then!" exclaimed Sam. "I can tell you what, we'll have a story to tell to the others, won't we?" "I guess Songbird, Fred, and Hans Mueller have already told everything," returned Tom. "More than likely Songbird has concocted some verses about it." The run to Ithaca took several hours, and they lunched at noon in the dining car. It was a beautiful day, and the boys enjoyed the scenery as much as if they had never seen it before. "I hope we can make a good connection for Cedarville," said Sam as they left the train and started for the dock from which the _Golden Star_ made her trips on the lake. But they were doomed to disappointment, the steamboat had had a break-down and would be delayed two hours or more. As there was nothing to do but to wait, the boys checked their dress-suit cases and then started for a stroll through the city. They soon learned that a wild west show was giving an exhibition there and consequently the place was crowded with folks from the surrounding districts. "I shouldn't mind going to the wild west show," observed Tom. "Do you think we have time?" "We could spend an hour there anyway," answered Sam. "It depends on where the show is to be held," came from Dick. They soon ascertained that the show grounds were not far off, and made their way thither. The exhibition had already started, and they got inside the big tent-like enclosure as speedily as possible. The show was a fairly good one, and the boys thoroughly enjoyed the trick riding by cowboys, and the fancy rifle shooting. Then came some wild riding by real Indians. "Almost makes a fellow feel as if he'd like to be on a horse himself," said Tom. He liked horseback riding very well. "Say, I want you to look over there," said Sam, pointing to the seats some distance away. "Do you see that man sitting near the bottom--right beside that boy with the basket of peanuts?" Tom and Dick looked in the direction pointed out, and the eldest Rover gave a start. "Sam, do you think it is the fellow called Merrick?" he exclaimed. "Doesn't he look like it?" "He certainly does--now you speak of it," came from Tom. "And, by the way, don't you remember about that envelope picked up in the log cabin? It was postmarked Ithaca." "So it was! Perhaps this Merrick lives here." "Let us go over and get a closer look at him," said Dick, and left his seat, followed by the others. There was a large crowd, so they had some difficulty in making their way to where the man was located. In his haste, Dick bumped against a waiter selling lemonade and spilled the contents of two glasses on the ground. "Excuse me," he said. "Hi! you've got to pay for the lemonade," roared the waiter, angrily. "You pay up, you clumsy clown!" "See here, my man, I'll pay you, but I want you to understand you can't call me a clown," said Dick, angrily. "Ah! go on wid yer! Pay up, see?" "Here's your money," and Dick held out ten cents. "Now, am I a clown or not?" "Well, er----" "Am I or not?" And the eldest Rover boy doubled up his fists. He knew he must "take the bull by the horns" with such an individual as that before him. "Excuse me," mumbled the fellow and moved away. "I--er--suppose yer couldn't help it." Sam and Tom had gone ahead and they were now close to the man they took to be Merrick. "No mistake here!" declared Sam, as he got a good, square look at the fellow's face. "He sees us!" exclaimed Tom, a second later. "He is trying to get away." The boy was right, Merrick had seen them. He was greatly amazed, for he had not dreamed of their being in that vicinity. He left his seat in a hurry, and, elbowing his way through the crowd, started for the entrance to the big tent-like enclosure. By this time Dick was coming up and Sam and Tom quickly acquainted him with what was going on. All three of the Rovers pushed through the big crowd after Merrick, but, before they could draw near, the rascal was outside and running between a number of carriages and wagons standing in that vicinity. "Come on after him!" cried Tom. "We must capture him if we can!" They set off on a smart run, but Merrick could run also, and fear now lent speed to his flying feet. On and on went the swindler, with the Rover boys less than a square behind him. Then, as they came to a number of tall buildings, Merrick darted around a corner and out of sight. When the Rover boys reached the corner they looked in every direction for the man. Only a few people were about, the majority of the town folks being at the show. "Wonder if he went straight on, or took to some side street?" mused Dick. "I'll go straight on," said Sam. "Dick, you can take one side street and Tom can take the other," and away went the youngest Rover, at a fresh burst of speed. Sam's advice was considered good, and soon all of the boys had scattered. The street Tom followed was lined with tall tenements and ended in little more than an alleyway. Coming to another corner, Tom paused and gazed in all directions. As he turned his head he saw a man look out from a tenement doorway. Then the head was drawn back quickly. "Merrick!" muttered Tom to himself, and turned back to the tenement, which was a building four stories high. On one side was something of an alleyway and beyond were other tenements, and the rear of a big building used for a factory and offices. Tom found the front door of the tenement wide open and he did not hesitate to go in. Nobody was in sight, but he heard hasty footsteps on the floor above. "Merrick! you might as well give up!" he called out. "Come down here!" "Go on about your business, young fellow!" came the reply. "If you try to follow me you'll get the worst of it." Undaunted by this threat, Tom mounted the stairs two steps at a time. As he did so he heard Merrick go up a second flight and then a third. "Must think he can hide on the roof," thought Tom. "Well, I'll corner him if I can." As Tom ran through the hallway on the third floor a door opened and an old woman confronted him. "What do yez want here?" she demanded, in strong Irish accents. "I am after a thief," answered Tom. "A thafe! Sure an' there's no thafe in this house." "He just ran in here from the street." "Bedad, is that true now? Where did he go to?" "I don't know. How do you get to the roof?" "Be the laddher at the back av the hall." The old woman pointed in the direction, and Tom sped on. Soon he reached a common wooden ladder leading to a scuttle, which was wide open. As the youth mounted the ladder the scuttle was banged shut, almost hitting him on the top of the head. Then he heard hasty footsteps across the roof. "Maybe he thinks he can jump to one of the other buildings," said Tom to himself. "Well, if he can do it, so can I." He pushed the scuttle up with difficulty, for it was heavy. Then with caution, for he did not want to receive a kick in the head, he gazed around the roof of the tenement. Nobody was in sight. With caution Tom stepped out on the roof. A number of chimneys were not far off, and he wondered if Merrick was concealed behind them. "I wish I had a club or something," he thought. "I'd have a tough time of it up here, if it came to a hand-to-hand struggle." With eyes on the alert, Tom made his way to one chimney and then another. The swindler was not there, nor was he on the adjoining roof. Then the youth got down on his hands and knees and looked over the edge of the tenement, on the alleyway side. Here was an iron fire escape, running from the fourth story to the second. On the fire escape he saw Merrick, descending to the bottom with all possible rapidity. CHAPTER X JOLLY OLD SCHOOLMATES Evidently the swindler had dropped from the roof to the upper landing of the fire escape. He was now almost to the bottom. "Stop!" cried Tom, but he knew the command was a useless one. At the sound of his voice Merrick looked up and muttered something the boy could not catch. Then he swung himself from the bottom landing of the fire escape and dropped to the ground. "If he can get down that way, so can I," thought Tom, and in another moment he was descending the escape in the same fashion as the swindler had done. As he reached the second landing of the escape he saw Merrick turn the corner of the alleyway and disappear on the street beyond. When Tom came out on the street he almost ran into the arms of two burly men who had come out of the tenement. Both caught him by the arms. "What does this mean, young fellow?" asked one, savagely. "Doing the sneak-thief act?" "I am after a thief," was the answer. "Did you see a man running away?" "No, and we don't think there was a man," answered one of the tenement dwellers. "Well, there was a man," said Tom. "Come, if you will help me catch him I will reward you well." "What did he steal?" "Some bonds worth ten thousand dollars--they belonged to my uncle," explained Tom, hastily. The promise of a reward made the men attentive and they soon agreed to assist Tom as much as possible. Then Dick and Sam came in sight, and had to be told of what had happened. The two men knew the tenement and factory district well, and they led in a hunt lasting over half an hour, and a policeman was likewise called into service. "I've heard of that bond case," said the policeman. "I'd like to lay my hands on Merrick." But the hunt was a useless one, for Merrick could not be found. For their trouble Tom gave the two men from the tenement a dollar each, with which they had to be satisfied. The policeman promised to report the matter at headquarters, and as there seemed to be nothing else to do, the three Rover boys walked down to the steamboat dock, first, however, sending a telegram to Randolph Rover, relating briefly what had occurred. "It's a great pity we didn't catch this Merrick," sighed Tom, when they were steaming along the lake shore. "Perhaps we'll never see or hear of him again." "Well, we don't want Merrick as much as we want Uncle Randolph's traction company bonds," answered Dick. "If he has disposed of the bonds it won't do much good to catch him,--unless, of course, he can get the bonds back." "And he may not have had the bonds," put in Sam. "That fellow Pike may have handled them." "That is true, too,--although I somehow think Merrick is the prime mover in this swindle." "I think that, too," said Tom. The _Golden Star_ was a trim little side-wheeler with a fair-sized deck fore and aft. The boys sat on the forward deck, and as the boat ran along the shore of the lake they pointed out many localities known to them. "There is where we went on the paper chase," said Sam. "Yes, and that is where we went on one of the encampments," added Tom. "We came fishing down here once," put in Dick. "One of the boys went overboard." "It was John Fenwick, the fellow we used to call Mumps," said Tom. "By the way, I wonder what has become of him?" "Went west, I think," answered Sam. "One of the boys said he was in the insurance business with some relative." "He was a great toady to Dan Baxter." "So he was, but he had some good points, too." So the talk ran on, until Cedarville was reached. On account of the delay it was dark, and the boys wondered if they would find any conveyance to take them to the Hall. "Hullo, here is Peleg Snuggers with the carryall!" cried Sam, as the general utility man of the school appeared. "How are you, Peleg?" "Fust rate," replied the man, grinning. "Been waiting a long time for you." "Sorry, but we couldn't make the captain hurry the boat," answered Dick. "Peleg, you're a sight for tired optics," said Tom, giving the man's hand a squeeze that made him wince. "How's your grandmother?" "Why, Master Tom, I ain't----" "And your great-granduncle? Is he over the shingles yet?" "Why, Master Tom, I ain't got no----" "And your second cousin by your first wife's sister? Did she get over the heart failure she had when the canary took a fit?" "Now, see here, Master Tom, don't you go for to joking an old man----" "Joking, Peleg?" returned Tom, solemnly. "Why, you know I never joke." And he took on an injured look. "Don't joke, eh? Well, if you ain't the greatest joker Putnam Hall ever see then I'll eat my hat," declared Peleg. "Jump in an' don't ask me about no grandfathers, or wife's sisters, nor nuthing. Ain't you hungry?" "Hungry? I could eat a brickbat fried in lemon oil." "Then, unless you hurry, you won't get no supper." "Oh, Mrs. Green will get something for us, never fear," said Dick, mentioning the matron of Putnam Hall, who was a warm-hearted and generous woman, even though a little bit "peppery" at times. "All the other boys here now?" asked Dick, as they drove off in the direction of Putnam Hall. "I reckon the most of 'em are, Master Dick. So many coming an' going I can hardly keep track of 'em." "Fred Garrison, Songbird Powell and Hans Mueller back?" asked Sam. "Yes, an' they told me some wonderful stories of your doings down south." "Are Larry Colby and George Granbury here?" questioned Dick. "Yes." "I'll be glad to meet Larry and George again," went on Dick. "I suppose they'll have something to tell of what they did during vacation." "Every time I come to the Hall I think of the first time I came," said Tom. "Do you remember how I set off that giant firecracker?" "Yes, and how old Josiah Crabtree put you under arrest for it," added Sam. "Wonder where old Crabtree is now?" "He is out of prison," answered Peleg Snuggers. "I got that from a man in Cedarville. The man said as how Crabtree went to Canada." "Hope he stays there and never attempts to bother Mrs. Stanhope again," was Dick's comment. About half the distance to the Hall had been covered when there came a shout on the road and Peleg Snuggers had to rein in his team. Then several boys appeared, dressed in cadet uniforms, for Putnam Hall was a military academy. "Whoop! here they are, fellows! Hurrah for the Rovers!" "Rovers by name and rovers by nature!" "Say, Tom, how do you like being adrift on the Gulf of Mexico?" "Sam, don't you want to become a regular cowboy?" "Dick, when I buy a houseboat I'm going to engage you as captain." And then the students in the road clambered into the carryall and tumbled all over the Rovers, hugging them and trying to shake hands at the same time. "Larry, glad to see you, but please don't smother me." "I'll love you, George, if only you won't put your elbow through my ribs." "I knew Fred would meet us." "You gif me der honor of dis," came from Hans Mueller. "I tole dem fellers to come along alretty." "Good for you, Hansy, old boy!" cried Sam, and gave the German cadet a tight squeeze. "Songbird, why don't you turn on the poetry pipe line and let her flow?" queried Larry Colby, who, even though an officer of one of the companies, was as jolly as the rest of the students. "Yes, give us something by all means," said Tom. "Something about 'stilly night,' 'fond recollections,' 'starved cats,' and the like." "Humph! 'stilly night' and 'starved cats'!" snorted Songbird Powell. "You must think I'm running a hash mill instead of----" "By no means, Songbird, dear!" piped Tom. "We all know you're the sole owner of the largest poem factory in New York state. Let her flow by all means." "If you don't recite, we'll sing," said Dick. "No, don't do that--yet," pleaded Songbird. "I've got a verse or two all ready," and he began, in slow, measured tones: "Back to dear old Putnam Hall! Back to the days of yore! Back to the good old times we had! May we have many more! Back to our lessons and our books, And to the teachers, too, Back to the drills and hours off----" "And to the mutton stew!" finished Tom. "Don't forget to put in Mrs. Green's wonderful mutton stews." "No mutton stews in this!" snorted Songbird. "The last line was, 'When days were bright and blue,'" and then he continued: "We love to gather here again, And talk of times to come, And plot and plan, and plan and plot---- And plan and plot----and plot and plot---- And plan----and plan----and plan----" "Songbird, you've plotted and planned too much," interrupted Dick, as the would-be poet hesitated. "Let's sing a song." "That's the talk!" cried Fred Garrison, and started up the song well known to all of them: "Putnam Hall's the place for me! Tra la lee! Tra la lee! Putnam Hall's the place for me! The best old school I know!" And then, as the carryall swung up to the campus, they set up the school yell, which brought out a score of students to witness the arrival of the Rover boys. CHAPTER XI WILLIAM PHILANDER TUBBS As my old readers know, Putnam Hall was a handsome structure of brick and stone standing in the center of a large plot of ground, bounded on two sides by cedar woods. To the front was the campus and the wagon road and beyond this a slope leading to the lake. To the rear were rich farm lands, cultivated solely for the benefit of the institution. Besides the school, there were a building fitted up as a gymnasium, and also several barns and carriage houses. The Hall was built in the form of the letter E, and was three stories high. It contained numerous classrooms, a private office, a large mess hall, or dining room, and both large and small dormitories. The master of the school was Captain Victor Putnam, who was a bachelor, and as kind as he was strict. Captain Putnam was a West Point graduate, and had modeled his school somewhat after that famous government institution. When the school was first organized the Rover boys did not go there, but a number of other bright and lively lads did, and what these cadets accomplished has already been related in a line of stories called "The Putnam Hall Series," starting with "The Putnam Hall Cadets." These lads had some awful quarrels with the head assistant, Josiah Crabtree, and they were glad when the Rovers appeared and made it so hot for Crabtree that he had to leave. George Strong was now first assistant in place of Crabtree, and the cadets found him a teacher after their own heart. "Hurrah! here are the Rovers!" was the cry from the campus. "Welcome back!" "Boys, I am glad to see you again," came from Captain Putnam, as he appeared at the front door and shook hands. "From what I have heard you have had rather strenuous times during the past vacation." "That is true, Captain," answered Dick. "I am glad to get back here." "So am I glad," came from Tom and Sam, and all shook hands. Then the boys were told to go to the mess hall, where a hot supper awaited them. Here Mrs. Green met them with her round, ruddy and smiling face. "It's wonderful stories I've heard of you," said the matron. "I declare, you'll have to go into a museum!" "Not until after supper anyhow," answered Tom, dryly. And then everybody present laughed. The supper over, the boys went up to their dormitory, and here as many of the cadets as could crowded in, to talk over the doings of the past vacation. Larry Colby had spent the time on the coast of Maine, and George Granbury had been to the Thousand Islands and to Montreal. "Yes, Crabtree is in Canada," said George. "I met him in Montreal, and I can tell you, he looked seedy enough." "Well, he deserves to be seedy," was Dick's comment. He could not forget how the former teacher had endeavored to hypnotize the widow Stanhope into marrying him, so that he could gain possession of the money she was holding in trust for Dora. Of course all the boys wanted to know about Dan Baxter, for he had been a leading character at the Hall for many years. Some shook their heads at the idea of the former bully reforming. "It will be the greatest surprise I ever heard of," was Larry's comment. "He'll do it--mark my words," said Dick. "Let us hope so," said George. "Well, it would seem that Putnam Hall is not to suffer for the want of a bully," came from Fred. "We've got a new one here who is as bad as Dan Baxter ever was." "Who is he?" questioned Dick, with interest. "A chap named Tad Sobber. He is a big, overbearing fellow with hardly any education, and he wants to rule everybody. I can't understand how Captain Putnam took him as a pupil." "He came well recommended, that's why," answered Songbird. "But I guess the captain has found out that the recommendation was false." "He shan't rule me," said Tom, decidedly. "We want no bullies here," put in Dick. "The day for all such is past." "So say we all of us!" cried several cadets. At that moment came a knock on the door, and a tall youth, wearing an unusually high collar and very large cuffs, came in. "Well, if it isn't our old chum, William Philander Tubbs!" cried Dick, running forward and grasping the hand of the dude student. "Hullo, Tubbsey, old man!" said Tom, gaily. "What's the price of the best cologne now?" "Very--ah--glad to meet you again," drawled Tubbs. "But--er--please don't call me Tubbsey, because it isn't my name, don't you know." "To be sure, Buttertub--I mean Washtub," answered Tom. "Had your hair crimped lately?" "Now, Tom, I never crimp my hair--it hurts the color, don't you know," explained William Philander. "I use----" "Glue with an egg beater," finished Tom with a wink at his friends. "By the way, Tubblets, do you know what I heard some girls say last week? They said they thought you were a regular fashion plate." "Now did they really?" gushed the dude, much pleased. "Who--er--said it?" "Two girls living not many miles from here." "You--ah--don't happen to know their names?" "No. But I can tell you all about them." "Ah! Then please do, Tom," said the dude eagerly. To have any young ladies think of him pleased him immensely. "Well, these are a couple of young ladies who work in a laundry. Maybe they wash your shirts. They are colored, and----" "Colored!" gasped the dude, and then a shout of laughter went up, in the midst of which William Philander started to leave the room. "Don't go away mad, Billy," cried Tom. "Isn't it nice even to have two dusky damsels think of you?" "No, it is not--it is--is horrid!" answered William Philander. "I think you are--er--poking fun at me." "Never did such a thing in my life, my dear fellow--it's against my internal regulations. But how have you been since the week before next month?" "I had a delightful vacation." "Took the girls out to ice-cream sociables and yellow teas every day you wasn't playing golf or hop-scotch, I suppose." "I--er--took the young ladies out some--we had glorious times, don't you know. One moonlight night on Lake George I shall never forget, don't you know. We were out in a tiny rowboat and the moon was sparkling over the water, and Geraldine and I----" "Lucky Geraldine!" sighed Tom. "And thrice lucky Philander Willander--I mean William Philander!" "Can't you make up a poem about Geraldine, Songbird?" asked Sam. "And don't forget to put in the moonlight," came from Dick. "And the silvery waves, and murmuring breeze," added Fred. "How much older than you is Geraldine, any how?" quizzed Tom. "Geraldine is----" "You haven't got to tell her age if she is over thirty, Billy," said Larry. "Her age is sacred after that, you know." "And don't tell us even if she has false teeth," came from Sam. "And it doesn't make any real difference whether her hair is her own or not." "It's hers if it is paid for," said Tom. "You don't suppose a girl that Billy would fall in love with would wear tresses that were stolen?" "And to think she may be fat!" sighed Sam. "I hope she doesn't weigh over two hundred, Willy." "Oh dear me!" cried the dude, in desperation. "I want you to remember----" "That she is yours and yours only," finished Tom. "Yes, nobody shall walk in your corn patch, Bill--not over my dead body. But tell us--secretly if you must--does she wear a number eight shoe or a twelve?" "If you don't stop your fooling----" gasped the dude. "He is going to keep his dreadful secrets to himself," cried Tom, mournfully. "Alack! and too bad! But never mind, we'll all come to the wedding, Tubblets, and bring lemons if you say so?" "Who said I was going to get married?" "Is it to be a church affair or just a little private home gathering?" went on Tom, seriously. "If it's to be in a church, and you want us all for rushers--I mean ushers, why----" "We'll all be on the job," finished Dick. "Wouldn't miss the chance for a farm with a blind mule thrown in." "Vots der madder mid me peing a flower girl?" asked Hans, grinning broadly. "No, Hansy, you'll have to carry Billy's coat-tails for him," said Fred. "The latest style from London, don't you know, is to have them trailing on behind like----" "Oh, stop! stop!" screamed William Philander, putting his hands to his ears. "You are all perfectly horrid, don't you know! I'll not remain another minute!" and he fled from the dormitory, the laughter of the crowd ringing in his ears as he departed. CHAPTER XII WHAT HAPPENED ON THE STAIRS In a few days the Rover boys felt perfectly at home once more--indeed it was as if they had never been away, so Sam said. The majority of the students were old friends, although there was a fair sprinkling of new boys. It was not until the end of the week that Dick Rover came into contact with Tad Sobber, a stocky youth, with a shock of black hair and eyes which were cold and penetrating. Sobber was with a chum named Nick Pell, and both eyed Dick in a calculating manner which was highly offensive. "He's the fellow who does the hero act," whispered Sobber to Pell, in a manner meant to reach Dick's ears. "Wants to make a regular grand-stand play all the time." Without hesitation Dick wheeled about. "Was that remark intended for me?" he demanded, sharply. His suddenness took Tad Sobber off his guard. "What if it was?" he demanded in return. "I don't like it, that's all." "Humph! I don't care whether you like it or not," grunted Sobber. "See here, Tad Sobber, let us have an understanding," said Dick, calmly. "I understand that you are trying to bully everybody in this school. Now, this cannot be. We have had several bullies here and we have gotten rid of them all. We want no more." "Humph! Trying to be the bully yourself, eh?" sneered Sobber. "No, I am only giving you warning. The other boys have told me about you." "Tad has a right to act as he pleases," put in Nick Pell. "No, he has not. Captain Putnam expects every student here to be a gentleman." "Oh, don't preach, Rover," cried Tad Sobber. "I can take care of myself without your advice." "Well, I warn you to keep your distance so far as I am concerned and keep a civil tongue in your head," said Dick. What this war of words might have led to there is no telling. Just at that moment the school bell rang, and all of the students had to hurry to their respective classes. It may be mentioned here that Sam, Tom and Dick were now in the same grade. This may be wondered at, but the fact of the matter was that Sam, by hard work the term previous, had caught up to Tom, while Dick, because of being away on some business for his father at various times, had dropped a little behind. "Had a little run-in with Sobber," said Dick to his brothers, when he got the chance, and related the particulars. "He said something about me behind my back," said Sam. "I don't know what it was, but I am certain it was nothing complimentary." "We must watch him," said Tom. "If we do not, he may try to play us foul." As this was to be their last term at Putnam Hall, all of the Rovers determined to do their best in their studies, so they spent no time in fooling while at their classes. Once or twice Tom found it hard to resist playing a joke, but a look from Dick usually made him turn to his books again. It was now the season for football, and several school teams had been organized. Tom and Dick were on one team, headed by Larry Colby. There was another team headed by Tad Sobber, and on this Nick Pell was a quarterback. How Sobber had ever gotten the captaincy of this team was a mystery. "They want to play us next Saturday," said Larry, one afternoon. "What do you fellows say?" He put the question to his fellow members of the eleven. "I don't care much to play Sobber and Pell," said Tom, promptly. "Exactly the way I feel about it," added Dick. "But I'll play if the rest want to." Some demurred, but in the end the match was arranged, and it started on the school grounds at two o'clock the following Saturday afternoon. "I think it will be useless to try any mass playing," said Larry. "Sobber and Pell and some of the others are too heavy for us. We'll have to trust to some swift passes and quick runs." In the first half of the game Sobber's eleven got ten points, while Larry's team got nothing. "Sobber is too brutal for me," said Tom. "He deliberately kicked me in the shins." "If he does it again, knock him down," advised Dick, promptly. Larry's eleven went into the second half with vigor. They soon got a goal and followed it up by two more. Then Sobber claimed a foul, but it was not granted. "If anybody is fouling it is you," said Dick. "You fouled Tom twice. If you do it again----" "Never mind, Dick," interrupted Larry. "Go on and play, or give up," he added to Tad Sobber. "I want Dick Rover to understand that he----" began Sobber, when another player pulled him back. Some hot words followed, and then the game proceeded. Larry's eleven made another touchdown and kicked the goal,--and thus won a substantial victory, much to Sobber's disgust and that of his crony, Nick Pell. "No use of talking, those Rover boys make me sick," said Sobber, when he and Nick Pell were alone. "Everybody in this school seems to toady to them." "If I had been you I'd have pitched into Dick Rover on the gridiron," answered Pell. "Well, I wanted to, but the others wouldn't have it. But I'll polish him off some day--and polish off Tom, too," added Sobber, uglily. Two of the small boys of the school had been taken sick, and in order to keep them quiet they were removed to the top floor of the institution, and one of the colored waiters was ordered to carry their meals up to them. Dick knew both of the lads, and he frequently went up to pay them a visit and cheer them up a bit. One day he was just returning from a visit to the sick students when he heard a noise in the hallway on the second floor. He looked down the stairs and saw Tom and Tad Sobber near a landing, having a wordy quarrel. Nick Pell was approaching and so were Fred and Hans. "For two pins I'd give you a good thrashing, Rover," the bully was saying. "You can't lord it over me, understand that." "Well, I want you to keep your distance, Tad Sobber," returned Tom. "And I stick to it that you kicked me on purpose during the football game." Both boys were walking to the stairs landing, and Dick and the others who heard the words followed. Then of a sudden the crowd that was gathered saw Sobber catch Tom by the throat. "Le--let go!" gasped Tom. "Take that!" retorted the bully, and banged Tom's head against the wall. There was a scuffle near the stairs, and both boys fell up against the railing. "Look out, Tom!" cried Dick. "He'll throw you down the stairs!" And he tried to go to his brother's assistance. But before he could reach the spot the two contestants had separated. "That for you!" roared Sobber, and aimed a blow for Tom's eye. Tom dodged, and then let out with his right fist. The blow landed on the bully's chin. He tottered backward, lost his balance, and pitched down the stairs. Just as the bully went backwards, a side door of the mess hall opened and the colored waiter who carried the food to the sick lads upstairs came out. He held a trayful of dainties in his hands. Crash! came Sobber into the tray, and he and the dishes and the waiter went to the floor in a confused heap. [Illustration: CRASH! CAME SOBBER INTO THE TRAY.] "Fo' de lan' sake!" gasped the waiter. "What fo' you dun dat to me?" "Oh!" groaned the bully, and tried to get up. On one cheek he had a dab of jelly and his hand and shirt front were covered with broth. The sight was such a comical one that the boys on the landing could not help but laugh. "Yo' dun bust de whole dinnah up!" was the waiter's comment, as he arose and surveyed the wreck. The food had been scattered in all directions and half of the dishes were broken. "It wasn't my fault!" growled Tad Sobber. "Tom Rover knocked me down the stairs." "It was your own fault," cried Tom. "You started the fight, I didn't." "Somebody's got to pay fo' dis smash," said the waiter. "I ain't gwine to do it. Why, I ought to sue yo' fo' damages, dat's wot!" he added, glaring wrathfully at Sobber. "I'll fix Tom Rover for this!" exclaimed the bully, and looked up the stairs at the laughing students. "I'll make him laugh on the other side of his face!" And he ran up the stairs with the intention of attacking Tom again. CHAPTER XIII DORA, GRACE AND NELLIE That Tad Sobber was in a thorough rage was easily to be seen. His eyes were full of hate and he looked ready to fly at Tom and tear him to pieces. All of the boys expected to see a great fight, and some backed away from the landing, to give the contestants more room. But before anything could be done Dick leaped to the front and barred the bully's further progress. "Stop it, Sobber," he said quietly but firmly. "Get out of my way, Dick Rover!" roared the bully. "This is none of your affair." "Then I'll make it my affair," answered the eldest Rover boy. "You shall not attack my brother here." "Don't worry, Dick--I can take care of him," put in Tom, undauntedly, and doubled up his fists. "Maybe he'd like to go down stairs again and smash some more dishes." "Not when John Fly am carryin' dem," put in the colored waiter, who stood looking at the wreckage with a sober face. "I don't want no moah such knockovers, I don't!" And he shook his woolly head decidedly. The noise had summoned numerous cadets to the scene, and now George Strong, the head teacher, appeared. "What is the trouble here?" he demanded. For the moment nobody answered him, and he gazed in wonderment at the broken dishes and the scattered food. "Been a accident, sah," said John Fly. "Dat young gen'man dun fall down de stairs an' knock me ober, tray an' all, sah." "Did you fall down stairs, Sobber?" "No, sir, I was thrown down by Tom Rover," replied the bully. "Thrown down?" repeated the head teacher in surprise. "He attacked me and I hit back," explained Tom. "It was his own fault that he fell down stairs. Had he let me alone there would have been no trouble." "It is false--he hit me first," said the bully. "That is not so," cried Fred. "Sobber struck the first blow." "Yah, dot is der fact alretty," put in Hans. "He vos caught Dom py der throat und knock his head py der vall chust so hard like nefer vos!" "He hit me first, didn't he, Nick?" said the bully, turning to his crony. "I--I think he did," stammered Nick Pell. He did not dare to tell an outright falsehood. "I think it was all Tom Rover's fault," he added, after a surly look from Sobber. "All of you know it is against the rules to fight in this school," said Mr. Strong, sternly. "Well, I only fought after I was attacked," answered Tom, doggedly. "Mr. Strong, whether you believe it or not, my brother speaks the plain truth," came from Dick. "I was coming from Larmore's room and saw it all. Had you been in Tom's place you would have done as he did." These plain words from Dick made George Strong hesitate. He knew the Rover boys well, and knew that they were generally in the right. More than this, he had caught Tad Sobber in a falsehood only the day before. "You may all go to your rooms and I will see about this later," he said. "Sobber, as you broke the dishes, you will have to pay for them." "Can't Rover pay half the bill?" growled the bully. "No, for I cannot see how he is to blame for that." After this some sharp words followed. Tad Sobber was impudent, and as a consequence was marched off to a storeroom which was occasionally used as a "guardhouse" by the teachers and Captain Putnam. Here he had to stay in solitary confinement for twenty-four hours and on the plainest kind of a diet. This imprisonment made Sobber furious, and he vowed he would get square with Tom and Dick for it if it cost him his life. "They may have been able to down other fellows in this school, but they shan't down me," was what he told Nick Pell. "Well, you want to go slow in what you do," answered Pell. "I've been talking to some of the others and I've learned that they got the best of several fellows who were here at different times--Dan Baxter, Lew Flapp and some others." "Humph! I am not afraid of them," growled Tad Sobber. "I suppose they think, because they are rich and have traveled some, they can lord it over everybody. Well, I'll show them a trick or two before I'm done with them." After Tad Sobber came out of confinement the Rover boys thought he might try to play some underhand trick on Tom, and consequently kept their eyes open. But nothing developed for some days, and then it came in a most unexpected way. The boys settled down to their studies, but it was not in their nature to go in for all work and no play. On the following Saturday they asked for permission to visit Cedarville, to buy some things Sam and Tom needed. They took with them Songbird and Hans, and went on foot, the weather being ideal for walking. Just before leaving they saw Sobber and Pell hurry away, also in the direction of the town. "I wonder where they are going?" mused Dick. "Sobber is going to take a run by steamboat to Ithaca," answered Songbird. "I heard him speak to Captain Putnam about it." "Is Pell going along?" "I don't think so." The three Rover boys and their friends were soon on the way. They felt in the best of spirits, and Powell could not resist the temptation to break out into his usual doggerel: "I love to roam o'er hill and dale, In calm or storm or windy gale, I love the valley and the hill, The brooklet and the running rill, I love the broad and placid lake----" "Where we can swim or take a skate," finished Tom, and then went on: "And just remember, of the rest, I love old Putnam Hall the best!" "That last sentiment hits me," said Fred. "Tell you what, fellows, no place like our school." "I dink I make me some boetry alretty," said Hans, solemnly, and began: "I lof to hear der insects hum, I lof to chew on chewing gum! I lof to see der moon shine owit----" "And love to eat my sauerkraut," added Tom gaily. "Songbird, can't you get up some real nice bit of verse about sauerkraut and Limburger cheese for Hans' benefit?" "The idea of poetry about sauerkraut and Limburger cheese!" snorted the verse maker in disgust. "Well, anyway, the lines about the cheese would be good and strong," was Dick's comment. "A poem about sauerkraut wouldn't do for this automobile age," said Sam, dryly. "Why not?" asked Tom. "Because sauerkraut belongs to the cabbage," answered the youngest Rover, and then dodged a blow Tom playfully aimed at him. "I shan't try to make up any more verses," said Songbird. "Every time I try----" "Hullo, here comes a carriage with three young ladies in it," called out Dick. "They look familiar to me," announced Tom. "Yes, they are Dora Stanhope and Grace and Nellie Laning!" he cried. "Well, this is a pleasure," said Songbird, and forgot all about what he was going to say concerning his verse making. The carriage was soon up to them. It was a two-seated affair, and on the front seat were Dora and Nellie and in the rear Grace and Mrs. Stanhope. "We were going to stop at Putnam Hall for a few minutes," said Dora, after the greetings were over. "It was such a lovely day we couldn't resist the temptation to go out for a long drive." "Sorry we won't be at the Hall to receive you," answered Dick, and he gave Dora such an earnest look that the pretty girl blushed. "The girls have something up their sleeve," said Mrs. Stanhope. "And they wanted to see you and Captain Putnam about it." "We are getting up a little party," announced Nellie. "It is to come off at Dora's home some time this fall. We wanted to find out if Captain Putnam would let you and a few of your friends come over." "Oh, he'll have to let us come!" cried Tom. "Why, I wouldn't miss a party for anything!" And he said this so comically that all of the girls laughed. "We haven't set any date yet," said Grace. "But you'll speak to Captain Putnam about it, won't you? We thought you might make up a party of say eight or ten boys, and come over in the carryall." "It's as good as done," announced Sam, with a profound bow. "Please put me down on your card for the first two-step." "Und put me town for a dree-steps," added Hans, and at this there was another laugh. "I don't know whether we'll have dancing or not," said Mrs. Stanhope. "But we'll try to have a good time." "Who do you want us to invite--if we can come?" questioned Dick. "Oh, Dick, we'll leave that to you. Of course we want all who were on the houseboat," and Dora looked at the Rovers and Songbird and Hans. "With Fred that will make six. Shall I ask Larry Colby and George Granbury?" "If you want to--and two more. But please don't ask those boys we just met," went on Dora, hastily. "You mean Tad Sobber and Nick Pell?" questioned Tom, quickly. "One called the other Nick. He was a very large lad," said Mrs. Stanhope. "Sobber and Pell sure," murmured Tom. "What did they do?" "Stood right in the middle of the road and would not get out of the way," explained Grace. "I think they were perfectly horrid!" "They made us drive around to one side and we nearly went into a ditch," added Dora. "And then, after we had passed, they burst out laughing at us," continued Nellie. "They certainly weren't a bit nice." "We'll have to settle with Sobber and Pell for this," said Dick, and his face took on a serious look that bode no good for the cadets who had played so ungallant a part towards his lady friends. CHAPTER XIV AT THE ICE-CREAM ESTABLISHMENT The Lanings and the Stanhopes had been in the best of health since returning from the south. Mrs. Stanhope was no more the pale and delicate person she had been, and her former nervous manner was entirely gone. The cheeks of the three girls were like roses, and it was no wonder that the Rovers thought them the nicest young ladies in the whole world. "Wish we were in a carriage," observed Tom, after the turnout had gone on. "Then we might have gone for a drive together." "I know what Tom would like," said Sam. "A nice buggy and a slow horse, and Nellie beside him----" "Humph, please change the names to Sam and Grace and you'll hit it closer," answered Tom, his face growing red. "I'm going to make up a poem about them some day," said Songbird. "I shall call it--let me see--ah, yes--The Three Fair Maidens of Cedarville." "Don't!" cried Dick. "Songbird, if you dare to do anything like that----" "You'll have to leave Dora out anyway," said Tom. "If you don't, Dick will get in your wool sure. He----" "Say, what about Sobber and Pell?" broke in the eldest Rover, his face quite red. "I feel like punishing them for making the ladies drive into the ditch." "We'll remember it," answered Sam. "If we catch them in Cedarville let's speak of it and see what they have to say for themselves." "Speaking about a party," observed Songbird, as they approached the village, "do you realize that we haven't had any sort of a feast at the Hall since we got back to the grind?" "Fred was saying the same thing only a few days ago," answered Tom. "We certainly ought to have some sort of a blow-out." "Vot you vos going to plow owid?" asked Hans innocently. "Blow out the stuffings from a mince pie, Hansy." "Vere you vos plow dem to, Dom?" "Blow them into your stomach. Have a spread--a feast--a fill-up, so to speak--something to eat, cheese, sandwiches, cake, pie, pudding, jam, oranges, bananas, lard, salt, plum pudding, toothpicks, ice-cream, turnips, and other delicacies," went on the fun-loving Rover, rapidly. "Ach, yah, I understand now, ain't it! I like dem feasts. Ve haf him in von of der pedrooms alretty yet, hey?" "If the crowd is willing," said Sam. "For one, I vote in favor of it." "Second the nomination," put in Tom, promptly. "It is elected by a unanimous vote we have a feast at the school, some night in the near future, at eleven o'clock, G. M." The idea of a feast pleased all the boys. They always got enough to eat during regular meal hours at the Hall, but there was something enticing in the idea of having a feast on the sly some night in one of the dormitories. They had had a number of such in the past and these had been productive of a good deal of sport. "Let us go down to the steamboat landing and see if we can see anything of Pell and Sobber," suggested Dick. "If Sobber is going to Ithaca he'll most likely go by the _Golden Star_." They were walking along the main street of Cedarville when they chanced to look into the principal candy store. There, in front of the soda fountain, were the bully of the Hall and his crony. They were drinking soda and talking to a young girl who had served them. "Hullo, here they are!" cried Sam, and came to a halt. As they looked into the place they saw Tad Sobber reach over the counter and catch the girl clerk by her curls. He held fast, grinning into her face, while she tried to pull away from him. "The mean wretch!" cried Dick. "He tries to make himself as obnoxious as he can to everybody he meets." "Oh, please let go!" came in the girl's voice through the open doorway. "You hurt me!" "Don't worry, I won't hurt you," replied Sobber, still grinning. "But I--I don't want my curls pulled," pleaded the frightened girl. "Oh, please let go, won't you?" "I want you----" began the bully, but did not finish, for at that moment he felt Dick's hand on his ear. Then he received a yank that pained him exceedingly. "Ouch!" he yelled, and dropped his hold of the girl. "Oh, my ear! Dick Rover, what did you do that for?" "I did it to make you behave yourself," answered Dick, sternly. "Sobber, I didn't really think you could be so mean," he went on. "I--I wasn't hurting the girl," grumbled the bully. "And it's none of your business anyway," he added, suddenly, in a blaze of passion. "After this, you leave her alone." Tad Sobber glared at Dick for an instant. Then he raised his glass of soda and attempted to dash it into Dick's face. But Sam saw the movement, knocked up the bully's arm, and the soda went into Nick Pell's ear. "Hi, stop!" roared Nick Pell, as the soda trickled down his neck. "What did you do that for?" "It was Sam Rover's fault," answered Sobber. "My brand new collar is spoilt!" "Charge it to your crony," said Tom. "I'll fix you fellows!" roared the bully, and raised the empty soda glass over Dick's head. But now Tom rushed in and wrenched the glass from Sobber's hand. In the meantime the girl behind the counter had become more frightened than ever and she ran to the back of the store to summon assistance. It looked as if there might be a regular fight, but in a few seconds the proprietor of the store appeared, armed with a mop stick he had picked up. He happened to be the father of the girl, and she told him how Tad Sobber had caught her by the hair. "See here," began the candy store keeper, and flourished his mop stick at the bully. Then Sobber retreated from the establishment and Nick Pell did likewise, and both started on a run up the street. "What do you cadets mean by coming in here and annoying my daughter?" demanded the storekeeper hotly. "If you can't behave yourselves, you had better keep away." "We didn't hurt your daughter," said Sam. "My brother here did what he could to save her from annoyance," said Tom. "Oh, I know you cadets! You are all tarred with the same brush!" muttered the storekeeper. "I want you to get out--and stay out!" "Yes, but----" began Dick. "No 'buts' about it, young man. I want you to get out." "Father, he made the other boy let go of my curls," explained the girl. "He caught the other boy by the ear." "That may be, Fanny, but these young bloods are all alike. I don't want their trade. They must clear out, and stay away." "Come on, fellows," said Dick. "We'll not stay if we are not wanted." He turned again to the storekeeper. "But I want you to remember one thing: We had nothing to do with annoying your daughter." "Did they pay for the soda?" asked the man suddenly. "No," replied the girl. "Then this crowd has got to pay," went on the storekeeper, unreasonably. "How much was it?" "Ten cents." "We haven't bought anything and we'll not pay for anything," said Sam. "Not a cent shall I pay," put in Songbird. "Did vos a outrages!" burst out Hans. "Of you insult us some more I vos call a bolicemans alretty!" And he puffed up his chest indignantly. "Well, you get out, and be quick about it!" cried the man, and raised his stick. "Don't let me catch any of you in here again either!" "Don't worry,--we can spend our money elsewhere," said Tom. "Where we are treated decently," added Dick, and walked from the candy store. Once outside, the boys talked the situation over for all of ten minutes, but without satisfaction. All were indignant over the way the storekeeper had treated them, and Tom wanted to go back on the sly and play a trick on him, but Dick demurred. "Let it go, Tom. He is a mean man, that's all." "Well, I am going to show folks how generous he is," answered Tom, with a sudden grin. "Wait here a few minutes," and he darted into a nearby store where they sold stationery. When he came out he had a good-sized sheet of paper in his hand and also several big red seals. "What's that?" asked Sam. "It's a sign for the candy storekeeper's front window." With caution Tom went back to the store. He saw that the proprietor was in the rear parlor, dishing out ice-cream to several customers who had come in. The girl was also at the back. Swiftly Tom stuck the sheet of paper up under the show window, fastening it with the gummy seals. The paper read as follows: FREE BOUQUETS OF ROSES TO ALL YOUNG LADIES BUYING ICE-CREAM HERE TO-DAY. COME IN! "Now let us watch for some fun," said Tom. They had not long to wait. The steamboat had come in and a number of passengers were walking up the street. Soon a party of three girls and a young man espied the sign. "Oh, Clara," cried one of the girls. "Free roses this time of year, just think of it!" "Come on right in," said the young man, and led the way into the store. Then another young man came along with a girl and they also read the sign and entered. Soon two old maids stopped and read the announcement. "I do love ice-cream, Angelina," said one. "Let us go in and get chocolate and get the bouquets, too." And they followed the crowd inside. The store had two side windows to it, which were opened a few inches from the bottom for ventilation, and the cadets stole up to these windows to listen to the talk. Everybody ordered cream and began to eat, and then asked for the bouquets. "Bouquets?" asked the storekeeper, mystified. "Why, yes," said the young man who had brought in the three girls. "If you don't mind, I'd like Jack roses," said one of the maidens. "And I like American Beauties," said another. "I don't care what kind I get so long as it is a big bunch," added the third girl. "What are you talking about?" demanded the storekeeper. "We are talking about the bouquets you are giving away," said the young man. He had eaten nearly all of his cream and the girls had almost finished. "I am giving away no bouquets." "Why, yes you are!" cried the girls. "Of course!" put in one of the old maids, suspiciously. "And I want just as good a bunch of roses as anybody." "So do I," added the second old maid. "Are you folks all crazy?" demanded the storekeeper. "I am not giving away anything." "What!" demanded the young man who had come in with one girl. "Your sign don't read that way. It says 'free bouquets of roses to all young ladies buying ice-cream here to-day.' You've got to give this young lady her bouquet or I won't pay for this cream!" "Where is that sign?" demanded the storekeeper, and when told rushed out and tore the announcement down and into shreds. "This is a--an outrage! I didn't put the sign up!" After this there was a wordy war lasting several minutes. Nobody wanted to pay for the cream eaten, and as he could not furnish the bouquets the storekeeper could not collect. In a rage he chased the would-be customers out and then started to look for the person who had played him such a trick. But the cadets of Putnam Hall had withdrawn from that vicinity and they took good care to keep out of sight. CHAPTER XV AN ASTONISHING GIFT The steamboat had to take on considerable freight at Cedarville, so she remained at the little dock for the best part of half an hour. During that time the Rovers and their friends saw Tad Sobber and Nick Pell walking around the village, but did not speak to them. "Hullo, here is something new," said Songbird, as they walked past the stores. "A dime museum!" "Such a thing as that will never pay here," was Dick's comment. "Not enough people." "It is to remain only one week," said Sam, after reading the sign over the door. "Wonder if they really have one hundred snakes in the collection?" mused Tom, also reading the sign. "If so, there would be some fun if the bunch broke loose." "Want to go in and look at the snakes?" asked Songbird. "I ton't," answered Hans. "Of I look at so many of dem nasty dings I couldn't sleep for a month or sefen days, ain't it!" And he shuddered. While the boys were walking away they chanced to look back and saw Tad Sobber and Nick Pell come from the "museum," so called. The bully was talking to a man connected with the show, a fellow who usually stood outside, "barking" as it is called,--that is, asking folks to come up and walk in and see the wonders inside. "Sobber must know that fellow," was Dick's comment, but thought no more of this until long afterwards. A little later they saw the bully embark on the steamboat, and Nick Pell started back for Putnam Hall alone. The boys purchased the things they wanted and returned to the school. They did not see Nick Pell until the following day, and then the latter paid no attention to them. Sobber did not return to Putnam Hall for the best part of a week. Then he appeared very thoughtful and he eyed all of the Rover boys in a crafty, speculative way. "He has got it in for us," said Tom, but how much Tad Sobber "had it in" for the Rovers was still to be learned. The boys had not forgotten about the proposed feast, and it was arranged that it should come off in the dormitory occupied by the Rovers and some others on the following Tuesday night as soon as all the lights were out. Word was passed around quietly, and the Rover boys thought that only their intimate friends knew of what was going on, but they were mistaken. By pure accident Nick Pell overheard Larry Colby and Fred Garrison speaking of the feast. It had been arranged that Larry and Fred should contribute a big raisin cake and the two boys were wondering how they could get it from the bake shop in Cedarville and up to the dormitory without being seen. "Never mind, we'll manage it somehow, if we have to use a rope," said Larry. "They are going to have a spread," said Nick Pell, running up to Tad Sobber with the story. "We ought to tell Captain Putnam and spoil things for them." "That won't do us any good, Nick," answered the bully. "The captain thinks too much of the Rovers--he wouldn't punish them much, especially as this is their last term here. I'll think up something else. I want to do something to 'em that they will remember as long as they live." "You seem to be extra bitter against the Rovers since you got back from Ithaca," said Pell, curiously. "Am I? Well, I have good cause to be bitter," growled Tad Sobber. "Just let me put on my thinking cap, and I'll fix 'em, and don't you forget it!" That night the bully asked for permission to go to Cedarville on important business. He went alone, and once in the town hurried directly to the museum already mentioned. The proprietor had done little or no business in the village and was about to move to another place. When Tad Sobber returned to Putnam Hall he carried under his arm a heavy pasteboard box which he carried with great care. This box he hid away in a corner of the barn, among some loose hay. "I'm ready to fix the Rovers now," he told Nick Pell. "Keep your mouth shut but your eyes wide open." "What are you going to do?" "Just wait and see." At the appointed time the Rovers and their chums assembled in the dormitory for the feast. A large quantity of good things had been procured, including chicken sandwiches, cake, oranges and lemonade. Tom had even had a dealer in Cedarville pack him up several bricks of ice-cream, and these now rested in some cracked ice in a washbowl. "Say, but this is a touch of old times," said Sam. "Do you remember the first feast we had here, when Mumps got scared to death?" "Indeed I do!" cried one of the other students. "Here's to the good old times!" and he raised his glass of lemonade to his lips. In a short while the feast was in full swing. There was a hall monitor supposed to be on guard, but Tom had bought him off with a slice of cake, some candy and an orange, and he was keeping himself in a front hallway, where he could not hear what was going on. "If it wasn't for the noise, we might have a song," said Sam. "As it is, I move Songbird recite 'Mary Had a Little Cow,' or something equally elevating." "I can give you an original bit of verse which I have entitled, 'When the Blossoms Fill the Orchard, Molly Dear,'" answered the doggerel maker. "Gracious, that sounds like a new nine-cent piece of sheet music," murmured Dick. "Can't you whistle it?" suggested Tom. "It may sound better." "Play it out on a fine-tooth comb," suggested Larry. "Who is ready for ice-cream?" asked Tom, after a general laugh had ensued. "This isn't going to keep hard forever." All were ready, and the bricks were cut, the pieces laid on tiny wooden plates which had been provided, and passed around. Then came more cake and fruit. In the midst of the jollification there came a sudden and unexpected knock on the door. "Who can that be?" whispered several in alarm. "Put out the lights!" said Tom. "Those who don't belong here get under the beds." And he began to get the evidences of the feast out of sight, Dick and Sam assisting him. With quaking hearts the merry-makers waited for the knock to be repeated, and waited to hear the sound of Captain Putnam's voice or that of the first assistant teacher. "Bartlett might have warned us," whispered Fred. Bartlett was the monitor who had been bribed. No other knock came on the door, nor did anybody demand admittance. The boys waited for several seconds, each holding his breath in anxiety. "Who can it be?" asked Sam of his oldest brother. "I suppose I might as well go and see," said Dick. "Maybe some of the other fellows are up to some tricks." With caution he approached the hall door and opened it. Only a dim light was burning, and for the instant he could see nothing. Then he caught sight of a white object on the floor and picked it up. It was a pasteboard box, tied with a strong string. "This must be some kind of a joke," he said, and came back into the dormitory with the box in his hands. "Light up and let me see what this is." The lights were lit and several of the boys began to eat the stuff that had been swept out of sight. They all gazed curiously at the pasteboard box. "Here's a card on the top," said Dick, and commenced to read it. The inscription was as follows: _To the Rover Boys From Their Friends, Dora, Grace and Nellie._ _Keep it a secret among you and your chums at the feast._ "How in the world did they know we were going to have a feast?" questioned Sam. "And how did they manage to smuggle the box into the Hall?" asked Larry. "Open it and see what's inside, Dick," came from Tom. "I'll wager they have sent us something good." "Maybe it's a loaf cake," said Fred. "Oder a pudding," broke in Hans. "I lof chocolate puddings, yah!" "You can't pack a pudding in a box very well," commented Songbird. Holding the box in one hand, Dick undid the string and threw off the cover. The next instant he let out a yell of horror and Tom, who was near by, did likewise and fell over a chair in his fright. For out of the box glided a real, live snake, fully three feet long, and with beady and dangerous looking eyes! [Illustration: FROM OUT OF THE BOX GLIDED A REAL, LIVE SNAKE.] CHAPTER XVI THE HUNT FOR A SNAKE "It's a snake!" "And it's alive!" "Look out, or he'll bite you!" "There he goes on the floor!" These and a number of other cries rang through the dormitory as the cadets saw the contents of the box. Several tried to back away, and Hans pitched over Tom and both went in a heap. "Ton't you let dot snake bite me!" roared the German youth. "Maybe he's poisonous!" came from Larry. He had sought safety by leaping on a bed. Slowly the snake had lifted itself from the box, to glare at several of the boys. Then its cold, beady eyes were fixed on Dick and it uttered a vicious hiss. This was more than the eldest Rover could stand and he let box and snake drop in a hurry. The snake glided out of sight under a bed. "This is a joke right enough," murmured Sam. "Wonder who played it?" "Do you think the girls would send a snake?" queried Larry. "Of course not," answered Tom, who had scrambled up. "This is the work of some enemy." "Look out! The snake is getting busy!" screamed Sam, and he was right; the reptile had left the shelter of the bed and was darting across the room, in the direction of Songbird. The would-be poet did not stop to argue with his snakeship, but letting out a wild yell leaped to the top of a small stand which stood in a corner. The stand was frail and down it went with a crash, the wreckage catching the snake on the tail. It whipped around and made a lunge at Songbird's foot, but the youth was too nimble and leaped on the bed. "We've got to kill that snake," observed Dick, after the reptile had disappeared for a moment under a washstand. "If we don't----" Crash! It was a plate which Sam shied at the snake, as its head showed for a moment. Then down went a shower of shoes, brushes, plates, and a cake of soap. But the snake was not seriously hurt. It hissed viciously and darted from one side of the dormitory to the other, and made all the boys climb up on the furniture. "This racket will wake up everybody in the school," said Dick, and he was right. The boys had hardly time to get the most of the evidence of the feast out of the way when they heard a knock on the door. "Look out there!" yelled Tom. "Don't open that door if you value your life!" "What's the matter?" came in George Strong's voice. "A snake!" answered Dick, and then went on in a whisper: "Quick, boys, get the rest of the stuff out of the way!" His chums understood, and the remains of the feast were swept under bed covers in a jiffy. "Did you say there was a snake in there?" demanded the teacher. "Yes, sir," said Sam. "He's right close to the door now." And what he said was true. Thinking the youngest Rover might be fooling, the first assistant teacher opened the door cautiously and peered into the dormitory. Then he, too, let out a cry of alarm, for the snake darted forward and made as if to bite him in the foot. Not to be caught he fell back, leaving the door open about a foot. Through this opening the snake glided and disappeared in the semi-dark hallway. By this time Putnam Hall was in an uproar, and boys were pouring into the hallways demanding to know if there was a fire or a robbery. Soon Captain Putnam appeared, wrapped in a dressing robe and wearing slippers. "Beware, all of you!" cried George Strong. "It's a snake and it is loose in this hallway somewhere." "A snake!" ejaculated the master of Putnam Hall. "Where did it come from?" "It was in the dormitory over there. I heard a noise and went to see what was the matter and the snake came out of the room and made off in that direction," and George Strong pointed with his hand. "Humph!" muttered Captain Putnam. "This must be looked into. What kind of a snake was it?" "I don't know, sir, but it was fully three feet long, and it hissed loudly as it went past me." "Some more of the boys' tricks, I suppose. But this is going too far, especially if the reptile is poisonous." Lights were lit and turned up as high as possible, and a search of all the hallways followed. When the cadets learned that a snake was really at large in the school many of the timid ones were badly frightened. "He might poison a fellow and kill him," said one lad. "Oh, I can't bear snakes," said another. "If he came for me I'd have a fit sure." The search for the snake was kept up the best part of an hour, but without success. Peleg Snuggers was forced to join in the hunt and nearly collapsed when he saw something under a stand in a far corner. "The snake! The snake!" he yelled and started to run away. But what he had seen proved to be nothing but a piece of old window cord, and the general utility man was laughed at so heartily he was glad to sneak out of sight. "He must have gone downstairs," said Dick, and then a hunt was made below. Here some windows had been left open for ventilation, and Captain Putnam said it was possible the reptile had made its escape in that manner. He did not quite believe this, but he thought the snake must be harmless, and he wanted to say something to quiet those pupils who were timid. "How did the snake get in your room?" he asked later on of the Rovers and their dormitory fellows. "It came in this box," answered Dick, and brought forth the pasteboard box in question. "Somebody knocked on the door and when we opened it the box was on the floor." Captain Putnam looked at the box and the inscription. "Your lady friends must have peculiar tastes," he said, smiling. "Of course that was a trick--just to get us to take the box and open it," answered Tom. "Do you suspect anybody, Thomas?" "Well--not exactly," said the fun-loving Rover, slowly. "What have you to say, Samuel?" "I'm sure I can't imagine who could send that box." "Richard, what can you tell of this?" Dick paused and took a long breath. "I can't tell you anything, just now, Captain Putnam," he answered slowly. "But I've got something of an idea of how that box got here. But I'd hate to accuse anybody unless I was sure of it." "Mr. Strong said the snake was at least three feet long." "It was certainly all of that." "Was it a poisonous snake, do you think?" "It was not a rattlesnake, nor was it any kind of a snake such as are usually found in this part of our country, of that I am sure." "You got a good look at it then?" "Yes." "I certainly had no idea snakes of such size could be found close to the school." "I am pretty sure that snake was never found around here. During my travels I have studied snakes a little, and that variety was a stranger to me." "I see." The master of Putnam Hall mused for a moment. "Well, it is very queer. But, as the snake has disappeared, I think we may as well retire once more. I do not imagine we have anything to fear." It was a good hour before the school was quiet. Many of the boys were afraid to go to bed, and the teachers could not blame them. The Rovers and their chums got together to discuss the situation in whispers and at the same time remove all traces of the feast which had been so curiously interrupted. "Dick, what do you make of this?" asked Tom. "I think Tad Sobber is guilty, Tom--but I didn't want to tell Captain Putnam so." "You think he got the snake out of that museum?" "I do." "I think that myself," put in Sam. "Don't you remember how he was talking to that barker, just as if they were friends? It was surely Sobber who played that trick." "If it was Sobber we ought to pay him back," came from Songbird, grimly. "A snake! Ugh, it makes me creep to think of it." "Don't you want to compose an ode in its honor?" questioned Tom, dryly. "Might go like this: "A hissing, gliding snake Kept all the school awake; Each boy in awful fright Was looking for a bite!" "You can make fun if you want to, but I think it is no laughing matter," observed Fred. "Supposing a fellow goes to sleep and wakes up to find that snake crawling over him! Phew! talk about nightmares!" "It certainly would make a fellow feel queer," answered Sam. "But I say, Dick, if you are sure Sobber did it, why can't we pay him back in his own coin?" "I'm willing, but how can it be done?" "Wait until to-morrow night and I'll show you," answered the youngest Rover. "That is, unless the snake is caught in the meantime." "Have you a plan to get square?" asked Larry. "Yes." "Den go ahead sure," came from Hans. "Of dot Sobber fellow peen guilty he ought to be hung up on der pottom of der sea alretty quick!" "Just wait, and we'll fix Mr. Tad Sobber," answered Dick. "He'll wish he never saw a snake." He had an inkling of what was in his brother Sam's mind to do. CHAPTER XVII A STIRRING SCENE IN THE SCHOOLROOM The hunt for the snake was continued all of the next day, but without success. By that time the excitement had died down and a good many of the cadets forgot all about the incident. A few said it must be a joke and they laughed behind George Strong's back. "It's one of Tom Rover's tricks," said one pupil. "I'll wager he is laughing in his sleeves at Mr. Strong and Captain Putnam." "Do you think it was a live snake?" asked another. "No, it was probably a toy affair on a string." In the secrecy of their room Tad Sobber and Nick Pell laughed heartily over the excitement created--that is, Pell laughed and the bully laughed with him. But Sobber, behind it all, was worried. The truth of the matter was, he had hoped that the snake would be killed. The man who had sold him the reptile had said it was from Central America and poisonous, but had added that the snake was sick and not liable to do any harm. Sobber would not have cared had Dick or his brothers been bitten by the snake, but that the reptile was at large was another story. "Do you think he'd be poisonous enough to kill anybody?" asked Pell, suddenly, and he sobered down as he spoke. "Oh, no, of course not," answered the bully, but he turned his face away as he spoke. He had given five dollars for the snake and now he was willing to give a like sum to make certain of its death. In the afternoon Sam led the way to a little case of reptiles which hung on the wall of the school laboratory. In this was a stuffed snake almost the size of that which had disappeared. "I guess we can frighten Sobber and Pell with that," he said to his brothers. "Anyway, we can try," answered Tom, falling in with the plan at once. "We want to be careful of what we do," added Dick. "Otherwise, the pair will smell a mouse." They talked the matter over, and managed to get the snake upstairs without anybody seeing them. Then they paid a visit to the dormitory occupied by the bully and his cronies and passed some strong black threads across the floor and elsewhere. After that they told Songbird and their other chums of what had been done. That night Sobber, Pell and their friends went to bed as usual. But hardly had they turned out the lights when they heard a curious rustling sound on the floor near the door. "What is that?" asked Pell, who was inclined to be nervous. "I don't know, I'm sure," answered Sobber. The rustling continued, and something seemed to move across the floor. Wondering what it could be, the bully got up and lit a light. Then he gave a yell and leaped back. "The snake!" "Where is it?" screamed Pell, sitting bolt upright and his hair raising on ends. "There it is, over in the corner." "The snake! The snake!" called out the other boys in the room, and some were so scared that they dove under the bed clothing. The light was not strong enough to see clearly, and nobody had the courage to make more of an illumination. Sobber stood in the center of the room and as he did this the snake suddenly seemed to fly through the air right at him. "Oh!" he screamed. "Go away!" and he flopped on his bed and threw a blanket over him. He felt the reptile cross the bed and lay there quaking in mortal terror. Then he heard something moving across the floor. "That snake is bound to bite me!" he muttered to himself. "Oh, why did I bring it to the school!" "Call Captain Putnam, somebody!" came from Nick Pell. He was so frightened he could scarcely speak. There was an emergency bell near the door, to be used in case of fire, and this one of the boys touched. At once the alarm sounded out, and in a few minutes the hallways were filled with pupils as on the previous night, while some of the teachers and Peleg Snuggers appeared with chemical fire extinguishers in their hands. "Where is the fire?" "Shall I telephone for the Cedarville fire department?" "Has anybody been burnt?" "What room is it in?" Such were some of the questions asked. Then Captain Putnam rushed on the scene. "It's the snake again!" wailed one of the cadets, who now stood bolt upright on his bed, his eyes bulging from his head. "Are you sure?" "Yes, the snake is in here," answered Tad Sobber. "Why, it fairly jumped over my bed!" "He tried to bite me in the face!" came from Nick Pell, who was so excited he scarcely knew what he was saying. More lights were lit, and Captain Putnam went off to get a shotgun. "If I catch sight of it, I'll blow it to pieces," he said to George Strong. A long search followed, and then came a sudden cry from a corner of the dormitory. "There he is!" "Shoot him, Captain Putnam!" The master of the Hall took aim and came up slowly. Then he suddenly dropped the barrel of his shotgun, stepped forward, and took hold of the snake by the tail. "It's a stuffed snake," he said. "It belongs in the case in the laboratory." "A stuffed snake?" queried Tad Sobber, and when he realized the truth he was the maddest boy in that school. "See here," said the master of the Hall, turning to Dick. "Was this what you saw last night?" "No, sir," was the prompt reply. "What we saw was a real, live snake." "Indeed it was," said George Strong. "Are you sure this one is from the case in the laboratory, Captain Putnam?" questioned Andrew Garmore, one of the teachers. "Yes, I know it well. Besides, here is the label on it." "Well, I looked at the case early this morning and it was filled as it has always been." "It's a trick on me!" roared Tad Sobber, angrily. "Just wait, I'll get square with somebody for this!" And he looked sharply at the Rovers. "Sobber must like snakes--I saw him at the museum in Cedarville one day," answered Dick, and eyed the bully boldly. At this Sobber grew red in the face and slunk out of sight. "Get to bed, all of you," said Captain Putnam sharply. "I'll investigate this in the morning." As on the night before, it took the school a long time to quiet down. The Rover boys and their chums had a hearty laugh over the success of the trick. "My! but Sobber is mad," said Fred. "You want to watch out, he'll do almost anything to get square." The promised investigation the next day did not materialize, for the reason that Captain Putnam was called away on important business. Thus two days passed, and the snake incident was again practically forgotten by the majority of the students. On the following day the master of the Hall came back and said he would start his investigation that afternoon after the school session. "And let me tell you one thing," he announced. "Whoever brought that real snake into this academy will have to suffer for it." That afternoon in one of the classrooms some of the pupils were reciting history when of a sudden a wild shriek rang through the air and Nick Pell was seen to bounce up out of his seat and run away from his desk as if a demon was after him. "What is it, Pell?" demanded the teacher. "The--the snake!" groaned Nick. "Oh, I'm a dead boy!" "Where is it?" asked a score of voices. "In my desk! It just bit me in the hand! Oh, I'm a dead boy, I know I am!" And Nick Pell shook from head to foot in his terror. The announcement that the snake was in Nick's desk was received in various ways by the boys present. Some thought it must be the real snake and others thought it might be only a trick. With caution the teacher approached the desk, armed with a ruler. Then came a hissing sound and the snake stuck out its head. "It's alive!" yelled a dozen cadets. "Kill it! Kill it!" "You go and kill it!" "I haven't anything." "Neither have I." "Throw a book at it," suggested Tom, and let fly his Cæsar. His aim was good and the snake was hit in the neck and tumbled to the floor. Then the boys threw books, rulers and inkwells at the reptile, and it was driven into a corner. Dick took up a big geography, let it fall on top of the snake, and stood on it. The reptile squirmed, but could not get away, and in a few seconds more it was killed. "That's the end of that snake," said Sam, breathing a sigh of relief. "And I am mighty glad of it." "I am poisoned! I am poisoned!" screamed Nick Pell. "See, my hand is swelling up already!" "Do you think he was really bitten?" whispered Tom. "It looks like it," answered Dick. "Too bad--if the snake really was poisonous." By this time Captain Putnam had come in. He glanced at the dead snake and gave a start. "Did that thing bite you, Pell?" he questioned. "Yes, sir, right here--in--the--the palm of the hand," cried the youth addressed. "See how it is swelling." "I'll telephone for a doctor at once. Come to my office and I will see what I can do for you." Nick had certainly been bitten and now the hand was twice its ordinary size, while the pain was acute. The boy shook like a leaf. "I'm poisoned, I know I am!" he wailed. "It's all Tad Sobber's fault, too! Oh, if I should die!" And then of a sudden he fell to the floor in convulsions. CHAPTER XVIII IN WHICH TAD SOBBER DISAPPEARS All standing near Nick Pell were amazed to see the boy fall to the floor. Captain Putnam and Dick Rover raised him up. His eyes were rolling frightfully and his jaws opened and shut with a snap that was sickening. "Something is certainly wrong with him," whispered Sam to Tom. "Yes, he wouldn't act that way if he was simply frightened," was the reply. "And see his hand!" "We will carry him up to one of the spare bedrooms," said Captain Putnam. "And, Mr. Strong, see to it that we get a doctor here as soon as possible. Tell him it is a case of snake poisoning, and ask him over the telephone what we had best do." Nick Pell was carried upstairs. By this time he had ceased to move and lay like a log in the hands of those who supported him. Many had heard him mention Tad Sobber and all looked at the bully inquiringly. Sobber was deadly pale, but managed to keep up a bold front. "I am not to blame," he said, in answer to a question from one of the teachers. "I didn't put the snake in Pell's desk." "Did you bring the snake into the school?" "Certainly not," answered the bully shamelessly. He made up his mind to keep out of "hot water" even if it was necessary to lie to do it. A hurry call was sent to Doctor Fremley of Cedarville and he came as quickly as his mare could bring him. Only the teachers and the physician were allowed in the bedroom with Pell, so the cadets did not know what took place. "It's as plain as day," said Dick to his brother and his chums. "Sobber got the snake and put it in the box. That is why Pell said he was to blame." "But Sobber told a teacher he did not bring the snake into the Hall," answered Songbird. "I do not believe him," came from Tom. "Nor do I," added Sam. "He's a bad egg, if ever there was one." The poisoning of Nick Pell cast a damper over the whole school, and neither the teachers nor the pupils could settle down to lessons. The doctor remained with the sufferer for two hours, and when he went away he looked very grave. "He is by no means out of danger," announced the physician. "But let us hope for the best. I think his parents ought to be notified." This was done, and Mr. and Mrs. Pell came on the very next day to see their son. They found him in something of a fever and out of his mind, crying continually for Sobber to take the snake away. "Richard, I want to see you," said Captain Putnam that evening, and led Dick to his private office. There he demanded to know what the eldest Rover knew of the snake incident. "Captain Putnam, I will tell you everything from beginning to end," answered Dick. "If I am to suffer I'll take my punishment, and Tom and Sam say they stand ready to do the same." And thereupon Dick related the particulars of the trouble with the bully and Pell, and of how he and his brothers and Songbird and Hans had seen Sobber and Pell at the museum where the snakes had been. Then he told of the feast, and how the snake had been discovered in the box. "I have kept the box," he added, "and you can look at the writing if you wish. I think it is in Tad Sobber's hand, although somewhat disguised." The address on the box was investigated by the master of the Hall, who sent for several compositions Tad Sobber had written. The bully was much disturbed when he had to give up the compositions to George Strong. "What's that for?" he asked, with a scowl on his face. "Captain Putnam wants them," answered the teacher, and would say no more. With anxious eyes the bully watched the first assistant disappear into the office with the compositions. Then, looking to make sure that he was not observed, he stole up to the door and applied his ear to the keyhole. What he heard filled him with increased alarm. "It is Sobber's handwriting beyond a doubt," said Captain Putnam, after comparing the compositions with the address on the box cover. "I wonder if he knew that the snake was a poisonous one?" "Perhaps Nick Pell can tell that--after he gets over his trouble," returned Dick. "Provided he does get over it, Richard." "Don't you think he'll recover?" cried Dick, in consternation. "He may not. It is a very serious case, so Doctor Fremley informs me." "What does Mr. Pell say about it?" "He wants me to investigate. He says he may have somebody arrested for this--and I can hardly blame him. It was a vile thing to do--bring a poisonous snake into the school." At the mention of arrest Tad Sobber shut his teeth hard. "I guess it's about time I made myself scarce," he muttered. "Perhaps I had better leave and join Uncle Sid." And he walked away silently and up to his room. He remained there about ten minutes, then stole forth and down a back way, a fair-sized bundle under his arm. At the conclusion of the interview in the office Captain Putnam sent for Tad Sobber. One of the monitors went on the errand and came back in quarter of an hour with the information that the youth could not be found. "Did he have permission to leave the grounds?" asked the captain of the teachers. "Not from me," said one instructor after another. Then Peleg Snuggers was sent out to hunt the bully up and soon came back with the information that Sobber was not around the grounds, but had been seen by two of the cadets walking in the direction of Cedarville. Sobber had given one of the cadets a note for the master of the Hall. This ran as follows: "Must go to the village on a matter of great importance. Will explain when I return.--T. Sobber." "Maybe he has gone to find out about that snake," suggested Tom. "How could he?" came from his younger brother. "The museum keeper has moved away." "Tad may know where he moved to," put in Larry. A whole day passed and the bully did not show himself. Then Captain Putnam drove over to the village and attempted to hunt him up, but without success. He learned that the museum man had shipped his outfit to Boston. "He has run away," said the master of the Hall to Mr. Pell and George Strong. "I am satisfied now that he was guilty. But as Nick knew of it, he must have had something to do with it," he added. "I trust my son recovers," answered Mr. Pell, with a deep sigh. But the days went by and Nick Pell still remained in bad shape, very weak and out of his mind for the greater part of the time. During his lucid intervals he told how Sobber had purchased the snake for five dollars, the owner saying it was sick and liable to die in the near future. He added that the bully had said he hoped the snake would bite one of the Rovers. "I didn't want him to use the snake," said the sufferer, "but he insisted, and told me to keep my mouth shut about it." After that poor Nick began to rave again and had to be given some medicine to keep him quiet. During one of his good spells he was removed to a house located about half a mile from Putnam Hall, where he could get the benefit of absolute quietness. His father went back to business, but his mother remained behind to nurse her boy. The Thanksgiving holidays were now at hand, but the Rover boys decided to remain at the Hall and not go home until Christmas. Besides, they were preparing for the party at the Stanhope cottage, which was to come off on the following Wednesday evening. They had seen Dora, Nellie and Grace several times, and all had prepared for "the best time ever," as the girls put it. Captain Putnam gave the boys permission to take the carryall and allowed them to leave the school on the day of the party at six o'clock. "Whoop! here we go!" cried Tom, as he took the whip and cracked it loudly. "Hold on, everybody! Peleg, don't let the team lag," he went on, to the driver. "An' don't you go for to make 'em run away, Master Tom," answered the driver, grimly. "It's a pretty long drive and we don't want to be late," said Dick. "So push ahead as fast as you can." "Say, Tubby, where's your stovepipe hat?" asked Sam of the dude cadet, who formed one of the party. "I--ah--thought it would not be--ah--quite appropriate," lisped William Philander. "Not--ah--being full dress, you know." "He was afraid of having it mashed," said Fred. "Hurrah! We're off! Now for a good night's fun!" They were to have a good night's fun--and a most unusual adventure with it. CHAPTER XIX WHAT HAPPENED AT THE PARTY It was a clear, bright evening when the boys drove over to the Stanhope cottage. All were in high spirits and sang and joked to their hearts' content. For the time being the trouble with Tad Sobber was totally forgotten. So far nothing more had been heard of the bully, and all were satisfied that he had left both Putnam Hall and Cedarville and perhaps for good. "One boy told me he used to live with an uncle in New York City," said Larry. "He didn't know the uncle's name." When the carryall arrived at the Stanhope place they found the cottage well lit up. Dora had invited a number of her girl friends and these, with her cousins, Grace and Nellie, were already on hand. The boys let out a ringing cheer as they stopped at the horse-block, and the girls came out to greet them. "All here?" cried Dora. "All here," was the answer. "Good!" cried several of the girls. "I guess we are a bit early," observed Dick. "But we wanted to make sure we wouldn't be late, and it's a long drive over." "You are not a bit too early," answered Dora, and gave him her dainty hand which he squeezed ardently. Soon the boys were piling out on the ground, and a general handshaking followed. Those who did not know each other were introduced, and everybody walked into the house, where a room upstairs had been prepared for the cadets' reception. "Now, everyone must feel perfectly at home," said Mrs. Stanhope, who was being assisted by Mrs. Laning and Mr. Laning. The older folks prepared the refreshments while the young people sat down in the parlor and the sitting room. At first, as at all parties, there was a little stiffness, but this was soon broken by Tom asking in a solemn voice: "Say, did anybody bring an iceberg in his pocket? If he did he will please set it on the kitchen stove to thaw out." "Oh, Tom!" shrieked Nellie, and all the girls giggled. Then the "ice was broken" and everybody started to talk at once. Even William Philander was pleased, for he had discovered a tall, willowy girl who exactly suited him and who thought him charming. At first they played half a dozen different games and gave out riddles, and Songbird recited a poem written in honor of the occasion. The poem was the best effort he had yet made in the verse line and of course everybody applauded. Then Grace said he ought to have it published in the Cedarville weekly paper, and this pleased the poet very much. "Maybe you can get a dollar a line for it, Songbird," suggested Dick. "If he can we'll let him divide up with us," added Tom, and this caused a laugh. Presently refreshments were announced, and the boys and girls paired off and entered the dining room. Here a long table was spread, decorated with autumn leaves and the Putnam Hall colors. There were six colored candles on the table, each with an elaborate red shade, and the general effect was warm and pleasing. There were plenty of good things to eat, including ice-cream frozen into all sorts of forms. When the forms were passed around, Dick got a drum major, Tom an Uncle Sam, and Sam an airship. Hans got a fat Dutch boy, which tickled him immensely. "Dot vos look chust like some poys by der Fadderlandt," he observed. With the ice-cream came snapper bonbons, filled with all sorts of things made of paper, and soon one boy was wearing an apron, another a nightcap, and the like. Dora got a yellow jacket, and Nellie a baker's cap, while Grace skipped around wearing a poke hat over a foot high. There was plenty of laughter, and the old folks did not hesitate to join in. Nuts and raisins followed the ice-cream, and then the young folks went back to the sitting room and the parlor to finish their games and have some music. "Dora, you must play for us," said Dick, and led her to the piano. Then, while some of the others gathered around the girl played "Waiting for the Wagon," "Aunt Dinah's Quilting Party," and a number of other favorites, and these the crowd sang lustily. "Guess it is about time for us to leave," whispered Fred to Dick, presently. "I know you'll like to have Dora play all night for you, but it can't be done." Dick looked at his watch. "Phew! as late as this!" he exclaimed softly. "Yes, we'll have to go." "Let us sing 'Home, Sweet Home,'" suggested one of the boys, and Dora struck up the opening chords. They were in the midst of the first verse when Dick chanced to glance towards one of the windows and stopped short. A man was outside peering in at the party. [Illustration: A MAN WAS OUTSIDE PEERING IN AT THE PARTY.] It was Merrick! "Well, I never!" burst out the eldest Rover boy, and his sudden exclamation caused Dora to look at him curiously and stop playing. "What is the matter, Dick?" "Did you see that man at the window? He is gone now." "I didn't see anybody." "Who was it?" asked Tom, quickly. "It was that rascal Merrick!" "Merrick!" ejaculated Sam. "The fellow who took Uncle Randolph's bonds?" "The same." "Oh, Dick, you must be mistaken." "I was not mistaken--I saw him as plain as day. I am going to look for him," added the eldest Rover, for the man had now disappeared. He ran for the hall door, and the other boys followed. The girls remained in the parlor, much frightened, for it was after midnight. As Dick reached the piazza he saw a dark form stealing along a row of bushes near the garden fence. "There he is!" he exclaimed. "Stop!" he called out, loudly. "Stop, I tell you!" "Who did you say it was?" asked John Laning, as he came from the kitchen with a stout cane in his hand. "That rascal Merrick, one of the two men who stole my uncle's traction company bonds," explained Dick. "What can he be doing here?" "I don't know. There he goes, over the fence!" "He is running towards the side road!" exclaimed Sam. "Come on after him!" "Wait till we get our hats and coats," said Tom, and ran back to pick up the articles mentioned. This took a couple of minutes, and by the time he came back Merrick was out of sight. The three Rovers ran to the side road, Fred Garrison and Mr. Laning with them. "I wish I had a pistol," remarked John Laning. "No telling how desperate a character that villain may be." "I'd like to know if he came on foot or with a horse," said Dick. "Do you think he followed us to this place?" asked Sam. "I am sure I don't know. The whole thing looks mighty queer to me." There was no moon, but the stars were shining brightly, so they could see fairly well on the road. As they reached a bend Tom pointed forward. "There he is, just going into the bushes!" "He had better not go that way," was Mr. Laning's remark, "unless he knows the ground well." "Why not?" asked Sam. "Just beyond that patch of timber is Nixon's Swamp, as it is called--as boggy and treacherous a spot as can be found for miles around. If he don't look out he'll get stuck there and never get out." "Do you know the swamp?" asked Dick. "I mean the good spots?" "Fairly well--I used to come over here when I was a boy--to pick huckleberries. They are plentiful on the other side of the swamp." "Then supposing you lead the way and we'll follow." They were soon in the woods and saw a well-defined path running to the eastward. Beyond was Nixon's Swamp, and still further on another woods. They were afraid they had lost track of the man they were after when they heard a crack ahead of them, followed by a short yell of alarm. Merrick had stumbled over a fallen log and pitched headlong into some thorny bushes. It took him some time to extricate himself, and meanwhile the pursuers drew closer. "I see him!" cried Tom. "He is turning to the right!" "He is headed for the worst part of the swamp," was Mr. Laning's comment. "If he doesn't look out----" A minute later a wild cry rang out from ahead. The cry was repeated twice, and then all became as silent as the grave. "He must have gone down into the swamp," exclaimed Dick. "Yes, and more than likely he is drowning to death," added John Laning. CHAPTER XX DICK AND DORA The boys were almost afraid to penetrate further into the woods, for they found the ground growing wet and spongy under their feet. All halted and gathered around Mr. Laning. "Do you think he has really been drowned?" asked Sam, with a slight shiver. "It may be," was the farmer's reply. "I know of one man who was drowned here some years ago, and every year cattle are lost here. The bottom of the swamp is very sticky, and once a person gets in he sinks down and under." "What shall we do?" questioned Tom. "We can go ahead, but we want to be mighty careful. Don't take a step until you are sure of your footing. If you find yourself sinking, grab hold of some tree or bush." Mr. Laning led the way and the boys followed, until they had covered a distance of fifty or sixty feet. Here the ground was so soft they had to leap from one tree root or clump of bushes to another. As they moved forward they listened intently for some further sound from Merrick, but none came. "Hullo, what's this?" cried Dick, presently, and moved to one side, close to a pool of dark and treacherous-looking water. "A man's hat!" He picked it up and turned it over. On the inside were the initials, S. A. M. "It must be Merrick's," he went on. "Can he have gone down here?" The others came at his call and all looked at the hat, which had been lying in the mud at the side of the pool. Then a match was struck, and all gazed around and into the pool while this faint illumination lasted. No other trace of the missing man was to be seen. "Merrick, where are you?" called out Dick. "If you need help, say so, and we'll try to get you out." "Do you think he'd answer that call?" asked Fred. "I think he'd rather go to prison than die in this swamp," was the reply. The students and Mr. Laning moved cautiously around the edge of the swamp for half an hour and then returned to the roadway. To mark the spot where the hat had been found Dick hung the head covering on a tree limb. "We can come back in the daylight and make another search," said he. "And we can notify the authorities, too." When they got back to the Stanhope cottage they found the others anxiously awaiting their return. "Did you catch him?" "Did he hurt you?" "No, we didn't catch him, and nobody is hurt," answered Mr. Laning. "We lost him in the swamp, and there is no telling where he is now." "I want to get hold of him for two reasons--that is, if he is alive," said Dick. "I want to get back those bonds and I want to know what brought him to this cottage." "Maybe he came here to rob the Stanhopes," whispered Tom. "But I shouldn't tell them, for it will frighten them too much." "No, don't say a word, Tom. If you do, Mrs. Stanhope will be just as nervous as she ever was." "I and my family are going to stay here to-night," announced Mr. Laning; "so we can go on a hunt for that man first thing in the morning." "And I'll drive over, if Captain Putnam will let me," answered Dick. The appearance of Merrick had put a damper on the breaking up of the party, and the Rovers were rather silent as they went back to the school. It was too late to speak to Captain Putnam that night, but Dick was up early and saw the master of the Hall before breakfast. "I trust you had a good time last night," said Captain Putnam, smiling. "We did have, sir," said Dick. "But our party broke up in a way we didn't anticipate," and then he told of what had occurred. The captain had heard of the missing traction company bonds, and he readily allowed Dick to go back to the cottage, using a horse and buggy for that purpose. Sam and Tom wanted to go, too, but to this Captain Putnam demurred. "I think one is enough, especially as Mr. Laning is there, too," he said. With a good horse and a light buggy, it did not take long for the eldest Rover boy to reach the Stanhope cottage. The family had just had breakfast and were surprised to see him so early. "Didn't you have anything to eat?" questioned Dora. "If you didn't, come right in, and I'll make you an omelet and some coffee." "No, thank you, Dora," he whispered. "I'll have to wait for that until we're keeping house together. Then----" "Oh, Dick!" she cried and blushed like a rose. "I had breakfast while driving over,--an orange and some sandwiches," went on the youth. "Mrs. Green got them ready for me. Is there anything new?" "No. Uncle John is waiting for you. He is in the woodshed, trying on some old rubber boots. He says one ought to have rubber boots to go into the swamp with." Dick hurried to the woodshed and there found that Mr. Laning had unearthed two pairs of boots, and he donned one pair while the farmer put on the other. A little later both got in the buggy and drove up the road they had traveled the night previous. Then they tied the horse to a tree, and followed the path leading to the edge of the swamp. "Hullo, the hat is gone!" exclaimed Dick, as he came close to the black pool. "Maybe it dropped to the ground," suggested John Laning. Both looked around, but could see nothing of the missing head covering. Then Dick caught sight of a slip of paper pinned to the tree. "Here is a message of some kind," he said, and read it. The message ran as follows: "I reckon I fooled you this trip. I was up in the tree all the time. By the time you get this I shall be miles away. Ta ta until the next time." "Humph!" muttered Dick. "What do you think of that?" And he passed the message to his companion. "He certainly fooled us," answered Mr. Laning. "I suppose those yells were only to put us off our guard. It's a pity we didn't carry his hat off for a souvenir of the occasion--as you youngsters put it." And the farmer grinned. "Perhaps he is still around," suggested Dick. "If he tried to fool us once he might try to fool us again." "That's so, too. It won't do any harm to take a good look around while we are at it, Dick." They spent the whole of the morning walking around the swamp and in trying to trace the movements of Merrick, but without success. Nothing concerning the rascal was to be found, and when they felt both tired out and hungry they returned to the Stanhope cottage. Here the girls and the ladies had a hot dinner awaiting them and served them liberally, finishing up with apple pie that Dora had made for Dick's especial benefit. "It's fine!" he said to her, on the sly. "Then you like it?" she answered, with a smile. "Do I? Dora, when we're keeping house you shall make me a pie like this twice a week," he added, earnestly. "Dick, if you don't stop your joking----" "Oh, I'm not joking, Dora. Of course, if you're not willing to make me a pie now and then----" "Oh, it isn't that--I'll make all the pies you want. But--but----" And then Dora blushed so furiously that she had to run from the room. Dick looked after her longingly and heaved a mountainous sigh. He wished that all his academy days were over and that he was engaged in business and settled down in life. He knew just what kind of a home he wanted, and who he wanted in it besides himself--and perhaps Dora knew, too. "But I can't think of those things yet," he mused, as he finished his dinner. "I've got to go out into the world first, get into business, and prove my worth." The meal over, it was decided that Dick and Mr. Laning should drive to Cedarville and get into communication with the local authorities and also the authorities at Ithaca. This was done, and the following day another hunt was made for Merrick. But he could not be found; and there, for the time being, the affair rested. "I think we'll hear from him again some day," said Dick, and he was right; they did hear from the swindler, and when they least expected it. CHAPTER XXI A BOB SLED RACE "Whoop! hurrah! it's snowing!" Thus shouted Tom one day, as he burst into the library of the Hall, where Dick, Sam and a number of others were perusing books and the latest magazines. "Hard?" queried Sam, dropping the magazine he held. "No, but steady. Peleg Snuggers says it is going to be a heavy fall, and he generally knows." "And he loves snowstorms so," put in Fred, with a laugh. "Do you remember the time we made a big fort and had a regular battle?" "Indeed I do!" cried Larry. "It was great! We ought to have something of that sort this winter." "I was hoping we'd get skating before it snowed," put in Songbird. "Well, we can't have all the good things at once," answered Dick. "I think a heavy snowstorm is jolly. Somehow, when it snows I always feel like whistling and singing." "And I feel like making up verses," murmured the poet of the school, and went on: "Oh, the snow, the beautiful snow, Coming down when the wind does blow. Coming down both day and night, Leaving the earth a wonderful sight! Oh, the snow, the heavenly snow!----" "Wetting our feet wherever we go!" continued Tom, and added: "Oh, the snow, When the wind doth blow, It sets a pace And hits our face And we are froze Down to the toes And in the slush, That's just like mush, We cannot stop, But go ker-flop!" "Tom, the first thing you know, you'll be taking Songbird's laurels away from him," observed Larry. "Perish the thought!" answered the fun-loving Rover, tragically. "I don't hope you call that poetry," came from Songbird, in deep disgust. "Why, Hans can do better than that; can't you, Dutchy?" "Sure, I can make up some find boetry," answered Hans. "Chust you listen to dis. I make him ub von night ven I couldn't go to sleep." "Der vos a leetle pird, He sits ubon a dree, Dot leetle pird vos habby Like von leetle pird could be A hunter mit a gun Py dot tree did lay, He shoot his awful gun, And dot pird--he fly avay! "Good for Hans!" cried Dick, and there was a general laugh. Then the gathering in the library broke up and all the cadets went outside to see how the snow looked. Before long there was enough on the ground to make snowballs, and then a battle royal all around ensued. So long as they took care not to break any windows, Captain Putnam did not mind this, and from his office the master of the Hall and George Strong watched the sport. "Makes one feel young again," remarked the captain to his first assistant. "I'd half like to go out myself," answered George Strong. "I remember one year we had a great snowball fight at West Point," went on the captain. "It was carried out in regular army fashion and lasted half a day. Our side was victorious, but we had to fight desperately to win. I was struck in the chin and the ear, and three of the cadets were knocked unconscious. But it was good practice, for it showed us something of what a hand-to-hand struggle meant." The snow came down all that day and night, and by the following morning covered the ground to the depth of about a foot. It was somewhat moist and first-class for the making of snow men and snowballs. "Let's make a statue of Captain Putnam," said Fred, and this was done, the statue being nearly ten feet high. It must be confessed it was not a very good likeness, but it looked remarkably fierce with some straws for a moustache, a flat wooden stick for a sword, and an old army cap on the top of the head. When he saw it, Captain Putnam laughed as heartily as anybody. Old as he was getting, he never allowed himself to forget the time when he was a boy. Some distance from the Hall was a fair-sized hill and this was used by the cadets for coasting. As soon as school was over that day the lads brought out their sleds and bobs, and soon the hill was filled with boys, their merry laughter ringing far and wide. The Rovers had a big bob and this was used by the three and also by several of their friends. "I'll race you!" shouted Dick, who was in charge of the bob. He addressed another student named Peter Slade. Slade had a big bob and had been boasting that this could beat any other bob on the hill. "All right," answered Slade. He was a lanky youth, rather lazy, and given to much boasting. It was soon arranged that each bob should carry six boys, and Fred, Hans and Songbird went with the Rovers. The two bobs lined up side by side, and Larry Colby gave the word to go. "We're off!" shouted Tom, giving a shove, and leaping on behind. At first the two bobs kept side by side. The slide was in fine condition, and all the other cadets lined up on either side to watch the outcome of the race. "Hurrah for the Rovers!" "Hurrah for Peter Slade!" "May the best bob win!" cried one student, enthusiastically. "Here's luck to you, Tom!" shouted George Granbury, and threw a snowball that caught Tom in the neck. "Thanks!" shouted Tom, shaking his fist. "I'll pay that back with interest when I get the chance." Half of the course was soon covered and still the bobs kept side by side. But then the Rovers' bob began to drag behind. "Hurrah, we are going to win!" cried one of the boys on the other bob. "Said I could beat you!" yelled Peter Slade to Dick. "The race isn't ended yet," flung back the eldest Rover boy. On and on went the two bobs, and gradually that belonging to Peter Slade drew a full length ahead. Dick glanced back anxiously. "Something seems to be catching under the runners," he said, "Look and see if everything is clear." The boys behind looked, and then of a sudden Songbird let out a cry. "It is Hans' tippet! Hans, go and put that tippet end around your neck and don't let it drag under the bob!" The German youth was wearing an old-fashion tippet around his neck, the loose ends flying behind. One end had gotten under the bob runners and was scratching along in the snow. "Vell I neffer!" cried Hans, and pulled on the tippet so vigorously that the long bob began to switch around sideways. "Look out there!" sang out Sam. "Don't throw us off!" "Wait, I'll loosen the tippet," came from Songbird, and guided the muffler free of the bob. Then Hans took up the ends and tied them around his waist. The drag had caused the Rovers' bob to get two lengths behind the other, and Peter Slade and his companions felt certain of winning. "You can't touch us, Dick Rover!" called Slade, triumphantly. "Good-bye!" called another boy. "We'll tell those at the bottom of the hill that you are coming." "Are we making better time?" questioned Tom, anxiously. "If we are not I'll get off and shove," he added, jokingly. "You hold tight now!" yelled Dick, and an instant later the bob went down over a ridge of the hill. Free of the drag, it shot forth like an arrow from a bow, and soon began to crawl up to Peter Slade's turnout. "The Rovers are crawling up!" "Yes, but it's too late to win!" "We've got to win!" called out Sam. And then both bobs took another ridge and rushed on to the end of the course, less than a hundred yards away. CHAPTER XXII PELEG SNUGGERS' QUEER RIDE The race had now reached its critical point and all of the cadets on the hill waited for the outcome with keen interest. The bob owned by Peter Slade was still two lengths in advance, and it looked very much as if Peter would be the victor. But with the passing of the last ridge the Rovers' bob seemed to become endowed with new life. With no drag on the runners, it shot forward with a speed that surprised even Dick. Steadily it gained on the other bob, until, when the end of the course was but fifty yards away, the two were almost side by side. "Let her out, Pete!" cried one of the boys on Slade's bob, but Peter could do no more. "It's a tie race!" called several, but hardly had the words been spoken when the Rovers' bob shot ahead, and reached the end of the course a winner by twenty-five feet. "Hurrah! the Rovers win!" "I tell you what, you can't get ahead of Dick Rover and his crowd!" Peter Slade was much chagrinned to have the victory snatched from him, and began to mutter something about the race not being a fair one. "I agree with you, it was not fair," answered Sam. "Hans' tippet caught under our runners and held us up a good deal." "If it hadn't been for that we would have won by three times the distance," added Tom. "Humph!" muttered Peter Slade. "I guess you jumped off once and pushed." "I did not," answered Tom, hotly. "I think you did." "And I say I didn't," and now Tom doubled up his fists. "Oh, don't quarrel," put in Larry, who was near. "If Peter isn't satisfied why not race over again?" "I am willing," answered Dick, promptly. "I'm tired of riding," said Slade. "I--er--I am not feeling extra well and it shakes me up too much." "Then let some of the others use the bob." "No, it needs overhauling, and I am going to have it fixed up," was Slade's answer, and began to move off toward the Hall, dragging his bob after him. "He's afraid to race," said George. "My! how mad it makes some fellows to get beaten!" It may be mentioned here that Peter Slade had been one of Tad Sobber's cronies, and now that Sobber was gone he took it on his shoulders to fill the bully's place in the particular set to which he belonged. He was a quick-tempered youth, and had been in more than one fight since his arrival at Putnam Hall. The boys who could not ride on the hill amused themselves by making some big snowballs, which they allowed to roll down another hill. One of the snowballs made was fully eight feet in diameter, and it was a great sight to see this go down, getting bigger and bigger as it progressed. "Hello, I've got an idea!" cried Tom, as he watched the rolling of the big snowballs. "Something brand new, Tom?" queried Larry. "I think so. Let us give Peleg Snuggers a roll. It will do him good--shake up his liver, and all that." "You mean to roll him down this hill?" asked a student named Morley. "That's it." "Might hurt him." "Not if we put a snow overcoat on him first," answered Tom. "What do you mean?" asked another student. "Let us roll a big ball the shape of an egg and hollow out the middle. Then by some trick we can get Peleg to crawl inside, and----" "That's the thing!" cried George Garrison. "Come on. Where is Peleg?" "Down at the stables." With eager hands the cadets set to work and rolled up a big ball in the shape of an egg and then dug out the middle with a shovel. In the meantime a message was sent to the general utility man that he was wanted at the top of the hill at once. "Must want me to mend a sled," he mused, and hurried off, taking with him some tools, nails and cord. He often did favors for the cadets, who gave him "tips" in return. When Peleg Snuggers arrived at the top of the hill the big snowball was ready for use. "Here is Peleg!" cried Tom. "He can do the trick for us. Can't you, Peleg?" "What is that, Tom?" asked the general utility man, innocently. "We want to fasten this cord in the hole through that big snowball, but we don't want to get it crossed," went on Tom, anxiously. "Will you take the cord, crawl in there and then pass the end out and over the end of this shovel, and then loop it over to the other end?" "Why--er--I don't understand," stammered Peleg Snuggers. "I'll explain after you are inside the ball," said Tom. "Here's the cord," and he led the general utility man to the hole and helped him to get down. Not suspecting a trick, Snuggers crawled into the big snowball. Before he could do anything with the cord given to him the cadets rushed forward and gave the snowball a push toward the edge of the hill. "Hi! stop that!" roared the general utility man, trying to back out. "Hold tight--the snowball is getting away from us!" yelled Tom. "Somebody keep it from going down the hill!" "We can't hold it back!" screamed Larry, grinning at the same time. "It's bound to go--too bad!" wailed another. "Say, let me git out!" yelled Peleg Snuggers, but at that moment the snowball began to turn over. "I'll be killed! Oh, dear, I think you did this a-purpose, you rascals!" "Never!" came back promptly. "Enjoy the ride while you have the chance, Peleg!" "You've got a free ticket to the bottom of the hill!" "Let me out! Stop her!" yelled Snuggers, and they saw his feet at one end of the big snowball and his hands at the other. "I can't stand rollin', nohow!" "You're not standing," called Sam. "You are just rolling." Away went the big snowball, down the long hill, and the cadets after it. As it progressed it grew larger and larger. They saw Peleg Snuggers shove out his head from one end, and the head went around and around like a top. "I guess he'll be rather dizzy when the trip's ended," observed Songbird. At last the snowball came to a stop in a stretch of meadow land. The students rushed up just in time to see Peleg Snuggers crawl out on his hands and knees. When he arose he staggered around as if intoxicated. "Say, you young villains!" he gasped, and then had to stop to catch his breath. "Oh, Peleg, why did you run away with our snowball?" asked Tom, innocently. "It was a mean thing to do," put in Dick. "We wanted some fun with that ball," added Sam. "I--run--off--with the--the snowball?" gasped the general utility man. "I want you to know----" "Oh, we know all about it," interrupted Tom. "I know what's the matter. You've been drinking, and didn't know what you were doing." "Perhaps we had better report this to Captain Putnam," said Larry. "Drinking isn't allowed around here, you know." "I hain't drunk a drop--it's the rollin' as made me dizzy," roared Peleg Snuggers. "Oh, dear, I can't stand straight," and he bumped up against the big snowball and sat down in a heap. "I'll tell you what I think you ought to do," proceeded Tom, calmly. "I think you ought to roll our snowball back up the hill for us." "Roll it back?" snorted Snuggers. "Why, four hosses couldn't pull that weight o' snow up the hill! I ain't going to tech the snowball." "Then at least pay us for the ride you've had," suggested Sam. "I ain't goin' to do that nuther! It's a trick that's what it is!" growled the general utility man, and arose unsteadily. "I'll be sick for a week after this, I know I will!" "Never mind," said Dick, soothingly. "Just get Mrs. Green to give you a dose of pink Whirl Around Pills, and you'll be all right again." "I shan't never come out to this hill again, not fer nobody," grumbled the general utility man, and walked off. Then he turned to gaze at the cadets. "You do anything like that again an' I'll tell Captain Putnam on ye, see if I don't. I ain't going to be no merry-go-'round, or spinnin' top fer nobody!" And then he hurried for the stables and disappeared. CHAPTER XXIII HOLIDAYS AT THE FARM Almost before they knew it, the mid-winter holidays were at hand, and the Rover boys went home to enjoy Christmas and New Year. On their way they stopped at several stores in Ithaca, where they purchased a number of Christmas presents. Some of these they mailed at the post-office. Dick sent a nice book to Dora, and Tom and Sam sent books to Grace and Nellie. The boys also united in the gift of a stick pin to Mrs. Stanhope and another to Mrs. Laning, and sent Mr. Laning a necktie. Captain Putnam was not forgotten, and they likewise remembered George Strong. The rest of their purchases they took home, for distribution there. A number of the other students had come as far as Ithaca with them, and here the crowd had dinner at one of the hotels,--the same place where Tom had once played his great joke on Josiah Crabtree. "By the way, who knows anything about Nick Pell?" asked one of the students, while dining. "He has been removed to his home in the city," answered George Granbury. "Is he better?" questioned Dick. "They say he is better some days, but at other times he is worse. The poison somehow affected his mind." "What a terrible thing to happen," murmured the eldest Rover, and then shuddered to think what might have ensued had the snake bitten him. "Any news of Tad Sobber?" asked another cadet. He looked at each of the others, but all shook their heads. "It's queer where he went to," said Songbird. "Wonder if Captain Putnam tried to communicate with his folks?" "He has only an uncle, and the captain couldn't find him," answered another youth who was present. As the dinner progressed the boys warmed up, and at the conclusion they sang several songs. Then the Rovers had to rush for their train and they caught it just as it was pulling out of the station. "Hullo!" cried Sam, as he dropped into a seat, and he pointed out of the car window. "What's up now?" queried Tom. "I saw a fellow on the depot platform who looked like Tad Sobber!" "Are you sure it was Sobber?" demanded Dick. "No, I am not dead certain--but the fellow looked a good deal like Tad." "Must have been a mistake," was Tom's comment. "What would he be doing around Ithaca?" "Well, he's got to stay somewhere, Tom." "But he wouldn't stay so close to Cedarville--he'd probably go to some big city," put in Dick. As the train rushed on the Rover boys talked the matter over, but could make nothing out of it. "I suppose he is in hiding waiting to see if Nick Pell will recover," said Dick. "He knows that if Nick doesn't get over his trouble he'll be liable to prosecution." At the station at Oak Run the boys found their father awaiting them with the big family sleigh. All piled in, and over the crisp snow they started for Valley Brook farm. "I need not ask how you are feeling," said Anderson Rover. "Every one of you looks the picture of health." "I never felt better in my life," declared Dick, and Tom and Sam said the same. "Has Uncle Randolph heard anything more of his traction company bonds?" asked Tom, as they drove along. "Not a word more," answered his father. "It is a great loss to him." "Do you suppose the game was tried on anybody else?" asked Sam. "We have not heard of it." Arriving at home, the boys were warmly greeted by their uncle and their aunt and also by the others around the house. Their aunt had a hot supper awaiting them, and while they ate this the whole subject of the missing bonds was thoroughly discussed. The boys learned that a private detective was still on the trail of Merrick and Pike, but so far had reported nothing of importance. "I believe those rascals,--or at least Merrick--must belong around Lake Cayuga," observed Dick. "Otherwise we shouldn't have seen Merrick in Ithaca and up at the Stanhope place." "I was very simple to let them get the best of me. The next time I shall be more careful," said Randolph Rover. The boys learned from Jack Ness that hunting in the woods back of the farm was good, and two days before Christmas they went out with the hired man. They went for rabbits and squirrels, and each took his shotgun along and a substantial lunch, for they expected to be out the greater part of the day. It was clear, cold weather, the sun glistening brightly on the snow. They journeyed directly for a portion of the woods they knew was a favorite spot for rabbits, and it was not long before they started up several. "There they go!" cried Dick, and took aim. Bang! bang! went his gun, and the reports of Tom's firearm followed. Three rabbits came down, and a few minutes later Sam brought another one low. "Four for a starter are not so bad," remarked Tom, as the game was placed in their bags. "Even if we don't get any more we won't have to go home empty-handed." By noon they had made their way directly through the woods and had eleven rabbits and three squirrels to their credit. Then Tom suggested they build a campfire and rest while eating their lunch and this was done. "I wish we could bring down a fox or two," said Jack Ness. "They have been bothering the chickens again lately--carried off two only night before last." "Do you know where they hang out?" asked Dick. "I think they come from over yonder," and the hired man pointed with his hand to the northward. "Let us travel in that direction after dinner," suggested Sam. "Even if we don't spot any foxes we may find as many rabbits and squirrels there as anywhere else." The others were willing, and half of the afternoon was spent by the four hunters in a locality that was new to them. One fox was sighted, and Jack Ness shot the animal in the hind quarters, and then Sam finished him by a shot in the side. "Well, that makes one fox less anyway," said the hired man. They kept on, and brought down two rabbits and a wild turkey. By this time they were pretty well tired out, and Tom suggested that they start for home. "It's a long tramp," he said, "and by the time we get back I guess we'll all be ready to rest." "As for that, I am ready to rest now," said Sam. "Tramping through the snow is no easy task." "Especially if a fellow's legs aren't very long," returned Dick, with a grin. "Well, mine are as long as they ought to be," came from Sam, promptly. "They reach to the ground, and yours don't reach any further," and then there was a general laugh, Jack Ness guffawing loudly. The hired man said he knew of a short cut to the farm, and they followed him to something of a path through the woods and then out on a trail made years before by charcoal burners. Soon they came in sight of a cabin, from the chimney of which the smoke was curling. "Who lives here?" asked Dick. "An old man named Derringham," answered Jack Ness. "He is very old and somewhat out of his head. He makes his living by selling herbs and barks for medicine. Years ago, so they say, he was an herb doctor, but he didn't have a certificate, or something like that, so the authorities drove him out of business. After that he got queer and took to the woods." "Let us go in and see him," said Tom, whose curiosity was aroused. He walked boldly up to the hut and knocked loudly on the dilapidated door. "Who is that, Pop?" he heard somebody ask, in a startled voice. "I don't know, sir," was the answer, in the voice of an old man. "I don't want to see anybody," went on the first speaker. "Send him away, whoever he is." "Go away!" cried the old man. "I don't want anybody around here." By this time all of the party outside were at the door. Tom's face showed that he was laboring under sudden surprise. "Evidently the old man doesn't want visitors," was Dick's comment. "There is somebody else in there with him," whispered Tom. "From his voice I should say it was Bill Dangler!" CHAPTER XXIV A CAPTURE AND A SURPRISE The others were much astonished by what Tom said, and they could scarcely believe that they had heard aright. "Bill Dangler!" cried Sam, but Tom put his hand over his brother's mouth to silence him. Then he nodded vigorously. "What would that freight thief be doing here?" questioned Dick, in a whisper. "I am sure I don't know. But I am almost certain it was Dangler's voice. If you will remember, it has a certain shrillness to it." "Yes, I know that." During this talk there were murmurs in the cabin which those outside could not understand. Then the old man came towards the door and slipped a bolt into place. "I want you to go away!" he said sharply. "I don't like strangers around here." "We won't hurt you, Mr. Derringham," said Dick. "We came to pay you a friendly visit." "Wouldn't you like a nice rabbit from us?" asked Tom, bound to get into the cabin somehow. "I have no money with which to buy rabbits." "We'll make you a present of one," said Sam. "I want no presents from anybody. I want you to go away," said the old man, in a high-pitched, nervous tone. "Mr. Derringham, don't you remember me?" asked Jack Ness. "I used to buy herbs and watercress from you. I'd like to speak to you for a minute." "Who are you?" "I am Jack Ness, the man who works over on the Rover farm." "The Rover farm!" muttered a voice in the cabin. "Don't let them in! Don't you do it!" "I am sure that is Dangler!" cried Tom, whose ears were on the alert. "If he is really there we have him cornered!" "Yes, and he shan't get away from us again," added Dick. "If he tries it we can halt him with a dose of buckshot," put in Sam. After that there was a pause, the boys not knowing exactly how to proceed. Tom pressed on the door, but it refused to give way. "I tell you I want you to leave!" cried the old man, after some more whispering in the cabin. "If you don't go away I'll get my gun." "There are four of us and all armed," answered Dick. "So you had better not do any shooting. But you have got to open that door. We will do you no harm." "What do you want in here?" "We want to see who is in there with you?" answered Tom, boldly. "Don't you know that I am alone?" "You are not alone," said Sam. "Well, I know best," was the hesitating answer. "If I was sure you wouldn't hurt me I'd let you in." "We will not harm you in the least," answered Dick. There was a moving around in the cabin and what seemed to be the dropping of a door. Then old Derringham came forward again. "You are sure you won't rob me if I open the door?" he asked. "We mean you no harm--if you will do what is right," said Tom. Then the door was thrown open and the Rover boys and Jack Ness were confronted by a man at least seventy years of age. He had snow-white hair and a snowy beard that reached to his waist. The boys and the hired man went hastily into the cabin and looked around. Nobody but Derringham was in sight. Dick looked at the floor under the table and saw something which looked like a trap door. "He must have gone into the cellar," said he to the others, and made a movement forward. "Stop, do not touch that table!" cried the old man, in alarm. "Mr. Derringham, listen to me," said the eldest Rover boy firmly. "We are after a criminal--a man who for years robbed the railroad company of valuable freight. We know he is somewhere around your place. If you shield this criminal, or aid him in getting away, you will be guilty of a crime." At this strong assertion the old man began to tremble, and he looked from one to another of those before him in alarm. "I--I Bill Dangler said it was not true--that it was a plot against him," he murmured. "It is true, and there is no plot against him, excepting to make him pay the penalty of his crimes," put in Tom. "If you have hidden him you had better give him up." "I know you," said old Derringham, turning to Jack Ness. "You used to pay me good prices for what you bought of me. Can I trust you?" he went on, pleadingly. "Certainly you can, and you can trust these boys, too," was the hired man's reply. "If you want to keep out of trouble you had better help us all you can." By this time Dick had the table shoved to one side. Under the bottom of one of the legs he found a small iron ring, connecting with the door in the floor. He pulled on this and the door came up, showing a small cellar below, used chiefly by the old man for the storage of winter vegetables and the roots he gathered. "Dangler, you might as well come up!" called out Dick. "It won't do you any good to try to hide." "What do you want of me?" came in a sullen voice from below. "You know very well what we want." "I haven't done anything." "You can tell that to the police, after you are locked up. Come up." Slowly and with downcast face Bill Dangler crawled from the small cellar and pulled himself up to the floor of the cabin. He gazed reproachfully at the old man, who was again trembling. "I'll fix you for going back on me," he muttered. "They say you are a thief," answered the old man. "If you are, I want nothing more to do with you. I am poor, but I am honest--everybody who knows me knows that." "He shall not harm you," put in Tom. "He'll soon be behind the bars." A glance at the party of four, with their shotguns, convinced the freight thief that escape was out of the question. "I suppose I'll have to give up," he growled. "But I ain't as guilty as you may think I am." "You are guilty enough," said Sam. "I didn't plan those freight robberies." "Who did then?" questioned Tom. "Merrick and Pike. I don't mind telling on them, for they have gone back on me." "Is Merrick the head of the gang?" asked Dick. "Yes." "Where is he now?" "If I tell will you let me go?" "I can't do that, Dangler." "Well, I don't care anyway. Merrick hasn't treated me right, and he ought to suffer. He has a hangout a few miles from the city of Ithaca, if you know where that is." "Yes, on Lake Cayuga." "That's it." "You say a few miles from the city," pursued Sam. "What do you mean by that?" "He and some of his friends, Pike among them, have a meeting place along the lake. It's an old house, unpainted, and with very narrow windows, so I've been told. You find that house and likely you'll find Merrick and Pike." "I thought those chaps were from the city?" said Sam. "They are, but every once in a while they find it convenient to disappear, and then they go to that place on Lake Cayuga. It's an old homestead that used to belong to Merrick's sister." "We ought to be able to find that place," said Tom to his brothers. "Especially if it was a homestead." "Was the sister's name Merrick, too, or was she married?" asked Sam. "She was a widow, so I was told. When she died she left her son in charge of Merrick--but I don't believe he ever looked after the boy very much." "What was her name?" asked Dick. "Sobber--Mary Ann Sobber." "Sobber!" ejaculated the three Rover boys. "That's it." "Did you ever hear the son's name?" asked Dick. "I don't remember--yes, I do. Merrick had a letter from him once. The boy's name was Tad Sobber. He was at a boarding school somewhere." CHAPTER XXV CHRISTMAS AT THE FARM "What do you think of that?" "Isn't that the greatest ever!" "Well, I'm sorry for Tad." Such were the exclamations from the three Rover boys after listening to Bill Dangler's declaration that the lad who had run away from Putnam Hall was the nephew of Merrick. "Are you certain of this?" asked Dick. "Certainly I am. But why are you so interested in Merrick's sister and her son?" "I will tell you," answered Tom. "Tad Sobber used to go to school with us, but he ran away a short while ago and we haven't heard from him since." "Phew! so that's it! Maybe he's with his uncle." "Like as not. I wonder if he knows his uncle is a thief?" "I don't know anything about that. Sid Merrick is a sly one and can put on the most innocent front you ever saw." "What do you know about Pike?" "Oh, John Pike is only a tool, same as I was." After that Bill Dangler seemed anxious to relieve his mind, and he related many of the particulars of the freight robberies. He said that all had been planned by Sid Merrick, and that two other men were implicated besides himself and Pike and named the men. He said that Merrick had sold the stolen stuff in various large cities. "Did he divide with the others?" asked Dick. "He was supposed to do it, but I don't think any of us ever got our full share." Old Derringham listened to the thief's recital with keen interest. But presently he rushed forward and caught Bill Dangler by the arm. "I want you to go!" he cried, almost fiercely. "I want no thief under my roof!" "He shall go, and at once," declared Dick. "It is getting late, and it is a long tramp to Oak Run." "He owes me a dollar for keeping him several days," went on the old man. "Then he had better pay you," said Tom. Dangler wanted to demur, but in the end he paid for his board, and then the whole party left, the old man gazing after them curiously. That he had been entirely innocent in the affair there could not be the slightest doubt. "Now, Dangler, it won't do you any good to try to get away," said Dick, as they tramped along through the snow. "We are four to one and armed." "I won't try to run away," was the dogged answer. "If you give the authorities all the help you can, perhaps, when it comes to a trial, they will be a little easy on you," put in Tom. "I hope so. I was coaxed into this. I used to be an honest man," responded the freight thief. "Well, before you die, you'll learn that 'honesty is the best policy,'" observed Sam. "I've learned that already. I've lost all my old friends, and I can't show myself anywhere any more." The crowd had to tramp a good mile and a half before they reached a farmhouse where they could procure a team and a sleigh big enough to take all of them to Oak Run. Then they set off at a fast pace and at about supper time reached the Rover farm. Those at the farm were much astonished at the "game brought in," as Anderson Rover declared. The boys waited long enough to get a meal, and gave the prisoner something to eat, and then they set off for Oak Run with their father and Dangler. Here the freight thief was placed in the custody of the local constable, who locked the man up in the garret of his own home. That night and the next day the telegraph and telephone were kept busy, and some officers of the law from Ithaca visited the old Sobber homestead. They found the place deserted and no trace of Merrick, Pike or Tad Sobber was to be found. "It is too bad," declared Dick, when the news came in. "I thought sure we'd round up the rascals." From the authorities the boys learned one thing--that the Sobber homestead was on the same road that ran past the Stanhope cottage. "That may account for Merrick coming and looking in the window that night," said Dick. "Maybe he was traveling past and wanted to see what was going on." "More than likely he was looking for a chance to rob the place," was Tom's grim comment. On Christmas day the boys received a number of valuable presents and gave everybody presents in return. There was a grand family dinner, such as only their aunt Martha could prepare, and it is needless to say that all did full justice to the spread. After dinner the lads went out snowballing and got Aleck Pop and Jack Ness to do the same. The boys snowballed the colored man and Jack Ness so vigorously that the pair had to run for the barn. "My sakes alibe, boys!" cried Aleck Pop, after he had received a snowball in the ear. "Yo' dun work yo' snowballs lik da was comin' from a Gatling gun!" During the week between Christmas and New Year, Bill Dangler was removed to the county jail, there to await the action of the grand jury. In the meantime the authorities continued the hunt for Merrick, Pike and the others, but without success. "I'd really like to know what has become of Tad Sobber," remarked Dick. "It is a pity if he is dependent upon such a fellow as Merrick for his support." "Perhaps his mother left him money," said Tom. At last came the day when the boys returned to Putnam Hall. On the train they fell in with Larry Colby and George Granbury, and told of what they had learned. "I heard from Nick Pell yesterday," said Larry. "He is getting better gradually, but it will be some time before he is himself again." "Does he still blame Tad Sobber?" "Yes, and he says he will never have anything to do with Sobber again." "Nobody can blame him for that," said Sam. "I don't believe Sobber will ever return to Putnam Hall," came from Tom. "Especially when he finds out that we know he is the nephew of such a swindler as Merrick." In a few days the boys settled down again to their studies. The Rovers were exceedingly anxious to make records for themselves, and whenever a lesson was too hard for Tom or Sam, Dick helped them all he could. The eldest Rover boy was sorry he had missed his former position by being absent, but he was delighted to know that he and his brothers would now finish their schooling at Putnam Hall together. "I couldn't bear to think of being separated from you," he said to Tom and Sam. "We don't want to be separated," returned Tom. "That's the talk!" declared Sam. "We'll stick together always!" About a week after the return to school the snow cleared away and then came a cold snap that made excellent skating. At once all the boys got out their skates, and during their off hours they had great fun on the lake. One afternoon a race was arranged between half a dozen boys, including Dick, Larry Colby and Peter Slade. Slade was sure he would win, and went around boasting of it. "I have been in six races on skates," he declared, "and I won every one of them." "He must be a famous skater," said Tom, when he learned of this. "Dick, I don't think you'll stand much show against him." "I don't know. Do you know what I think of Peter Slade? I think he is a big blower." "I think that myself. Still, if he has won six races he must know something about racing." "Well, if I lose I shan't cry over it," said Dick, and there the talk ended. The race was to be for two miles,--a mile up the lake shore and a mile back. At the appointed hour the contestants lined up, and at a word from George Strong, who had consented to start them, they were off. It was easy to see that Peter Slade was a good skater, and with hardly an effort he went to the front during the first quarter of the race. But then Larry and Dick began to push him, and when the mile turn was made Larry was but two yards in the rear, with Dick almost on his heels. "Go it, Slade, you can win easily!" "Catch him, Larry!" "Put on more steam, Dick!" yelled Tom, enthusiastically. And then the turning point was passed by all the racers and the struggle on the homestretch commenced. CHAPTER XXVI THE SKATING RACE For nearly half a mile Peter Slade kept the lead with ease, but then his breath began to fail him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw both Larry and Dick crawling up. "No, you don't!" he muttered, and put on a fresh burst of speed that increased his lead by two yards. "Peter Slade is going to win!" "See how he is running away from the others!" So the cries arose and it certainly looked as if the youth mentioned could not possibly be defeated. But now both Larry and Dick "dug in for all they were worth," as they themselves expressed it. While there was yet a quarter of a mile to be covered Dick made a spurt and ranged up alongside of his chum. "Sorry, but I've got to go ahead!" he cried, gaily. "Come on, we'll both go!" yelled Larry, good naturedly, and then the pair put on a fresh effort and in a moment ranged up on either side of Peter Slade. "Hullo, they are in a line!" "There goes Larry Colby ahead!" "Dick Rover is going with him!" "Say, but that is skating, eh? Just look at Dick strike out!" "Sandwick is coming up, too!" "And so is Marley!" The last reports were true. The fourth and fifth boy were now directly behind Slade. As Dick and Larry shot ahead, still side by side, Sandwick overtook Slade and so did Marley. In the meantime the sixth boy had lost a skate and dropped out. With a final desperate effort Peter Slade tried to gain first place. But his wind was gone and his strength also, and he dropped back further and further. "Hurrah, here they come!" "It's a tie race between Dick and Larry!" "Marley is third!" "Yes, and Sandwick fourth." "Peter Slade is fifth." "Humph! And Peter said he was bound to win!" Then over the line shot the skaters, Dick and Larry side by side and laughing merrily. As soon as the race was ended they locked arms to show their good feeling. Then Marley came in with Sandwick at his heels. In deep disgust Peter Slade refused to finish, but circled to one side and hurried to the boathouse, there to take off his skates and disappear. "It was a well-skated race," declared George Strong. Then he asked Dick and Larry if they wanted to skate off the tie. "We won't bother," said Dick, after consulting his chum. "We are satisfied to let it stand as it is, considering that there was no prize to be awarded." The fact that he had lost the skating race made Peter Slade more sour than ever, and after that, whenever he met Dick, he glared at the eldest Rover boy defiantly. "He acts as if he had a personal grudge against me," said Dick to his brothers. "Well, he acts that way to me, too," answered Tom. "He ought to have his head punched well," was Sam's comment. Peter Slade did not seem to care that Larry had beaten him--his enmity was directed mainly at Dick. Slade was in one of the lower classes, but one day one of the teachers announced a lecture on the battleships of the American navy, and a large number of boys came in to listen and to take notes. In the midst of the lecture Dick had occasion to pass down one of the aisles. As he went by Peter Slade the latter put out his hand and hit him in the knee. Slade's hand had ink on it and the ink went on Dick's clean uniform. "What did you do that for?" demanded Dick, halting. "Shut up!" whispered Slade, uglily. "I've a good mind to box your ears," went on Dick. "Will you?" roared the bully, leaping up. "Just try it!" And so speaking he made a pass at Dick's head. The blow landed on Dick's shoulder, leaving an ink mark behind it. The eldest Rover boy had leaped to one side. But now he leaped forward, and a well-directed blow from his fist sent Slade reeling backward over a desk. "Stop that!" cried the teacher, in alarm, and brought his lecture to an abrupt end. "A fight! A fight!" cried several of the boys, and left their seats to surround Dick and the bully. Slade was dazed for a moment, but on recovering he sprang at Dick and tried to force him to the floor. Around and around went the pair, bumping against the desks and sending some books to the floor. The teacher tried to get at them, but before he could do so they had separated. Then Dick hit Slade a telling blow in the left eye which caused the bully to fall into a nearby seat. "Stop, this instant!" cried the teacher, and then turning to some of the boys added: "Summon Captain Putnam at once." The room was in an uproar, and many wanted Dick and Slade to continue the battle. But the punch in the eye had taken away the bully's courage and he did not get up to continue the contest. "What does this mean?" demanded Captain Putnam, as he came in, and he faced Dick and Slade sternly. "It means that that fellow ought to have a good thrashing, sir," answered Dick, boldly, and pointed at the bully. "It's his fault, it ain't mine," put in Peter Slade, hastily. "He started it." "That is not true, Captain Putnam. I was passing his seat when he reached out and smeared ink on my knee," and Dick pointed down to his soiled trousers. "I wasn't going to stand for that and told him so. Then he jumped up and hit me in the shoulder, leaving more ink on me. After that I hit him." "It ain't so!" roared Peter Slade. "That's the truth," said several. "Peter's hand is full of ink." "He knocked over an inkwell just before Dick came along," said Fred. "I saw him do it." "So did I," added Songbird. "Did you see it?" questioned Captain Putnam of the instructor. "I saw nothing until the boys were fighting in the aisle," answered the teacher who had been delivering the lecture. "Captain Putnam, I am sure Dick Rover is not to blame," said a very quiet student named Rames. "Slade put the ink on Rover and struck the first blow--of that I am positive." "It was my inkwell he knocked over," came from another lad. "I told him to leave it alone, but he wouldn't mind me." "Oh, you are all against me!" roared Peter Slade. "Evidently you are guilty," said the master of the Hall, sternly. "I want both you and Richard Rover to come to my office. Rames, you can come, too, and you also, Brocton." In the office a thorough investigation was held. Several other cadets were called upon to testify, and it was proved that Peter Slade was entirely to blame for what had occurred. "You should not have attacked him, Richard," said the captain to Dick. "But under the circumstances I cannot blame you. You may go." For his misconduct Peter Slade was confined in the "guardhouse" for three days. The black eye Dick had given him did not go away very fast and when he came out and resumed his place among the students he was a sight to behold. That he was very angry at the eldest Rover boy is easily imagined. "I'll fix him some day," he muttered. "Dick, you want to watch Slade," said Tom, one day, on passing the bully in the hallway. "I guess you had better watch him yourself, Tom." "I am going to do that, don't fear. What did the captain do about your mussed-up uniform?" "Made Slade pay for having it cleaned." "Did he do it?" "He had to do it--Captain Putnam put it on the bill to his folks." "That was right." "Of course it was. But I understand it made Slade as mad as hops. Oh, he surely has it in for us," went on Dick, and there the subject was dropped. CHAPTER XXVII ON THE LAKE Almost before the boys knew it winter was gone and spring was at hand. The ice on the lake disappeared like magic, and the hills back of Putnam Hall took on a fresh greenness pleasant to behold. With the coming of warm weather the cadets spent a large part of their off time outdoors. Some took up rowing, and among the number were Sam and Tom. Larry Colby had become the owner of a fair-sized sloop, and he frequently took some of his chums out for a cruise up or down the lake. "Do you know what I'd like to do?" said Dick one day. "I'd like to visit that old Sobber homestead and see how it looks." "I've often thought of that," answered Sam. "Wonder how we can manage it?" The matter was talked over in Larry's presence, and the cadet who owned the sloop said they might make the trip in that craft, provided the master of Putnam Hall would give them the desired permission. "We'll ask Captain Putnam at once," declared Dick. Permission was granted to leave Putnam Hall early on the following Saturday morning, provided the weather was clear, and it was arranged that the party should consist of the three Rover boys, Larry, Fred and Songbird. The captain said he preferred that they come back Saturday night, but they could remain away over Sunday if they found it necessary. "Do you think we'll get any clew to Merrick and Tad Sobber?" asked Dick, with a faint smile. "Possibly," answered Captain Putnam, smiling back. "You Rovers are great chaps for finding out things." The sloop was provided with a tiny cuddy, or cabin, and in this the boys placed a small stock of provisions and also a shotgun and some fishing lines. They left the Hall after breakfast and were glad of the promise of a warm day, with the breeze in just the right direction. "You fellows will have to tell me where to steer the sloop to," said Larry, after the mainsail had been run up. "I don't know where that old house is." "We have a general idea where it is," answered Dick. "Of course we may have some trouble finding it. But if we get mixed up, we can go ashore and ask the folks living in that vicinity." The distance to be covered along the lake shore was in the neighborhood of twelve miles, so the boys had quite a sail before them. They took turns at steering, and said they liked the sloop very much. About four miles had been covered when the breeze began to die away. This was exasperating, but could not be helped, so the boys made the best of it. As the sloop drifted along they got out some fishing tackle, and it was not long before Sam brought up a fair-sized fish, of which he felt quite proud. "At this rate it will take us till night to reach that old house," remarked Dick, after they had been fishing half an hour. "It is too bad! I thought we'd get there by noon when we started, even if the breeze did go down." "Oh, I think the breeze will start up again before long," said Tom hopefully. "Let us enjoy this fishing while we have the chance," he added, having just pulled in a real piscatorial prize. By noon they had a good mess of fish to their credit, and then Sam proposed that they go ashore and build a fire and cook some for dinner. "There is no use of mourning over the wind," said he. "If it wasn't for the sloop we might tramp to the old house," returned Dick. "I shouldn't wish to leave my boat just anywhere," said Larry. "Somebody might run off with her,--and she cost quite some money." "You might leave her in care of some farmer along here," suggested Songbird, and then he added softly: "For what is a boat without a breeze? It's like a forest minus its trees. It's like a table without a leg,----" "Or a big blue top without its peg!" finished Tom. "But I move we camp and cook fish," he continued. "We can have a dandy meal, along with the stuff we brought along." The idea of going ashore prevailed, and soon they had tied up the sloop and lowered the mainsail. Brushwood was handy, and having started a fire they cleaned some of the fish and set it to broiling. They had a pot along in which they made coffee, and they also brought out some bread and crackers, cake, and some fruit. They had some meat with them, but left that for possible future use. The cadets took their time over the meal, and it was not until two o'clock that they again boarded the _Polly_, as Larry had named his craft. "I think the breeze is coming again," cried Dick, holding up his hand. "Let it come!" was the cry, and as the wind freshened all felt much better. Soon the _Polly_ was bowling over the lake as speedily as when they had first started. "Do you know what I think?" said Songbird, who stood at the stern looking toward the distant hills. "I think we are going to have more wind than we'll want before night." "Do you think a big blow is coming?" questioned Fred. "It looks that way to me. Do you see those dark clouds just beginning to show themselves yonder?" "Well, I shan't mind a little blow," said Dick. "In fact, I think I'd rather like the excitement." And the others said the same. They were still about two miles from the spot where they supposed the old house was located, when it suddenly grew darker and the breeze freshened greatly. Then came a puff of air that sent the _Polly_ far over on her side. "Hi! this won't do!" cried Fred, in alarm. "We don't want to upset!" "Maybe we had better take in some sail," added Songbird nervously. He had scarcely spoken when there came another puff of wind that made all cling fast to the deck to keep from being pitched overboard. The sky was now very dark, and there were a few flakes of snow in the air. "It's a spring snowsquall, that's what it is," announced Dick. "I don't think it will last over ten or fifteen minutes." "It's too much for the _Polly_," came from Larry. "Put down the mainsail, will you?" Several sprang to do as requested, and hardly had the sheet been lowered and stowed away when there came a fierce gust that drove them well in shore. "There is a cove--we can go in there for shelter!" cried Sam, and the sloop was steered accordingly. The cove was well protected by trees and they came to anchor at a spot that looked particularly inviting. The boys were afraid it would rain, and wondered what they would do to keep from getting wet, since the cuddy on the sloop was too small to hold more than two or three of the party. But no rain came, and soon the flurry of snow disappeared. The wind, however, instead of letting up, blew harder than ever. "I am glad we are not out in the middle of the lake," observed Fred. "We'd be capsized sure!" "This is certainly getting to be a regular gale," answered Dick. "And the worst of it is, there is no telling how long it is going to last." There was nothing to do but to wait, and in order to keep warm the cadets put up a bit of sailcloth on the deck of the sloop and taking in the cuddy. There they crouched, and told stories and talked for over an hour. "I move we go on," said Tom, at last. "The wind isn't quite as strong as it was." Although doubtful of the wisdom of the proceedings, the others voted to proceed and they poled their way out of the cove. Only the jib of the _Polly_ was hoisted and this sent them bowling along at a fair rate of speed. Dick stood in the bow and at last called upon Larry to turn the sloop toward shore. "I think we must be in the neighborhood of that house now," he said. "And just ahead is a fine cove where the sloop will be as well sheltered as it was at the other cove." Accordingly Larry turned the _Polly_ in, and the other lads lowered the sail. They came to anchor between a number of tall trees, where the sloop was almost screened from sight. Having made certain the boat could not drift away, the six boys, led by Dick, made their way along the shore until they struck something of a path. Coming to a slight rise, Dick pointed with his hand. "Isn't that a house, on the other side of the hill?" he asked. "Yes!" cried Tom. "And by the appearance of it I should say it's the place we are looking for!" CHAPTER XXVIII AT THE OLD HOUSE The Rover boys and their chums approached the old house with a good deal of interest. Dick led the way, setting a pace that made it hard for the others to keep up. "Don't hurry so, Dick," remonstrated Fred. "The house isn't going to run away." "Dick wants to make sure if that Merrick is around," responded Songbird. "And I can't blame him." The old Sobber homestead was surrounded by a grove of trees equally aged. One of the trees had blown down, taking a corner of the roof with it. Through this opening the birds flitted. "I don't believe a soul is around," observed Tom, as they halted in front of the building. "Nothing like ringing the bell!" cried Sam, and mounting the dilapidated piazza he raised the ancient knocker of the door and used it vigorously. Then came a crash and the youngest Rover felt the piazza bottom give way. "Look out, a post is coming down!" cried Dick, warningly, and Sam had just time enough to leap away when the corner post of the piazza fell, allowing the roof above to sag several inches. "Looks to me as if the whole building was on the verge of collapse," was Songbird's comment. "Yes, and I don't know whether I want to go in or not," added Larry. "It certainly does look shaky," admitted Dick. "I don't think anybody would risk staying in it long." Leaving the front, they walked around the old house and gazed through several of the broken-out windows. Inside all was dirt and cobwebs, with a few pieces of broken-down furniture scattered about. As he looked in one window Tom saw a big rat scurry across the floor. "I guess rats are the only tenants," he said dryly. "And they don't pay rent." "With a few birds on the top floor, front," added Sam. "Well, do we go in or not?" "I am going in," declared Dick, and pushed open the old kitchen door. It was damp and mouldy in the apartment, for the rain had soaked loose much of the plaster and caused it to fall. The big open fireplace looked grimy and forbidding with its iron bars and chains. An iron kettle stood on the chimney-piece, a crack across the bottom. "Somebody has had a fire here not so very long ago!" said Dick, and picked up a bit of half-burnt newspaper. He turned it over. "Here is a date. This newspaper is only four days old!" "Then whoever made a fire here visited this house within the past four days," said Larry in a tragic whisper. "Whoop! just listen to what a detective Larry is becoming!" cried Tom. "Regular Bowery Bob, the Newsboy Sleuth!" "Perhaps it was only some curiosity seeker who came here," suggested Fred. With caution, for the floors were very rotten, the cadets moved from one room of the old house to another. "Anything in there?" asked Tom of Sam, as the latter peered into a room that was extra dark. "I can't make out," was the answer, and Sam took a step forward. Then of a sudden there was a strange whirring, and something hit the youngest Rover boy on the ear, causing him to fall back in fright. "Stop that!" he cried. "What was it?" queried Tom, while the others came running to the spot. "Something hit me on the ear!" "Anybody in there?" "There must be." "Come out of that, whoever you are!" yelled Fred, while Dick pointed his shotgun at the door. There was no answer, but a second later came the whirring again, and then a big bat flew into the light, just grazing Tom's face. "A bat!" "Let it go!" said Songbird, and then the bat flew out of a window and disappeared. "Oh!" murmured Sam, and breathed a sigh of relief. "I--I thought somebody struck at me!" "I've got one of those electric pocket lights along," said Tom. "Let me use that." He turned on the little electric lamp, and by its rays they inspected the apartment. It was a bedroom, and in one corner was an old bedstead and on it a musty straw mattress. In another corner was a closet containing several shelves. "Here is an old inkwell," said Dick, and brought it forth. "And here are the remains of a box of writing paper and envelopes." "Any letters?" asked Fred. They looked around, but at first could find no writings of any kind. But behind one of the shelves, in a crack, they discovered several sheets of paper and took these to the light to read. "They are parts of letters from Mr. Sobber to his wife," said Dick. "They must have been written by Tad's father." "He speaks here of Merrick," added Tom, who was scanning a blurred page. "Merrick is Mrs. Sobber's brother beyond a doubt." "From these letters I should say Mr. Sobber had been off on a sea trip," continued the eldest Rover boy. "And it looks to me as if he had been an honest man, for he tells his wife that he hopes Merrick will give up his gambling habits." From the bedroom the boys entered what had been the parlor of the house. This was almost bare. To one side of the parlor was an entry-way, and here was a stairs leading to the second story and another leading to the cellar. "Well, shall we go up or down?" queried Dick. "Let us see what the cellar looks like first," answered Sam. "Perhaps we'll find a pot of gold there." "Or a few skeletons," put in Tom. "Ugh! don't say skeletons," cried Songbird, with a shiver. "I've got the creeps already!" "Look out that you don't break your neck on the stairs," warned Larry, and then Dick led the way down, holding the light before him. If it was damp above it was far more so below, and the boys shivered in spite of themselves. The cellar had only a mud bottom and this was covered with slime and mold. There was little there to interest them outside of an old chest which, when they pried it open, proved to be empty. "Listen!" cried Tom, suddenly, and held up his hand. "What did you hear?" demanded several of the others. "I thought I heard somebody walking around upstairs. There it is again!" All gave attention, and heard the unmistakable sounds of footsteps on the stairs leading to the second story. "Who is up there?" called out Dick, and turned to leave the cellar, followed by his brothers and chums. "Stay where you are!" came back in a harsh voice. "Don't any of you dare to come out of that cellar!" "It is Merrick!" burst out Tom. Hardly had he spoken when they heard a door shut sharply and a bolt dropped into place. Then the footsteps retreated. "He has shut the door to the cellar!" cried Dick, flashing the light upward. "We are locked in!" "Hark! I heard more than one person running from the house," said Larry. "That Pike must be with him." "Or else Tad Sobber." As quickly as he could, Dick ran up the old stairs and tried the door. It was in fairly good condition and refused to budge. "Smash it down!" called out Tom, and went to his brother's assistance. "We must get out and collar those rascals," said Sam. "Can't you get the door open?" "We ought to be able to," answered Dick. "Here, catch the light and take the gun." In a few seconds Dick, Tom and Songbird were pressing on the door with all their strength. All stood on the top step of the cellar stairs. "Now then, all together!" cried Dick, and they shoved with might and main. Then came a crack below them, and an instant later the cellar stairs collapsed, carrying them with it. As they went down in a confused heap the stairs struck the electric light and smashed it. It also knocked the shotgun from Sam's hand. Bang! went the firearm, with a report in the narrow confines of the cellar that was deafening. "I'm killed! I'm killed!" came from Larry, an instant later. "You've shot my hand off!" CHAPTER XXIX A WRECK AND A CAPTURE "Get off of my fingers!" "Please let me get out of this hole!" "Say, how can I get up if you're going to sit on my legs?" These and a few more utterances came from the boys as they endeavored to clear themselves of the wreckage of the fallen stairs. The small cellar was filled with smoke from the shotgun, and Larry was dancing around flipping his hurt hand in the air. All was pitch dark, for the small windows were covered with dirt and cobwebs to such a depth that no light penetrated through them. "Beware of that gun!" called Dick, when he could speak. "Only one barrel went off, remember." "Larry, are you really killed?" questioned Sara, who, somehow, felt responsible, since the weapon had been in his hands. "N--no, but I'm hit in the fingers," came from the wounded boy. "The shot went right past my head, too!" "Make a light, somebody," called out Fred. "Songbird, you've got some matches." The poet of the Hall lit a match, and by this faint light the boys first of all looked at Larry's damaged hand. Fortunately the charge of shot had merely grazed the thumb and middle finger, and it was found that Larry was more frightened than hurt. The hand was bound up in a couple of handkerchiefs. "When we get back to the boat you'll want to wash the wounds well," said Dick. Tom had picked up the electric pocket light, but found he could not make it work. Again they were in darkness until another match was lit. "We can't reach that door, with the stairs down," was Dick's comment. "Let us break out a window." This was easily accomplished, and one after another the cadets crawled forth from the cellar. It was a tight squeeze, especially for Fred, who was rather large at the waist line. "I guess those fellows who ran away thought we couldn't get through that window," said Songbird. "If it had been an inch smaller I should have been stuck," answered Fred. They looked all around the old building, but nobody was in sight. The front door stood wide open, and they rightly surmised that the others had taken their departure that way. "The question is, Which way did they go?" came from Dick. "Do you think they went on foot?" asked Sam. "They might have a carriage." "Or a boat," added Larry. "Oh, I hope we can catch them, just to make 'em pay for these hurt fingers of mine!" And he shut his teeth hard, for the wounds pained him not a little. "Larry, I trust you don't think it was my fault," observed Sam. "Not a bit of it, Sam. It was simply an accident, that's all. I am glad those on the stairs didn't hurt themselves." "Well, my knee doesn't feel any too good," came from Tom. "I guess I scratched it quite some." "Shall we try to find those fellows first or go upstairs and look around?" asked Songbird. "Let us try to find them first," said Dick. "We can come back here any time." "I have a plan," said Tom. "Let us scatter in all directions. If anybody sees anything of them, give the school whistle." "Good! that's the talk!" exclaimed Sam. "The sooner the better." In a minute more the six cadets were hunting in as many different directions for those they were after. Larry, Songbird and Fred took to the lake shore, while the three Rover boys went up and down the roadway and into the woods beyond. Nearly half an hour was spent in the search when the other lads heard a whistle from the lake shore. The signal came from Larry, and was repeated several times. "He wants us in a hurry," said Sam to Dick, when they met, and started on a run. They met Larry coming towards them, beckoning wildly. "Hurry up!" he called. "What's up?" asked Dick. "They just went past in a sailboat and they are bound across the lake." "The two men?" asked Sam. "Yes, and Tad Sobber, too." "Tad!" "Yes. Their boat couldn't have been very far from mine. I saw the two men get on board and then Tad came from a cabin, and all three hoisted the sails as quickly as they could and stood over in the direction of the point with the three rocks--you remember the spot?" "I do--the place we once went nutting," said Dick. By this time the other cadets were coming up, and they listened with keen interest to what Larry had to tell. In the meantime all ran to the _Polly_, and the sloop was poled out of the cove and the mainsail and jib were hoisted. As Larry was in no condition to steer, Dick took the tiller. "They will get away if they possibly can," observed Songbird. "Do you think, if we get too close to them, they'll fire at us, or anything like that?" "There is no telling," answered Dick. "But I am going to load up that empty barrel of the shotgun, and if they dare to shoot I'll shoot back," he added, with determination. The other boat was in sight, but a good half mile away, and it was a serious question whether the _Polly_ could get anywhere near the craft before the point with the three rocks was gained. "Well, if they go ashore we can capture the boat anyway," observed Sam. "That will be something." "Probably the boat was only hired. The owner may not know what rascals those chaps are." "The craft looked old and clumsy to me," said Larry. "If you sail the _Polly_ with care perhaps you can catch her--if they don't play us some trick." The chase was now on in earnest, and the cadets on board the sloop did all in their power to make speed. There was a fair breeze, the gale having gone down while they were at the house. "I don't think they know much about running a boat," said Tom, presently. "What are they up to now?" "They are turning back!" cried Sam. "See, they are headed for yonder cove. They are not going up to the three rocks." "What cove is that?" asked Songbird. "Is it the place we went fishing the day we caught the turtle?" "Yes." "Then they had better look out! Don't you remember those sharp rocks, right near the mouth of the cove?" Those who had been fishing the day mentioned did remember the rocks, and they watched the boat ahead with keen interest. The wind had freshened a little and the craft had swung around swiftly and was rushing for the cove. They could see one of the men trying to lower the mainsail. "They are in dangerous water!" cried Dick. He had just uttered the words when they saw the boat strike something, shiver from stem to stern, and back away. Then she went ahead and struck a second time. A second later she went over to larboard, throwing the two men and Tad Sobber into the lake! "They've struck the rocks!" "The boat is sinking!" "They are all in the water!" "Lower the mainsail!" yelled Larry. "We don't want to get caught on the rocks! Sheer off, Dick!" Dick swung the tiller around, and in a few seconds the mainsail came down with a bang and was secured by the others. The jib was still up, and this drew just sufficiently to send them forward slowly, to the spot where the catastrophe had occurred. They found Pike floundering around in the water, yelling lustily for aid. Sid Merrick and Tad Sobber had struck out for the nearest part of the shore, about two hundred feet away. "Here, catch hold of this and I'll pull you up," said Tom, reaching down to Pike with a pole. The floundering man did as told willingly, and was quickly hauled to the deck. Then the _Polly_ was turned toward the shore and the jib was lowered. It was no easy task to bring the sloop in, for they had to beware of the rocks, and by the time this was accomplished Sid Merrick and Tad Sobber had landed and were running for the woods with all possible speed. Dick raised his shotgun and fired to scare them, but they kept on, and in a few minutes disappeared from sight. CHAPTER XXX GOOD-BYE TO PUTNAM HALL Leaving John Pike in charge of the others, the three Rover boys set off after Sobber and Merrick. They followed the trail for awhile with ease, for the fugitives were dripping wet from their involuntary bath. "We have one advantage," said Dick, as they ran along. "Being wet they will attract attention, and we'll be able to follow them up that way." About a quarter of a mile was covered when they heard a crashing in the brushwood not far ahead of them. Then came a yell of pain from both Merrick and Tad Sobber. "Ouch! I'm being stung to death!" "Get off of me! Oh! oh! oh!" "They are hornets, Tad! Run, or they'll be after us!" "I--I can't run! Oh! one stung me in the eye!" screamed Tad Sobber. Then the Rover boys heard the man and the boy plunge on, Tad screaming with pain at every step. "Wait! we can't go that way!" cried Tom, who had no desire to tumble into the hornets' nest as the others had probably done. "Let's go around!" And he leaped to the left. As they progressed they heard Tad Sobber still crying wildly, and they heard Sid Merrick urging him to run faster. "I'm stung, too--in about a dozen places!" said the bond thief. "But we mustn't be captured." "Oh, it is awful!" groaned Tad. "I can hardly bear the pain!" And he went on, clutching his uncle by the arm. Both were indeed in a sorry plight. But coming out on a road, fortune favored them. They met a colored man running a touring car. He was alone and they quickly hired him to take them to the nearest town. "We fell into the lake by accident," said Sid Merrick. "We want to get where we can change our clothing." "And get something for these hornet stings," added Tad Sobber. "If I don't get something soon I'll go crazy from pain." As the three Rover boys ran towards the roadway Dick saw a big, flat pocketbook lying on the ground. He darted for it and picked it up. "Merrick must have dropped this," he said. "It's wet, and here is a dead hornet stuck fast to it. Guess the hornets made him forget that he had it." Slipping the pocketbook into his pocket, Dick ran out on the roadway and looked up and down. But Merrick and Sobber were gone, and what had become of them the boys did not learn until the next day, and then it was too late. "What's in that pocketbook?" asked Sam, after the hunt had come to an end for the time being. "We'll soon learn," said his big brother, and opened up the still wet leather. Inside were several bank bills and a fat envelope. "Uncle Randolph's missing traction company bonds!" cried Dick, bringing them forth. "This is the best ever!" "Are they all there?" asked Tom. Dick counted them over rapidly. "Yes--ten for one thousand dollars each." "Hurrah!" shouted Sam. "Won't Uncle Randolph be glad when he hears of this!" The boys were highly elated over the find, and now they had the bonds they concluded that a further search for Sid Merrick could wait. They did not care whether Tad Sobber was captured or not, as they did not think the bully was much of a criminal. When they got back to the sloop they found that the others had bound John Pike's hands behind him. The robber was very meek, and he declared that Sid Merrick was to blame for everything. "He wanted to sell the bonds many times," said Pike. "But he knew that Mr. Rover had advertised the numbers in the newspapers and he was afraid to do it. He said he would wait until the affair blew over. Then he was going to sell out, divide up, and go to Europe." Pike added that the boat had belonged to himself. She was an old craft and was allowed to remain on the rocks. It came out later that Pike had formerly lived on the lake shore and had thus become acquainted with Merrick and the Sobbers. As soon as possible the captured robber was handed over to the authorities, and Dick sent a message home acquainting his uncle with what had occurred. This brought on both Randolph Rover and the boys' father. "You have certainly done wonderfully well," said Randolph Rover, as he took his bonds. "Were you not so rich already I should want to reward you." "We don't want any reward," said Dick. "But I am sorry we didn't catch Merrick." For a long time the authorities tried to catch Sid Merrick and also endeavored to learn the whereabouts of Tad Sobber, but without success. They had disappeared, and that seemed to be the end of it. The old house was visited again, but nothing of value was found there. Later on some tramps set it on fire and it was burnt to the ground. A month later John Pike and one other freight thief who was captured were tried for their misdeeds and sent to prison. The authorities used Bill Dangler as a witness against them, and Dangler, consequently, was let go. Strange to say, Dangler turned over a new leaf and became a hard working man in a railroad stone quarry some miles from Carwell. With the mystery of the traction company bonds cleared up, the Rover boys returned to Putnam Hall to complete their last term at that institution of learning. They applied themselves diligently to their studies, and when the final examinations came off all passed with flying colors. "Whoop! I'm glad those exams are over!" cried Tom. "I feel as if a hundred-pound weight was taken off my shoulders." "I am glad, too," answered Sam. "And I am glad all of us did so well," put in Dick. "Our reports will please father and Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha." It had been arranged that the commencement exercises should be carried out on rather an elaborate scale, and many people were invited to attend. This brought all the Rovers and also the Stanhopes and the Lanings to Putnam Hall. Dick had been called on to deliver the valedictory and he made such a stirring address that he was vigorously applauded. Sam and Tom appeared in a humor dialogue, with Fred and Larry, and this was received with shouts of laughter. Songbird recited an original poem which was a vast improvement over the most of his doggerel, and Hans and some of the others sang in a quartet which would have done credit to the average college glee club. "Oh, it was splendid, Dick!" said Dora, after it was over and congratulations were in order. And her eyes shone like stars as she pressed his hand. "I saw only you, Dora, when I got up to speak," he whispered. "And that's why I did my best." "You and Sam had better go on the stage," said Nellie to Tom. "That dialogue was too funny for anything!" "I laughed till the tears came," added Grace. "It was a splendid programme all the way through." "Well done, my boys, well done," said Anderson Rover, as he took each by the hand. "I was never so proud of you as I am to-day." "Now that we have finished our studies here what are we to do next?" questioned Dick, earnestly. "We will settle that question this summer," answered his father. "But in the meantime--" Mr. Rover paused and looked at his oldest son thoughtfully. "But what, father?" "I will tell you when we get home, Dick--there is no use of my trying to do so in this excitement. I have something very unusual to propose," answered Anderson Rover, and what that proposal was, and what came of it, will be related in another volume, to be entitled, "The Rover Boys on Treasure Isle; Or, The Strange Cruise of the Steam Yacht." In that volume we shall meet many of our old friends again, and also learn something concerning the disappearance of Sid Merrick and Tad Sobber. That evening the celebration at Putnam Hall was continued. The cadets lit a huge bonfire on the campus and around this they danced and sang and made speeches. They cheered everybody, from Captain Putnam down to Peleg Snuggers, and the festivities were kept up until midnight. Then the boys went to bed--but not to sleep--for was this not the last night at school? Innumerable tricks were played, including one on Peter Slade that that youth never forgot. This made the bully so angry he declared he was going to quit Putnam Hall for good, and he did, and nobody missed him. "And now for home!" cried Dick the next morning on dressing. "And fresh adventures," added Tom. "But I do hate to leave dear old Putnam Hall," sighed Sam, and then the others sighed, too. It was not until noon that the three Rover boys were ready to go, having first bid farewell to their numerous friends. Then they shook hands with Captain Putnam. "We hate awfully to leave you," said Dick, earnestly. "And I hate to have you go, Richard," was the reply. "You must visit the Hall some time in the future." "And you must come and see us, Captain Putnam," said Tom. "Yes, indeed," added Sam. "I will," answered the master of the Hall. Then the boys shook hands all over again and ran for the carryall. Some boys left behind set up a shout: "Good-bye, Dick!" "Sorry to have you go, Tom!" "May we meet again, Sam!" "Good-bye, everybody!" was the answering shout. "Good-bye to dear old Putnam Hall!" Then the whip cracked, the carryall rolled from the door; and the Rover boys' days at Putnam Hall military school were at an end. THE END Other books from GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK * * * * * _This Isn't All!_ Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have made in this book? Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author? On the _reverse side_ of the wrapper which comes with this book, you will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at the same store where you got this book. _Don't throw away the Wrapper_ _Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day to have. But in case you do mislay it, write to the Publishers for a complete catalog._ * * * * * THE FAMOUS ROVER BOYS SERIES By ARTHUR M. WINFIELD (EDWARD STRATEMEYER) Beautiful Wrappers in Full Color No stories for boys ever published have attained the tremendous popularity of this famous series. Since the publication of the first volume, The Rover Boys at School, some years ago, over three million copies of these books have been sold. They are well written stories dealing with the Rover boys in a great many different kinds of activities and adventures. Each volume holds something of interest to every adventure loving boy. THE ROVER BOYS THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE THE ROVER BOYS OUT WEST THE ROVER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS THE ROVER BOYS ON LAND AND SEA THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP THE ROVER BOYS ON THE RIVER THE ROVER BOYS ON THE PLAINS THE ROVER BOYS IN SOUTHERN WATERS THE ROVER BOYS ON THE FARM THE ROVER BOYS ON TREASURE ISLE THE ROVER BOYS AT COLLEGE THE ROVER BOYS DOWN EAST THE ROVER BOYS IN THE AIR THE ROVER BOYS IN NEW YORK THE ROVER BOYS IN ALASKA THE ROVER BOYS IN BUSINESS THE ROVER BOYS ON A TOUR THE ROVER BOYS AT COLBY HALL THE ROVER BOYS ON SNOWSHOE ISLAND THE ROVER BOYS UNDER CANVAS THE ROVER BOYS ON A HUNT THE ROVER BOYS IN THE LAND OF LUCK THE ROVER BOYS AT BIG HORN RANCH THE ROVER BOYS AT BIG BEAR LAKE THE ROVER BOYS SHIPWRECKED THE ROVER BOYS ON SUNSET TRAIL THE ROVER BOYS WINNING A FORTUNE THE PUTNAM HALL SERIES THE PUTNAM HALL CADETS THE PUTNAM HALL RIVALS THE PUTNAM HALL CHAMPIONS THE PUTNAM HALL REBELLION THE PUTNAM HALL ENCAMPMENT THE PUTNAM HALL MYSTERY * * * * * THE TOM SWIFT SERIES By VICTOR APPLETON Uniform Style of Binding. Individual Colored Wrappers. Every Volume Complete in Itself. Every boy possesses some form of inventive genius. Tom Swift is a bright, ingenious boy and his inventions and adventures make the most interesting kind of reading. TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLE TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLE TOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLD TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDER TOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITY TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERA TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHT TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON TOM SWIFT AND HIS PHOTO TELEPHONE TOM SWIFT AND HIS AERIAL WARSHIP TOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNEL TOM SWIFT IN THE LAND OF WONDERS TOM SWIFT AND HIS WAR TANK TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR SCOUT TOM SWIFT AND HIS UNDERSEA SEARCH TOM SWIFT AMONG THE FIRE FIGHTERS TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC LOCOMOTIVE TOM SWIFT AND HIS FLYING BOAT TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT OIL GUSHER TOM SWIFT AND HIS CHEST OF SECRETS TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRLINE EXPRESS TOM SWIFT CIRCLING THE GLOBE TOM SWIFT AND HIS TALKING PICTURES TOM SWIFT AND HIS HOUSE ON WHEELS TOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG DIRIGIBLE * * * * * THE DON STURDY SERIES By VICTOR APPLETON Author of "The Tom Swift Series" Every red-blooded boy will enjoy the thrilling adventures of Don Sturdy. In company with his uncles, one a big game hunter, the other a noted scientist, he travels far and wide--into the jungles of South America, across the Sahara, deep into the African jungle, up where the Alaskan volcanoes spout, down among the head hunters of Borneo and many other places where there is danger and excitement. Every boy who has known Tom Swift will at once become the boon companion of daring Don Sturdy. DON STURDY ON THE DESERT OF MYSTERY DON STURDY WITH THE BIG SNAKE HUNTERS DON STURDY IN THE TOMBS OF GOLD DON STURDY ACROSS THE NORTH POLE DON STURDY IN THE LAND OF VOLCANOES DON STURDY IN THE PORT OF LOST SHIPS DON STURDY AMONG THE GORILLAS DON STURDY CAPTURED BY HEAD HUNTERS DON STURDY IN LION LAND DON STURDY IN THE LAND OF GIANTS * * * * * THE RADIO BOYS SERIES (Trademark Registered) By ALLEN CHAPMAN Author of the "Railroad Series," Etc. Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself. Here is a series that gives full details of radio work both in sending and receiving--how large and small sets can be made and operated, and with this real information there are the stories of the radio boys and their adventures. Each story is a record of thrilling adventures--rescues, narrow escapes from death, daring exploits in which the radio plays a main part. Each volume is so thoroughly fascinating, so strictly up-to-date, and accurate that all modern boys will peruse them with delight. Each volume has a foreword by Jack Binns, the well known radio expert. THE RADIO BOYS FIRST WIRELESS THE RADIO BOYS AT OCEAN POINT THE RADIO BOYS AT THE SENDING STATION THE RADIO BOYS AT MOUNTAIN PASS THE RADIO BOYS TRAILING A VOICE THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE FOREST RANGERS THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE ICEBERG PATROL THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE FLOOD FIGHTERS THE RADIO BOYS ON SIGNAL ISLAND THE RADIO BOYS IN GOLD VALLEY THE RADIO BOYS AIDING THE SNOWBOUND THE RADIO BOYS ON THE PACIFIC THE RADIO BOYS TO THE RESCUE * * * * * THE RAILROAD SERIES By ALLEN CHAPMAN Author of the "Radio Boys," Etc. Uniform Style of Binding. Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself. In this line of books there is revealed the whole workings of a great American railroad system. There are adventures in abundance--railroad wrecks, dashes through forest fires, the pursuit of a "wildcat" locomotive, the disappearance of a pay car with a large sum of money on board--but there is much more than this--the intense rivalry among railroads and railroad men, the working out of running schedules, the getting through "on time" in spite of all obstacles, and the manipulation of railroad securities by evil men who wish to rule or ruin. RALPH OF THE ROUND HOUSE; or, Bound to Become a Railroad Man. RALPH IN THE SWITCH TOWER; or, Clearing the Track. RALPH ON THE ENGINE; or, The Young Fireman of the Limited Mail. RALPH ON THE OVERLAND EXPRESS; or, The Trials and Triumphs of a Young Engineer. RALPH, THE TRAIN DISPATCHER; or, The Mystery of the Pay Car. RALPH ON THE ARMY TRAIN; or, The Young Railroader's Most Daring Exploit. RALPH ON THE MIDNIGHT FLYER; or, The Wreck at Shadow Valley. RALPH AND THE MISSING MAIL POUCH; or, The Stolen Government Bonds. RALPH ON THE MOUNTAIN DIVISION; or, Fighting Both Flames and Flood. RALPH AND THE TRAIN WRECKERS; or, The Secret of the Blue Freight Cars. * * * * * THE HARDY BOY'S SERIES By FRANKLIN W. DIXON Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself. THE HARDY BOYS are sons of a celebrated American detective, and during vacations and their off time from school they help their father by hunting down clues themselves. THE TOWER TREASURE A dying criminal confessed that his loot had been secreted "in the tower." It remained for the Hardy Boys to make an astonishing discovery that cleared up the mystery. THE HOUSE ON THE CLIFF The house had been vacant and was supposed to be haunted. Mr. Hardy started to investigate--and disappeared! An odd tale, with plenty of excitement. THE SECRET OF THE OLD MILL Counterfeit money was in circulation, and the limit was reached when Mrs. Hardy took some from a stranger. A tale full of thrills. THE MISSING CHUMS Two of the Hardy Boys' chums take a motor trip down the coast. They disappear and are almost rescued by their friends when all are captured. A thrilling story of adventure. HUNTING FOR HIDDEN GOLD Mr. Hardy is injured in tracing some stolen gold. A hunt by the boys leads to an abandoned mine, and there things start to happen. A western story all boys will enjoy. THE SHORE ROAD MYSTERY Automobiles were disappearing most mysteriously from the Shore Road. It remained for the Hardy Boys to solve the mystery. THE SECRET OF THE CAVES When the boys reached the caves they came unexpectedly upon a queer old hermit. THE MYSTERY OF CABIN ISLAND A story of queer adventures on a rockbound island. THE GREAT AIRPORT MYSTERY The Hardy Boys solve the mystery of the disappearance of some valuable mail. * * * * * THE TED SCOTT FLYING STORIES By FRANKLIN W. DIXON Illustrated. Each Volume Complete in Itself. No subject has so thoroughly caught the imagination of young America as aviation. This series has been inspired by recent daring feats of the air, and is dedicated to Lindberg, Byrd, Chamberlin and other heroes of the skies. OVER THE OCEAN TO PARIS; _or Ted Scott's daring long distance flight_. RESCUED IN THE CLOUDS; _or, Ted Scott, Hero of the Air_. OVER THE ROCKIES WITH THE AIR MAIL; _or, Ted Scott, Lost in the Wilderness_. FIRST STOP HONOLULU; _or, Ted Scott, over the Pacific_. THE SEARCH FOR THE LOST FLYERS; _or, Ted Scott, Over the West Indies_. SOUTH OF THE RIO GRANDE; _or, Ted Scott, On a Secret Mission_. ACROSS THE PACIFIC; _or, Ted Scott's Hop to Australia_. THE LONE EAGLE OF THE BORDER; _or, Ted Scott and the Diamond Smugglers_. FLYING AGAINST TIME; _or, Breaking the Ocean to Ocean Record_. OVER THE JUNGLE TRAILS; _or, Ted Scott and the Missing Explorers_. LOST AT THE SOUTH POLE; _or, Ted Scott in Blizzard Land_. THROUGH THE AIR TO ALASKA; _or, Ted Scott's Search in Nugget Valley_. * * * * * WESTERN STORIES FOR BOYS By JAMES CODY FERRIS Individual Colored Wrappers and Illustrations by WALTER S. ROGERS Each Volume Complete in Itself. Thrilling tales of the great west, told primarily for boys but which will be read by all who love mystery, rapid action, and adventures in the great open spaces. The Manly Boys, Roy and Teddy, are the sons of an old ranchman, the owner of many thousands of heads of cattle. The lads know how to ride, how to shoot, and how to take care of themselves under any and all circumstances. The cowboys of the X Bar X Ranch are real cowboys, on the job when required but full of fun and daring--a bunch any reader will be delighted to know. THE X BAR X BOYS ON THE RANCH THE X BAR X BOYS IN THUNDER CANYON THE X BAR X BOYS ON WHIRLPOOL RIVER THE X BAR X BOYS ON BIG BISON TRAIL THE X BAR X BOYS AT THE ROUND-UP THE X BAR X BOYS AT NUGGET CAMP THE X BAR X BOYS AT RUSTLER'S GAP THE X BAR X BOYS AT GRIZZLY PASS THE X BAR X BOYS LOST IN THE ROCKIES * * * * * Football and Baseball Stories Durably Bound. Illustrated. Coloured Wrappers. Every Volume Complete in Itself. The Ralph Henry Barbour Books For Boys In these up-to the minute, spirited genuine stories of boy life there is something which will appeal to every boy with the love of manliness, cleanness and sportsmanship in his heart. LEFT END EDWARDS LEFT TACKLE THAYER LEFT GUARD GILBERT CENTER RUSH ROWLAND FULLBACK FOSTER LEFT HALF HARMON RIGHT END EMERSON RIGHT GUARD GRANT QUARTERBACK BATES RIGHT TACKLE TODD RIGHT HALF HOLLINS * * * * * The Tod Hale Series TOD HALE IN CAMP TOD HALE WITH THE CREW TOD HALE ON THE SCRUB * * * * * The Christy Mathewson Books For Boys Every boy wants to know how to play ball in the fairest and squarest way. These books about boys and baseball are full of wholesome and manly interest and information. PITCHER POLLOCK CATCHER CRAIG FIRST BASE FAULKNER SECOND BASE SLOAN PITCHING IN A PINCH * * * * * THIRD BASE THATCHER, By Everett Scott. * * * * * FLYING STORIES FOR BOYS IN THE AIR WITH ANDY LANE By EUSTACE L. ADAMS Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself. Mr. Adams, the author of this flying series for boys is an experienced aviator and has had many thrilling adventures in the air--both as a member of the famous Lafayette Escadrille in the World War and in the United States Naval Aviation Service flying with the squadrons patrolling the Atlantic Coast. His stories reveal not only his ability to tell daring and exciting air episodes but also his first hand knowledge of modern aeroplanes and the marvelous technical improvements which have been made in the past few years. Andy Lane flies the latest and most highly developed machines in the field of aviation. FIFTEEN DAYS IN THE AIR Andy refuels his ship in the air and sets a new endurance record. OVER THE POLAR ICE In a giant flying boat Andy beats his enemy in a dash to the South Pole. RACING ROUND THE WORLD In a series of thrilling flights Andy wins an air dash around the globe to win a $100,000 prize. THE RUNAWAY AIRSHIP Through foggy skies Andy Lane brings back the world's greatest passenger carrying dirigible, blown away on the wings of a storm. PIRATES OF THE AIR Andy Lane pilots the giant passenger plane Apex No. 4 across the Atlantic in the face of almost overwhelming odds. ON THE WINGS OF FLAME Andy makes a forced landing in the South American jungle in the dead of night and has thrilling experiences with the natives. THE FLYING WINDMILL Andy Lane and his restless crew take off in a monster autogyro in search of pirate treasure. * * * * * BUDDY BOOKS FOR BOYS Illustrated. Individual Colored Wrappers. Tales of old Western pioneer days and the California gold fields; tales of mystery, humor, adventure; thrilling stories of sports and aviation. There is a wide range of subjects in this list of titles--all by well-known authors of books for boys. LEFTY LEIGHTON By Percy Keese Fitzhugh NUMBER 44 By Harold M. Sherman BILL DARROW'S VICTORY By William Heyliger THE STORY OF TERRIBLE TERRY By Percy Keese Fitzhugh BEYOND THE DOG'S NOSE By Harold M. Sherman DING PALMER, AIR DETECTIVE By Harold M. Sherman BEAN-BALL BILL By William Heyliger MARK GILMORE, SCOUT OF THE AIR By Percy Keese Fitzhugh CAMERON MACBAIN, BACKWOODSMAN By Harold M. Sherman FLYING HEELS By Harold M. Sherman FLASHING STEEL By Harold M. Sherman BUFFALO BOY By J. Allan Dunn THE CLOUD PATROL By Irving Crump SPIFFY HENSHAW By Percy Keese Fitzhugh THE PILOT OF THE CLOUD PATROL By Irving Crump DON RAIDER, TRAIL BLAZER By Harold M. Sherman TUCK SIMMS, FORTY-NINER By Edward Leonard WIGWAG WEIGAND By Percy Keese Fitzhugh HERVEY WILLETTS By Percy Keese Fitzhugh SKINNY McCORD By Percy Keese Fitzhugh 
21894	----	produced from scans of public domain material produced by Microsoft for their Live Search Books site.) [Illustration: JACK MANAGED TO GET THE BALL AND START WITH IT FOR THE GOAL. _The Rover Boys at Colby Hall._ _Frontispiece--Page_ 223] THE ROVER BOYS AT COLBY HALL OR _THE STRUGGLES OF THE YOUNG CADETS_ By ARTHUR M. WINFIELD (Edward Stratemeyer) AUTHOR OF "THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL," "THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN," "THE PUTNAM HALL SERIES," ETC. _ILLUSTRATED_ NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS Made in the United States of America BOOKS BY ARTHUR M. WINFIELD (Edward Stratemeyer) THE FIRST ROVER BOYS SERIES THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE THE ROVER BOYS OUT WEST THE ROVER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP THE ROVER BOYS ON LAND AND SEA THE ROVER BOYS ON THE RIVER THE ROVER BOYS ON THE PLAINS THE ROVER BOYS IN SOUTHERN WATERS THE ROVER BOYS ON THE FARM THE ROVER BOYS ON TREASURE ISLE THE ROVER BOYS AT COLLEGE THE ROVER BOYS DOWN EAST THE ROVER BOYS IN THE AIR THE ROVER BOYS IN NEW YORK THE ROVER BOYS IN ALASKA THE ROVER BOYS IN BUSINESS THE ROVER BOYS ON A TOUR THE SECOND ROVER BOYS SERIES THE ROVER BOYS AT COLBY HALL THE PUTNAM HALL SERIES THE PUTNAM HALL CADETS THE PUTNAM HALL RIVALS THE PUTNAM HALL CHAMPIONS THE PUTNAM HALL REBELLION THE PUTNAM HALL ENCAMPMENT THE PUTNAM HALL MYSTERY 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, New York COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY EDWARD STRATEMEYER _The Rover Boys at Colby Hall_ INTRODUCTION MY DEAR BOYS: This book is a complete story in itself, but forms the first volume in a line issued under the general title, "The Second Rover Boys Series for Young Americans." As mentioned in several of the other volumes of the first series, this line was started a number of years ago with the publication of "The Rover Boys at School," in which my readers were introduced to Dick, Tom, and Sam Rover, three wide-awake American lads. In that volume and in those which followed I gave the particulars of their adventures while attending Putnam Hall Military Academy, Brill College, and while on numerous outings, both in our own country and abroad. The Rover boys were, of course, growing older; and, having met three young ladies very much to their liking, each married and settled down, as related in detail in the several volumes immediately preceding this. They were well established in business; and in due course of time Dick Rover was blessed with a son, as was also Sam, while the fun-loving Tom became the proud possessor of a pair of twins who were as full of life as their father had ever been. In this volume the younger Rover boys are old enough to go to boarding school. They are sent to Colby Hall Military Academy, presided over by an old friend and schoolmate of their fathers; and there they make both friends and enemies, and have numerous adventures. In the beginning this chronicle of the younger Rovers, I wish to thank my numerous readers for all the kind things they have said about the other volumes in these series, and I trust that they will make just as good friends of Jack, Andy and Randy, and Fred as they did of Dick, Tom, and Sam Rover. Affectionately and sincerely yours, EDWARD STRATEMEYER. CONTENTS PAGE I INTRODUCING THE YOUNGER ROVERS 1 II SOMETHING OF THE PAST 13 III WHAT FOLLOWED ANOTHER TRICK 24 IV JACK IN WALL STREET 35 V GETTING READY TO LEAVE 45 VI ON THE TRAIN 54 VII A SCENE IN THE DINING CAR 65 VIII AT COLBY HALL 76 IX THE MISSING SUITCASE 88 X GETTING ACQUAINTED 98 XI DOWN IN THE CORNFIELD 109 XII LEARNING TO DRILL 119 XIII FRED IS FOLLOWED 129 XIV THE FIGHT 139 XV IN THE TOWN 148 XVI AT THE MOVING PICTURE THEATER 157 XVII THE GIRLS FROM CLEARWATER HALL 167 XVIII SLUGGER BROWN IS EXPOSED 178 XIX A SQUALL ON THE LAKE 187 XX IN GREAT PERIL 197 XXI ASSISTANCE REFUSED 206 XXII THE MEETING WITH HIXLEY HIGH 216 XXIII TARGET PRACTICE 226 XXIV THE FUN OF HALLOWE'EN 235 XXV OFF ON A HUNT 245 XXVI FROM ONE TROUBLE TO ANOTHER 254 XXVII ELIAS LACY'S DEMAND 265 XXVIII IN THE GUARDROOM 274 XXIX THE EXPOSURE 284 XXX A FOOTBALL VICTORY--CONCLUSION 296 THE ROVER BOYS AT COLBY HALL CHAPTER I INTRODUCING THE YOUNGER ROVERS "For gracious sake! what's that racket?" exclaimed Dick Rover, as he threw down the newspaper he was reading and leaped to his feet. "Sounds to me as if there was a battle royal going on," returned his younger brother, Sam, who was at a desk in the library of the old farmhouse, writing a letter. "It's those boys!" exclaimed Tom Rover, as he tossed aside a copy of a comic paper which he had been looking over. "I'll wager they're up to some mischief again." "Well, if they are your boys, Tom, you mustn't find fault with them," answered Sam Rover, with a twinkle in his eye. "If ever there were chips of the old block, your twins are It with a capital I." "Humph!" snorted Tom Rover. "I don't think Andy and Randy are much ahead of your Fred when it comes to playing tricks, and I think Dick's Jack can hold up his end too." "Never mind about that just now," broke in Dick Rover, hastily. "Let's go out and see what those kids are up to." "All right. But don't be too severe with 'em," pleaded Tom Rover. "Remember, boys will be boys." "That's true, Tom. But we've got to take 'em in hand sooner or later," remonstrated his brother Sam. "If we don't, they'll grow up the wildest bunch ever known." A number of cries of alarm and protest, mingled with fierce cheering, had reached the house from the garden just beyond the broad veranda. As the three Rover brothers hurried through the hallway and outside, the yelling and cheering were renewed. Then, just as Tom Rover stepped out on the veranda, there was a sudden swish and a stream of water from a garden hose caught him directly in the left ear. "Hi! Hi! Stop that!" cried Tom Rover, doing his best to dodge the stream of water, which suddenly seemed to play all over the piazza. "What do you mean by wetting me this way?" "It wasn't my fault, Dad," came from a boy standing on the lawn, both hands clutching a rubber hose held, also, by another boy of about the same age. "It was Fred who turned the hose that way." "Nothing of the sort! It was Randy twisted it that way trying to get it away from me," cried Fred Rover. "And he isn't going to do it!" and thereupon ensued a struggle between the two boys which caused the stream of water to fly over the garden first in one direction and then another. In the meanwhile, not far away another stream of water was issuing from a hose held by two other lads. This, as well as the water from hose number one, had been directed towards the back of the garden, where an elderly white man and an equally elderly colored man were trying to shelter themselves behind a low hedge to keep from becoming drenched. "Fo' de lan's' sake, Massa Dick! won't you make dem boys stop?" cried out the old colored man, when he caught sight of Dick Rover hurrying out on the lawn. "Dem boys is jest nacherly tryin' to drown old Aleck Pop, dat's what dey is!" "They didn't have no call to touch them hoses," came from the elderly white man. "I tol' 'em they mustn't muss with the water; but they won't mind nohow!" and thus speaking old Jack Ness held up his hands in comic despair. "Why! we didn't know you were behind the hedge," came from one of the boys holding the second hose. "We thought you were both down at the barn." "You can't make believe like that, Andy Rover!" returned the old man of all work, shaking his head vigorously. "You knowed I was goin' to trim up this hedge a bit and that Aleck was goin' to help me." "You boys let up with this nonsense," came sternly from Tom Rover. He turned to face one of his twins. "Randy, I ought to give you a thrashing for wetting me like this." "Don't Fred get half the thrashing?" questioned Randy Rover, quizzically, for he could readily see that his parent was not as angry as his words seemed to imply. "I don't like to be selfish, you know. He can have more than his share if he wants it." "You'll take your own thrashings--I don't want 'em," broke in his cousin Fred quickly. "Jack," cried Dick Rover, turning to his son, "turn that water off at once." "I don't know where to turn it off. I didn't turn it on," answered Jack Rover, the oldest of the four boys who had been fooling. "I'll turn it off and fix it so they can't turn it on ag'in," came from old Jack Ness, and away hobbled the man of all work. "I think it's a shame for you boys to drench old Ness and Aleck," was Sam Rover's sober comment. "Both of them might catch cold or get rheumatism." "We didn't start to do anything like that, Dad," answered Fred Rover. "We were going to have a little fight between ourselves, playing rival firemen. We aimed the water at the hedge, and we didn't see Ness and Aleck until they let out a yell." "But I saw two of you playing the water in that direction," cried Dick Rover. "You were one of them, Jack." "Oh, well, Dad, what was the harm after they were all wet?" pleaded his son. "They'd have to change their clothing anyway." "That's just it," added Andy Rover quickly, with his eyes twinkling from merriment. "A little more water won't hurt a person when he's already soaked. It's just like spoiling a rotten egg--it can't be done," and at this reply, both Dick Rover and his brother, the fun-loving Tom, had to turn away their faces to hide their amusement. Nevertheless, Dick sobered his face almost instantly as he answered: "Well, these pranks around the farm have got to stop. You'll have your grandfather and Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha all upset, not to say anything about your sisters and your mothers. It's a fortunate thing that they went down to the town to do some shopping. Otherwise I think all of you would be in for quite some punishment." "Oh! Then you're not going to punish us, are you?" broke in Randy Rover quickly. "That's fine! I knew you wouldn't mind our having a little fun." "Don't be so fast, young man," returned his father. "Your Uncle Dick may be too lenient. I am rather of the opinion that you and your brother, if not your cousins, have got to be taken in hand." "Oh, please, Massa Tom, don' go fo' to punish 'em," burst out old Aleck Pop. "I--I don't s'pose dey meant any great ha'm, even do dey did t'row dat stream of wattah right in dis yere coon's mouf;" and he smiled broadly, showing a row of ivories, rather the worse for wear. "I think all of you boys had better go into the house and get some dry clothing on before your mothers put in an appearance," suggested Dick Rover. "If they see you like this, all dripping wet, they'll certainly be worried." "All right, Dad; I'll do it," answered Jack, quickly. And then he motioned to his cousins. "Come on, let's see how fast we can make the change;" and off into the big farmhouse rushed the boys, clattering up the back stairs one after the other, to the two big rooms which they occupied. "Some boys!" was Sam Rover's comment, as he shook his head doubtfully. "They are certainly growing older--and wilder," returned Dick Rover. "We've got to take them in hand--that is dead certain!" said Tom Rover, with conviction. "Why! if I don't do something with Andy and Randy pretty soon, they'll be as--as----" "As bad as you were, Tom, at their age," finished Dick Rover, with a smile. "Now you've said something, Dick," affirmed Sam Rover. "Andy isn't quite so bad when it comes to playing tricks, although he certainly says some awfully funny things, but when it comes to doing things Randy continually puts me in mind of Tom." "Oh, say! To hear you fellows talk, you'd think that I was the worst boy that ever lived," grumbled Tom Rover. "What did I ever do to raise such a rumpus as this?" "Phew! What did he ever do to raise such a rumpus as this?" mocked Sam Rover. "Well, what didn't he do? When father went to Africa and disappeared and we came down here to good old Valley Brook Farm, wasn't he the constant torment of Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha, and the hired girl, and all the rest of the community until, in sheer despair, uncle had to send us off to Putnam Hall? And when we went to the Hall, who was the first one to get into trouble--exploding a giant firecracker on the campus? Answer me that, will you?" "Ancient history," murmured Tom Rover, dryly. But then, of a sudden his eyes began to twinkle. "No use talking, though, we certainly did have some good times in those days, didn't we?" he continued. "Do you remember how we got the best of old Josiah Crabtree?" "Yes. And how we got the best of a whole lot of our enemies," added Sam Rover. "Yes, and what gloriously good times we did have at Putnam Hall and at Brill College," came from Dick Rover, with a sigh. "Sometimes I wish all those happy days could be lived over again." "When you think of those days, Dick, just think of what great times are in store for our boys," said Sam. "I only trust they have as good times as we had." "I guess they'll know how to take care of themselves all right enough," was Tom Rover's comment. "But, just the same, we can't permit them to become too wild. Sending them to that private school in New York City doesn't seem to have done them so very much good, although, of course, I admit they are well educated for their age." "I know where I'm going to send Jack when the proper time comes," answered Dick Rover. "Where?" came from his brothers. "I'm going to send him to Colby Hall, the military academy which our old school chum, Larry Colby, has opened. Larry sent me some of his literature some time ago; and I have heard from several people that it's already a first-class institution of learning--every bit as good as Putnam Hall." "Well, if it's half as good as dear old Putnam Hall it must be some school," said Tom Rover. "And there's no reason why Larry Colby shouldn't be able to run a first-class military academy. He was a good scholar and a first-class cadet when he was at Putnam Hall." "After Larry left Putnam Hall he went to travel in Europe," continued Dick. "Then he went through college, and immediately after that he joined the militia of New York State and there worked his way up until he now sports the title of colonel." "Colonel Colby, eh? That's going some," was Tom's comment. "His school is patterned after West Point, as was Putnam Hall, and I understand he has a West Point officer there to instruct the cadets in military tactics." "Well, that's the sort of school our boys will need," answered Tom Rover. "The stricter it is the better it will be for them." "I think it would be a good scheme to send them to Larry Colby's school," was Sam's comment. "As Larry knows us so well he would probably take an especial interest in our boys." "Yes. But I wouldn't want him to show our lads any special favors," broke in Tom, quickly. "If the boys went there, I should want them to stand on their own feet, just as we did when we went to Putnam Hall." "That's the talk, Tom! No favoritism!" cried Dick. "The only way to make a boy thoroughly self-reliant is to make him take his own part." "If we are going to send them off to boarding school, they might as well go this Fall as any other time," remarked Sam Rover. "Have you any idea when the term at Colby Hall begins, Dick?" "About the middle of September." "It's the middle of August now. That would give us a full month in which to make arrangements and for them in which to get ready." "Have you ever said anything to the twins about going to boarding school, Tom?" questioned Sam. "Oh, yes. They understand that they are to go to some place sooner or later. Fred understands it, too, doesn't he?" "Yes." "And I told Jack only a short while ago that he must get ready to think of leaving home," put in Dick Rover. "Of course, it will be rather hard on the boys at first. They have never been away from us at all except the two weeks when they were out in that boys' camp." "They'll have to get used to it, just as we got used to it when father went off to Africa and Uncle Randy sent us to Putnam Hall. Perhaps we had better tell them----" Sam Rover broke off short as a series of shrieks in a high-pitched feminine voice issued from the pantry of the big farmhouse. An instant later a hired girl, followed by a middle-aged cook, came flying forth from the kitchen doorway. "Oh, save me! Save me!" cried the hired girl, clutching her skirts tightly around her ankles, "Save me!" "Oh, Mr. Rover! Mr. Rover! It's those dreadful boys! I won't stay here another minute!" screamed the cook, flourishing a big spoon in one hand and a dish-cloth in the other. "It's outrageous! That's what it is! I'm going to pack my trunk and leave this house right away!" "What's the matter?" demanded Tom Rover, quickly. "Are you hurt?" came anxiously from Dick. "What have the boys done now?" questioned Sam. "What have they done?" wailed the hired girl. "I just went into the pantry and opened the closet door and out jumped about a thousand mice at me!" "Yes! and they are running all over the house!" broke in the cook savagely. "One of 'em ran right over my foot and tried to bite me! I'm going to pack my trunk and leave! I won't stay here another minute!" CHAPTER II SOMETHING OF THE PAST At the announcement of the hired girl that their sons had let loose in the farmhouse a thousand mice--more or less--the three Rover brothers looked at each other enquiringly. "Another joke--and so soon!" gasped Sam Rover. "That certainly is the limit!" broke out Dick Rover, as he started for the house. "If I find Andy and Randy have been up to another trick right on top of this water-hose nonsense, I'll give them a tanning they won't forget in a hurry," added Tom Rover; and then he and Sam followed Dick up the back porch and into the kitchen. To the readers of the former volumes in these two "Rover Boys Series," Dick, Tom and Sam Rover will need no special introduction. For the benefit of others, however, let me state that the sober-minded and determined Dick was the oldest of the three, with the fun-loving Tom coming next and sturdy Sam being the youngest. They were the sons of one Anderson Rover, who, when not traveling, made his home at Valley Brook Farm, in New York State, living there with his brother Randolph Rover and wife Martha. While Dick, Tom, and Sam were quite young, and while their father was off exploring in the interior of Africa, the three Rovers had been sent to Putnam Hall Military Academy, where they had made a few enemies and likewise a host of friends, including a manly and straight-forward cadet named Lawrence Colby. After many adventures both at school and in various portions of the globe, they had graduated from Putnam Hall with honor and then entered Brill College. At that time, Mr. Anderson Rover, who had long since returned from Africa, was not in the best of health. He had numerous business interests both in Wall Street, New York City, and in the West to take care of, and presently it was found necessary that Dick leave college and take charge of business matters for his parent. In this task Dick was soon aided by Tom, leaving Sam the only member of the family to graduate from Brill. While at Putnam Hall the three Rovers had become acquainted with three charming girls, Dora Stanhope and her cousins, Nellie and Grace Laning. This acquaintance had ripened into loving intimacy; and when Dick went into business he took Dora Stanhope for his life-long partner. A little later Tom was married to Nellie Laning, and, after he had left Brill and joined his brothers in conducting their father's various business enterprises, Sam married Grace Laning. With the aid of Mr. Anderson Rover and some others, The Rover Company was organized with offices on Wall Street, New York City. The company dealt in stocks, bonds, real estate, and other investments; and Dick was now president, with Tom secretary and Sam treasurer. The company had been prosperous from the start, although on several occasions enemies had done their best to give the concern a black eye. When they were first married, Dick and his beautiful wife Dora had begun housekeeping in a cosy apartment in the metropolis, and they had presently been followed by Tom and Sam. But two years later the three brothers had a chance to buy a beautiful plot of ground on Riverside Drive facing the noble Hudson River, and on this they built three fine houses adjoining each other, Dick living in the middle house with Tom on one side and Sam on the other. Before the happy young folks moved into the new homes, Dick and Dora were blessed with a little son, who later on was named John, after Mr. John Laning. Later still, this couple had a daughter, whom they named Martha, after Aunt Martha of Valley Brook Farm. Little Jack, as he was called in those days, was a wonderfully bright and clever lad with many of the clear-minded qualities which had made his father so successful in life. About the time young Jack was presented with a baby sister, Tom and Nellie Rover came forward with twin boys, one of whom was named Anderson, after his grandfather, and the other Randolph, after his uncle. Andy and Randy, as they were always called for short, were exceedingly bright, each taking after his father, Andy always saying things that were more or less funny and Randy playing tricks whenever he got the chance. They were truly chips off the old block, and Tom knew it, although outwardly he professed to be ignorant of the fact. "Those twins will be some boys when they grow up," was old Anderson Rover's comment, when the lads were less than five years old. "They're just as full of fun now as Tom ever dared to be." "So they are," answered his brother Randolph. "My! my! what will they ever do with them when they get a little older?" "I sha'n't mind," said Aunt Martha, her eyes beaming brightly. "That is, if they are really and truly as good-hearted as Tom has always been. He certainly was the worst of the lot when it came to playing jokes, but no lad ever had a better heart than Tom--not one!" About the time that Tom began to boast about his twins, Sam and Grace came along with a beautiful little girl, whom they named Mary, after Mrs. Laning. About a year later the girl was followed by a boy, and this sturdy little chap was named Fred, after Sam's old school chum, Fred Garrison. Living so close together, the four boys and the two girls were brought up almost like one big family. The girls were all but inseparable, and the boys could generally be found together, either studying, playing, or having a good time. When the time came to set the children to studying, Martha and Mary were placed in a private school for girls located but a short distance from their homes. It was thought best, however, at the start to send the boys to a public school, and this was done. For three years matters went along very well, and during that time The Rover Company prospered far beyond the expectations of those in charge. But then Andy and Randy, becoming a little older, began to exhibit their talent for playing tricks, and usually they were seconded in these efforts by Jack and Fred. Once or twice all of the boys were reported by the school principal for this, and each time the lads were remonstrated with by their fathers in such a manner that, as young Andy expressed it, "it was far more comfortable to sit down standing up than it was any other way." "I think I'll have to do something with those twins," said Tom Rover to his wife, after the boys had been reported for more tricks. "The school they go to doesn't seem to be strict enough." And thereupon he had sent the boys to a private establishment further uptown. Jack and Fred had begged their parents that they might be allowed to do likewise; and at this private school the four cousins had been kept until the close of the Spring term the preceding June. To the credit of this school it must be said that the boys advanced rapidly in their studies. Their deportment, however, was apparently no better than it had been before, and as a consequence Tom Rover was more worried than ever, while Dick and Sam began to wonder secretly whether it would not be advisable to separate their sons from the mischievous twins. One day Dick broached this subject to his offspring. At once young Jack set up a wild remonstrance. "Oh, Dad! don't take me away from Andy and Randy and Fred!" he pleaded. "Why, we are just like brothers! I wouldn't know how to get along without 'em." "But I'm afraid Andy and Randy are leading you into bad habits," returned Dick Rover. "I don't think so, Dad. Anyway, I've heard folks say that Andy and Randy are no worse than their father used to be--and you never wanted to be separated from Uncle Tom, did you?" At this question Dick Rover's face took on a sudden sober look. "No; I never wanted to be separated from your uncle, that's true," he said. "But I tell you what we did used to do. When his pranks got too wild I and your Uncle Sam used to hold him in." "All right then, Dad. I'll tell Fred about this, and we'll see what we can do towards holding in Andy and Randy;" and there, after some more talk along the same line, the matter was allowed to rest. Young Jack was as good as his word, and during the remainder of that Spring term at the private school in New York City, Andy and Randy were as well behaved as could possibly be expected from two red-blooded lads. It had been planned by the Rovers that the Summer should be spent by all the young folks and their mothers at Valley Brook Farm, the fathers to come down from time to time, and especially over the week ends. Since Dick, Tom, and Sam had become married the farm had been enlarged by the purchase of two hundred additional acres. The farmhouse, too, had been made larger, with the old portion remodeled, and a water system from the rapidly-growing town of Dexter's Corners, as well as electric lighting, had been installed. A telephone had been put in some years previous. At first after their arrival at their grandfather's home, the four boys had been content to take it easy, spending their time roaming the fields, helping to gather the fruit, of which there was great abundance, and in going fishing and swimming. But then Andy and Randy had found time growing a little heavy on their hands, and one prank had been followed by another. Some of the tricks had been played on Jack and Fred, and they, of course, had done their best to retaliate, and this had, on more than one occasion, brought forth a forceful, but good-natured, pitched battle, and the fathers and the others present had had all they could do to hold the boys in check. "I never saw such boys," was Mary Rover's comment to her brother Fred. "Why can't you behave yourselves just as Martha and I do?" "Oh, girls never have any good times," answered Fred. "They just sit around and primp up and read, and do things like that." "Indeed!" and Mary tossed her curly head. "I think we have just as good times as you boys, every bit; but we don't have to be rough about it;" and then she ran off to play a game of lawn tennis with her cousin Martha. The time was the middle of August, and as the summer was proving to be an unusually warm one, all the older Rovers were glad enough to take it easy on the farm, they having earlier in the season been down to the seashore for a couple of weeks. Dick, Tom and Sam had each taken a week off at various times, and all managed to get down to the farm early every Saturday afternoon, to remain until Sunday night or Monday morning. And it was late on a Saturday afternoon, when the ladies and the girls had gone to Dexter's Corners to do some shopping, and while the fathers were busy reading and writing, that the events occurred with which the present story opens. As Dick Rover ran into the farmhouse he heard a slight scream coming from the sitting-room. The scream was followed by exclamations from two men, and then a wild thumping as if someone was hitting the floor with a cane. "It's a mouse--several of 'em!" came in the voice of Grandfather Rover. "Oh, my! oh, my! wherever did they come from?" exclaimed old Aunt Martha. "Never mind where they came from, I'll fix 'em," asserted old Randolph Rover, and then followed another thumping as he rushed around between the chairs and behind the sofa, trying to slaughter some of the scampering mice with his heavy walking stick. "Where are they? Where are those mice?" demanded Tom Rover, giving a hasty glance around the kitchen. "There is one--under the sink!" ejaculated his brother Sam, and catching up a stove lifter he let fly with such accurate aim that the unhappy rodent was despatched on the spot. "I see another one back of the pantry door," said Tom Rover a moment later, and then made a dive into the pantry. Here, in a side closet, the door of which was partly open, he saw a broom and grabbed it quickly. Then he made a wild pass at the mouse, but the rodent eluded him and scrambled over the kitchen floor and into the sitting-room. "Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Did you ever see so many mice?" came in a wailing voice from Aunt Martha. She had clambered up on a chair and stood there holding her dress tightly around her feet. "It's another of those boys' tricks, that's what it is," asserted Grandfather Rover. "They ought to be punished for it." "Yes. But we've got to get rid of these mice first," answered his brother. Then Randolph Rover, seeing a mouse scampering across the side of the room, threw his walking stick at it with all his force. But his aim was poor and the walking stick, striking the edge of the table, glanced off and hit a fish-globe, smashing it to pieces and sending the water and the goldfish flying in every direction. CHAPTER III WHAT FOLLOWED ANOTHER TRICK When the hubbub downstairs started the four Rover boys were up in their adjoining bedrooms partly undressed and in the midst of a couple of impromptu boxing matches, one taking place between Andy and Jack and the other between Randy and Fred. "There, my boy, how do you like that?" cried Andy, as, dancing around, he managed to land a slapping blow on Jack's bare shoulder. "Fine, child! fine!" retorted young Jack. "But not half as good as this," he continued, and, with a sudden spring, he landed one blow on Andy's chest and another on his shoulder which sent Tom's son staggering half-way across the bed. "Hurrah! one man down! Now for the next!" cried Fred, and managed to land several blows in quick succession on Randy's shoulder. But then the fun-loving twin came at him with a rush, sending him into a corner and on to a little table containing a number of books. As Fred went down the table did likewise and the books fell all over him. "Whoop!" roared Randy in his delight. "Down and buried!" "But not dead," retorted Fred, promptly, and catching up several of the books he hurled them in quick succession at his opponent. One in particular caught Randy in the stomach, and down he sat with a suddenness that jarred the floor. "Say!" exclaimed Jack, suddenly, and held up his hand, "this won't do at all. The folks downstairs will think we're pulling the house down over their ears. We'll have to slow up a bit. You know what our fathers said a little while ago." "All right," returned Andy, promptly, as he arose to his feet. "After this we'll be as quiet as a thunder storm in a moving picture drama." "That's the talk! Silence it is!" cried his twin; and then to let off a little extra steam he silently turned a cart-wheel across the floor, after which he proceeded with his toilet making. The boys were still minus their collars and ties when they suddenly realized that something unusual was taking place downstairs. They had closed the bedroom doors, but now all of them rushed out into the hallway. "Great watermelons!" groaned Randy, and turned slightly pale. "I forgot all about 'em!" "About what?" chimed in Jack. "You don't mean the mice?" demanded Andy. "Yes, I do!" "What mice?" questioned Fred. "The mice I caught under the flooring of the old wagon house yesterday," answered Randy. "I thought you put them in a cage and drowned them in the brook." "I was going to do that, but then I changed my mind and put 'em in a couple of boxes. I thought maybe I might have a chance to train 'em--just like those mice we once saw in a show." "Where did you put those boxes?" demanded Andy, quickly. "I--I--didn't know exactly what to do with 'em, so--I--I--put 'em on the shelf in the pantry downstairs," faltered the twin. "Great catfish, Randy! you've got us into a fine mess!" broke in Fred. "Coming right on top of that trouble with the water-hose!" added Jack, ruefully. After that there was a moment of silence, the four cousins gazing at each other uncertainly. Then Randy drew a long breath. "Well, I'm going downstairs to see what's doing," he declared. "If I've got to suffer for this, I might as well see the fun." "I'm going down, too," responded his twin, and side by side they ran down the stairs, with Jack and Fred close at their heels. Perhaps it was poetic justice that Randy, who had been the cause of this commotion, should suffer the worst for it. Hardly had he put his foot in the lower hallway of the farmhouse when a mouse, scampering from a nearby doorway, made directly for him. The boy made a wild jump to step on the rodent, missed his footing, and came down flat on his back. He landed directly at the foot of the stairs, and his brother, being unable to stop, fell on top of him. "Hi! Get off of me!" gasped the unfortunate youth. "What do you want to do--crack my head open?" "Next time you go down, give a fellow warning," retorted his brother, scrambling to his feet; and then the two boys, with Jack and Fred, entered the sitting-room, doing this just as their fathers came in from the direction of the kitchen and just when old Uncle Randolph made his unfortunate attack on the fish-globe. "Hello! look at the fish on the floor," exclaimed Jack. "What's the matter, Grandfather? Did the mice upset the globe?" "No. I did that, trying to hit one of the pesky creatures," explained old Uncle Randolph. "We must kill them some way or they'll get all over the house, and then none of us will have any peace." "I wouldn't care for a piece of mouse, anyway," remarked Andy, but in such a low tone that none of the older folks heard him. "Everybody get a stick and go at those mice," commanded Dick Rover, and looked at the boys so sternly they all began to feel uncomfortable. "We've got either to kill them or drive them out of the house, otherwise the lady folks won't be able to sleep to-night." "I'll get a poker and kill as many of 'em as I can," cried Randy, and ran out into the kitchen to do as he had mentioned. The other boys, as well as their fathers, armed themselves with canes, umbrellas, and brooms, and for the next fifteen minutes there was a rapid and thorough search for all of the rodents. Several were driven outside through the open doors, while others were caught and slaughtered in various parts of the kitchen, the pantry, and the rooms adjoining. Then the goldfish were gathered up and put into another bowl of water and the bits of broken glass were removed. "I'm awfully sorry, Uncle Randy, you broke the fish-globe," said Randy, contritely, "but I'm glad you saved the fish." "Look here, young man, I want to talk to you--and to you, too!" cried Tom, sharply, and without more ado caught each twin by the arm and marched them into the library. "Wow! I'm afraid Andy and Randy are in for it now," whispered Fred to Jack. "Well, Randy certainly had no right to put those mice in the pantry," answered his cousin. "Just the same, I hope Uncle Tom isn't too severe with 'em." "I don't see why Andy should be punished for this." "Oh, they always stick together. You know that as well as I do." "So I do. Isn't it wonderful how each is willing to share the blame with the other?" added Fred, with deep admiration. Once in the library, Tom Rover shut the doors tightly and then faced his twin sons. "Now then, I want the truth about this," he commenced sternly. "Where did those mice come from?" "They came from under the flooring of the old wagon house," answered Randy. "I caught them there when the carpenters tore up the floor to put down the new one." "And where did you put them?" "I put 'em in a--er--a couple of boxes." "Randy was going to keep the mice and try to teach 'em to do tricks, just the same as those mice we once saw in a vaudeville show," put in Andy, quickly, to do what he could to shield his brother. "More tricks, eh?" was Tom's dry comment. "It seems to me that it is nothing but tricks lately. I suppose you placed the boxes in the pantry just so the mice wouldn't catch cold, didn't you?" he went on quizzically. "No, sir. I--I--placed 'em there just for safekeeping," was the hesitating answer. "I didn't know that Lulu would disturb them." "That's it, Dad. I'm sure Randy didn't want 'em disturbed." "And what did you have to do with this, Andy?" demanded the father. At this the boy addressed had nothing to say. "He had nothing to do with it, Dad," answered Randy. "I got the mice and put 'em in the two boxes. I s'pose it wasn't just the right thing to put 'em in the pantry, but I give you my word I didn't think they'd be upset the way they were and be sent running all over the house. If Lulu hadn't touched the boxes, the mice would be there yet." "Perhaps," answered Tom Rover, dryly. "Just the same, I think you placed the boxes there hoping that Lulu or the cook would have curiosity enough to see what they contained. As it is, your actions have upset the whole house, brought on the destruction of the fish-globe, and the cook is so upset that she has threatened to leave." "Oh, she won't leave, Dad. She likes her big wages too well," remarked Andy, quickly. "I don't know about that, Son. Nobody is going to stand for your tricks much longer. They are getting altogether too numerous." Tom continued to look as stern as possible. "I've got to take both of you in hand, and that is all there is to it. You are growing wilder every day. Something has got to be done. Now you go right upstairs and finish dressing, and don't dare to let me hear of any more tricks being played for the rest of this day, otherwise I'll not only give you a sound thrashing, but I'll cut off your spending money and do several other things that you won't like;" and, thus speaking, the father of the twins opened the door to the hall and shoved them both out towards the stairs with more force than they had felt for some time. The two lads lost no time in retiring to their bedroom. "Say, Randy, I think you got off rather easily," remarked Andy, when they were alone. "I think so myself," was the quick response. "I thought Dad would be so mad that he would give me one everlasting licking." "Say! how did you make out?" questioned Fred, eagerly, as he came sneaking in, followed by Jack. "You don't look as if you had suffered very much," was Jack's comment. "I thought you'd come out looking as if you'd been through a threshing machine." What Randy and Andy had to tell was quickly related. At the conclusion, Jack, who being somewhat older than any of the others, was looked upon as something of a leader, shook his head thoughtfully. "I guess we had better pull in our horns a little, for a while at least," was his conclusion. "My father was mighty mad, too, and so was Fred's. If we don't look out, we'll all get in wrong. They didn't like that wetting business to start with." While the boys were finishing their toilet and discussing the matter, their fathers were doing what they could to set matters to rights downstairs, and to pacify their Aunt Martha and also the cook and the hired girl. The cook was particularly wrought up. "It ain't the first time nor the second time nor the third time that them boys have played tricks on us," she declared. "It's been nothin' but one thing or 'nother ever since they came here--and last Summer it was the same way. The first thing you know, they'll be doin' somethin' awful, and some of us'll get hurt. I think I had better leave." "If she leaves, I'll leave too," declared the hired girl. "Don't think of leaving," said Tom Rover. "I'll take those boys in hand and see to it that they don't bother you any more. If they do the least thing, I'll pack them back to our house in New York." And after a little more talk he succeeded in mollifying the cook and the hired girl to such an extent that they went back to their work. Then the fathers of the boys withdrew once more to the library. "I don't know how you feel about it," began Tom, after he had picked up his comic paper once more and then thrown it aside in disgust. "I begin to think that the best thing I can do is to pack those twins off to Colby Hall." "I don't know but what I agree with you, Tom," answered Sam. "And if you do send them, I think Fred might as well go along." "Yes; and Jack also," added Dick. "Those boys will never want to be separated, and I don't know that we could do better than to place them under Larry Colby's care, especially if we let Larry know just how wild they are apt to be and tell him to take them in hand." "Yes; I'd want Larry to know all about them," answered Tom. "And I'd want him to give me his word that he'd keep a sharp eye on Andy and Randy and punish them severely every time they broke any of the rules. It's the only way to bring them up properly." "All right then, Tom. If you think that way and Dick thinks the same, let's get right down to business and send a letter to Larry Colby to-night," said Sam. "But what of the boys' mothers?" questioned Dick Rover. He knew that his wife Dora would grieve considerably over having young Jack leave home. "We'll have to explain the situation to them and get them to agree," answered Tom, firmly. CHAPTER IV JACK IN WALL STREET "Just to think, Jack! a week from to-day we'll be on our way to Colby Hall Military Academy." "Yes, Fred. Doesn't it seem wonderful? I do hope we'll find the school to our liking," returned Jack, with a serious look on his face. "It would be too bad to go to some punk school." "Oh, you can be sure that the school is all right; otherwise our fathers wouldn't have picked it out for us," broke in Andy. "They know what a good military academy is. Didn't they go to that famous old Putnam Hall?" "I wish we could have gone to Putnam Hall," added Randy. "From what dad has told me, it must have been one dandy school." "Well, we can't go to something that ain't," answered his twin with a grin. "Putnam Hall doesn't exist any more. When it burnt to the ground, Captain Putnam felt too old to have it rebuilt, and so he settled with the insurance companies and retired." "Gee! but won't we have dandy times if that school is what we hope for?" cried Andy. "We'll make things hum, won't we?" "Right you are!" came in a chorus from the others. And then, in sudden high spirits, the boys began to wrestle with each other, ending up with something of a pillow fight in which not only pillows but also bolsters and numerous other articles were used as missiles. After a never-to-be-forgotten vacation at Valley Brook Farm, the boys, along with their sisters and their parents, had returned to their homes in New York City. The Summer was almost at an end, and schools all over were opening for the Fall and Winter term. It had been no easy task for Dick, Tom, and Sam Rover to convince their wives that it would be best to send the boys to some strict boarding school instead of to the private school which they had been attending in the metropolis. Gentle Dora Rover had cried a little at the thought of having her only son Jack leave home, and Grace Rover had been affected the same way at the thought of parting from her only boy Fred. "But both of you will be better off than I shall be," had been Nellie Rover's comment. "Each of you will have a daughter still at home, while both of my twins will be gone and I'll have nobody;" and her eyes, too, had filled with tears. But with it all, the mothers were sensible women, and they agreed with their husbands that the boys needed to be placed under strict discipline and that this was not possible at the school which they had been attending. "That school is altogether too fashionable," had been Dick Rover's comment. "They make regular dudes of the pupils and they think more of high collars and neckties and patent-leather shoes than they do of reading, writing and arithmetic. Now, I want Jack to get a good education and I want him to learn how to behave himself while he is getting it." And so, after several communications had passed between the Rovers and Colonel Lawrence Colby, it was settled that the boys should be enlisted as cadets at Colby Hall. "Cease firing!" cried Jack, when there came a lull in the pillow fight. "The first thing you know somebody will come in here and we'll be in hot water again." The boys were up in Jack's bedroom, and all of their mothers were downstairs, talking over the question of the wardrobes the lads were to take along to school. "All right, Commodore," answered Andy, gaily. "Out of the trenches, boys; the war is over!" "Suits me," panted Randy, who was all out of wind from his exertions. "Melt the cannons into telephones and send messages to the girls that the soldier boys are coming home," and at this remark there was a short laugh. Then all the boys proceeded to make themselves comfortable in various attitudes around the bedroom. "Say! I'm glad of one thing," remarked Fred; "and that is, we won't be utter strangers at Colby Hall. Spouter Powell will be there and so will Gif Garrison." It may be as well to explain here that Spouter Powell, whose real first name was Richard, was the son of the Rovers' old friend, John Powell, commonly called Songbird. Richard Powell did not seem to have much of his father's ability to write verse, but he did have a great fondness for making speeches, whence had come his nickname of Spouter. Gifford Garrison, always called Gif for short, was the son of the Rovers' old schoolmate, Fred Garrison, after whom Fred Rover had been named. Gif was a big, strong youth who doted on athletic sports of all kinds. Both Gif and Spouter had visited the Rover boys on a number of occasions, and consequently all of the lads were well acquainted. "Yes, I'll be glad to meet Gif and Spouter," returned Jack. "I like them both, even though Spouter gets pretty talky sometimes." Just then there sounded downstairs a postman's whistle, and a minute later Martha Rover came upstairs. "Here's a letter for you, Jack," said his sister, holding it out. "Thanks," he returned, as he took the communication and glanced at it. "Why! what do you know about this? Here we were just talking about Gif and Spouter, and here is a letter from Gif now," he cried. "Wonder what he's got to say," remarked Fred, and then, as he saw his cousin lingering at the doorway, he added: "Don't you want to come in, Martha, and join us?" "No, thank you," she returned. "I'm going out with Mary. We're going to buy some things for you boys to take along when you go to that boarding school." "Oh, I know what those will be," burst out Andy, gaily. "Pink neckties with yellow dots, or nice red socks with blue rings around 'em." "Oh, the idea!" burst out the girl. "What an eye for color you have!" "Well, maybe it was blue socks with red rings around 'em," went on Andy, innocently; "and maybe the pink neckties will be plain yellow." "Oh, Cousin Andy! I think you're just the worst ever!" shrieked Martha, and then ran downstairs to join those below. In the meantime, Jack had torn open the letter and was scanning it hastily. "Don't be selfish!" burst out Fred, curiously. "If Gif has anything to say about that school, let us hear it." "Sure. I'll read it out loud," answered his cousin. The communication, which was a rather long one, was of the usual boyish type, and much of it was of no particular interest. Several paragraphs, however, may be quoted here. * * * * * "You will be interested to know that besides Spouter Powell there will be another boy here who may or may not join our set. The fellow's name is Walter Baxter, and he is the son of Dan Baxter, the man who, years ago, caused your father and your uncles so much trouble at Putnam Hall and other places. Baxter is very hot-tempered and willing to fight almost any time. "When I get back to school I am going in for athletics, particularly football this Fall, and I hope some of you fellows will want to go into athletics, too, for it will make it more interesting to have some friends on the eleven. Spouter don't go in for that sort of thing. He likes to save his wind for talk." * * * * * "Hum! that's rather interesting," was Randy's comment. "I wonder if this Walt Baxter will try to make trouble for us like his father did for our fathers?" "Well, if he does, I guess we can take care of him, just as our folks took care of his father," returned his twin. "No use borrowing trouble," came from Fred. "I've heard from my dad that Mr. Dan Baxter has reformed and is now a first-class business man and is quite prosperous. It may be that while his son Walt is somewhat hot-tempered, he may still be a thoroughly good fellow. I wouldn't give a rap for a boy that didn't show some spirit once in a while." On the following morning Jack was on the point of going over to Fred's house to return some books he had borrowed, when his father called to him. "I want you to go down to our offices with me this morning, Jack," said Dick Rover. "I've got a package there that I meant to bring up for your mother. You can come right back with it." "All right, Dad. I'll be with you in a minute," answered the son, and ran off to deliver the books and to let Fred, as well as Randy and Andy, know where he was going. Jack's temperament was a good deal like that of his father, and, young as he was, he already took an interest in what was being done in the offices of The Rover Company. On more than one occasion he had begged his parent's permission to visit the place on Wall Street, and once had been granted a "look-in" at the Stock Exchange during one of its busiest sessions. That sight was one he had never forgotten. When the Rovers had first opened up in Wall Street, they had taken possession of a set of rather shabby offices formerly occupied by another firm with which they had had various difficulties, the particulars of which were related in "The Rover Boys in New York" and "The Rover Boys in Business." Now, however, they occupied the entire fourth floor of another building in a much better location. There was a large general office and a counting room, and a private office for each of the three brothers. Their office help numbered about twenty; and when business was brisk, the place consequently was a decidedly busy one. When the offices of The Rover Company were reached, Dick Rover brought out the package intended for his wife. It was quite a bundle, and not wrapped as well as it might have been. "You'd better let the office boy put an extra string around that, Jack," said the father. "Oh, that's all right, Dad. I can get it home just as it is. There won't be much of a crowd on the subway train going uptown this time of day." Jack spent a few minutes in the offices, speaking to the office boy and to several of the clerks with whom he was acquainted, and then started off for home, the bundle under his arm. He came down by one of the several elevators to the lower corridor of the building, and there stood in the wide-open doorway, contemplating the bustle in the narrow street beyond. Wall Street is the financial heart of our nation, and the activity there during business hours is something tremendous. As Jack stood with his bundle under his arm, his attention was suddenly attracted to what was going on close by, beyond several columns which formed a part of the entrance to the building. In a niche of the wall stood a peddler, a short, sallow-faced and hollow-eyed man, evidently of foreign birth, trying to sell some cheap wares displayed on a little three-legged stand which he had set up. In front of the peddler stood a tall, slim, overbearing boy, loudly dressed and wearing light-colored spats and gloves to match. "You've got no right to plank yourself here!" cried the overbearing boy savagely. "You get out of here or I'll dump that trash of yours into the street." "Please, Mister, I am a poor man," pleaded the peddler in very broken English. "Please, Mister, you buy somet'in'?" "You get out, I tell you!" went on the tall youth with a very lordly air. "Get out, I tell you! You foreigners are all thieves! Get out of here!" And without further warning he caught the thin, little peddler by the shoulder and gave him such a shove that the man had all he could do to keep from falling and from upsetting his little stock in trade. CHAPTER V GETTING READY TO LEAVE "The mean fellow!" Such was Jack's exclamation as he witnessed the scene between the hollow-eyed little street peddler and the dudish, overbearing youth who had attacked him. "Get out, I tell you!" repeated the overbearing boy, as the peddler straightened up and caught hold of his little stand to keep it from tumbling over. "I've a big mind to kick your stuff into the street for you." "Let up there, you big boob!" cried Jack, and without stopping to think twice he leaped towards the other youth and caught him firmly by the arm. The boy who had attacked the peddler had not expected such interference, and he whirled around greatly surprised, especially when he saw a boy smaller than himself confronting him. "What--what do you mean by catching hold of me this way?" he stammered. "Why can't you leave that poor peddler alone?" retorted Jack. "What business is this of yours?" "That chap wasn't doing any harm here so far as I can see. He's only trying to earn his living." "See here, kid! this is none of your affair, and I want you to keep out of it," stormed the dudish-looking youth. "We don't allow those fellows around this building." "Then you tell him to move on in a decent kind of way," returned Jack. "I'll do as I please." The big boy turned again towards the peddler and made a motion as if to push both the man and his stand down, but, instantly, Jack caught hold of him again and pulled him back, shoving him in between two pillars of the building's entrance. "You had better go on," said Jack to the peddler, and, evidently much frightened by what was occurring, the little man took up his stand and disappeared as if by magic in the crowd on the street. "Say! you've got gall to interfere with me!" burst out the big youth, glaring at Jack. "I'll teach you a lesson;" and with a sudden move he pulled Jack's bundle from under his arm and threw it out into the street. "Now you go about your business and don't you interfere with me again." To have the bundle belonging to his mother treated in that fashion made the young Rover's blood boil. He jumped at the big youth, and as the other aimed a blow at him he dodged and then caught his opponent by the ear. "Ouch! Let go!" screamed the big youth in sudden pain, and then he landed a blow on Jack's shoulder and received a crack on the chin in return. How far this encounter might have gone, it is hard to say, but at that moment, while a crowd was beginning to gather, there came a sudden interruption in the appearance of Jack's Uncle Tom, followed by his Uncle Sam. "Hello! What does this mean?" demanded Tom Rover, as he stepped between the two boys. "It means that I've got an account to settle with that young snip, Mr. Rover!" cried the big youth savagely and giving Jack a look full of hatred. "Uncle Tom, that fellow is nothing but a brute," declared Jack. "A brute? What do you mean?" "He just attacked a poor little peddler who was trying to sell a few things from a stand here in the corner. He tried to knock the peddler down and upset his stand. I told him to stop and then he attacked me." "Humph! Are you this boy's uncle, Mr. Rover?" asked the big youth, in surprise. "I am, Martell." "Then I want to tell you that he has no right to interfere with me," went on Napoleon Martell, uglily. "Those peddlers are always hanging around here and my opinion is they are all thieves." "That fellow was no more a thief than you are," broke in Jack, sturdily. "Ha! Do you mean to call me a thief?" "Come, Jack, such talk won't do down here in Wall Street," remonstrated his Uncle Sam, who had listened closely to what had been said. Sam Rover, from a distance, had seen the bundle flung into the gutter and had picked it up. Both the wrapping and the string were broken, but the contents of the package seemed to be uninjured. "If that kid is your nephew, you had better take him in hand," grumbled Napoleon Martell, and then, not wishing to have any more words with the two older Rovers, he broke through the crowd which had gathered and hurried up the street. "Come into the building," ordered Tom Rover to Jack, for the crowd was getting denser every instant; boys and men who had been hurrying by stopped to find out what was the matter. "I guess I'll have to go back to get that bundle tied up again," answered Jack. The encounter had excited him not a little. "Uncle Tom, that fellow seemed to know you?" "Yes, I know that boy. His name is Napoleon Martell, although they call him Nappy for short. He is the son of Nelson Martell, one of our rivals in business, a man who occupies the floor above us in this building." "I didn't know Nappy was much of a scrapper," was Sam Rover's comment. "I thought he was too much of a dude to fight." "He certainly is a dude as far as appearances go," answered Jack; "but he has the manner of a brute. I wish now I'd had the chance to give him a good licking," he went on heartily. "You had better go slow when it comes to fighting," returned his uncle. "A fight seldom settles anything." "Didn't you ever have any fights, Uncle Sam?" At this direct question Sam Rover's face became a study while his brother Tom looked at him rather quizzically. "Yes! I had my share of fights when I was a boy," admitted the uncle. "But, looking back, I think a good many of them might have been avoided. Of course, I expect a boy to take his own part and not be a coward. But a fight isn't always the best way to settle a difficulty." Once back in the offices, Jack did not hesitate to tell his father about what had happened. In the meantime, an office boy rewrapped the bundle, securing it this time with a stout cord. "I am sorry to hear about this trouble, Jack," said his father seriously. "I don't want you to grow up into a scrapper." "But, Dad, I couldn't stand by and see that fellow abuse a poor little peddler like that," answered the son. "It wasn't fair at all! What right had that Nappy Martell to order the man away?" "No right, that I know of. Jack, except that Mr. Martell owns some stock in the company that owns this building; but that would be a very far-fetched right at the best." "I guess those Martells are all tarred from the same stick," was Tom Rover's comment. "The father is just as overbearing as the son." "Do you know what I'm inclined to think?" remarked Sam Rover, as he walked over and closed the door to the outer office so that the clerks might not hear what was said. "I'm inclined to think that Nelson Martell is a good deal of a crook." "And that's just my idea of the man, too," added Tom Rover. "What do you think, Dick?" At this direct question the oldest of the three brothers pursed up his lips in concentrated thought. "To tell the truth, I don't know exactly what to think," he answered slowly. "Some of the things that Nelson Martell is trying to put through are certainly rather shady. Still, they may be within the strict letter of the law, and if that is so it would hardly be fair to call the man a crook." When Jack returned home, he, of course, told his cousins of his encounter at the entrance to the office building. "It's a pity you didn't have a chance to give Martell one in the eye or in the nose," was Randy's comment. "Such a brute deserves to be hauled down a peg or two." "Well, I rather think I gave his ear a pretty good twist," answered Jack, grinning. "You ought to have made him pick up that bundle he flung into the gutter," added Fred. "I couldn't do much of anything with the crowd gathering around. My! how the people do flock together when the least thing happens! If we had stayed there another minute or two, we might have had a thousand people around us." With so many things to be thought of and done previous to the departure for Colby Hall, the subject of Nappy Martell was soon dismissed. All the boys were wondering what they had better put in their trunks and suitcases. "Gee! I've got enough stuff planned out to fill five trunks," declared Randy. "I want to take all my clothing, and my fishing outfit, and my football and baseball togs, and my gym suit, and I'd like to take along my dumbbells, and my physical culture exerciser, and maybe a shotgun, and that favorite paddle of mine, and----" "And about five thousand other things," finished his twin. "I'm in the same boat. But we've simply got to cut down and take only the things that are actually necessary." "We won't need any baseball things during this term," declared Jack. "The Fall is the time for football--not baseball. And say! we don't want to forget our skates. There's a river up there and also a lake; so if the winter gets cold enough there ought to be some dandy skating." "Yes. And if the lake is large enough there ought to be a chance for some ice-boating," added Fred. At last, with the aid of their parents, the four boys got their trunks and suitcases packed. They were to leave home for Colby Hall on Wednesday morning, and on Tuesday evening their folks gave them a little send-off in the shape of a party given at Dick Rover's residence. At this gathering many of their boy friends were present, as well as a number of girls along with Mary and Martha. All of the young folks had an exceedingly pleasant time, which was kept up until midnight. "And now for Colby Hall!" exclaimed Jack, after the party had come to an end. "That's it," returned Fred. "Colby Hall and the best times ever!" "So say we all of us!" came from the twins. CHAPTER VI ON THE TRAIN "Ready?" "I've been ready for the last half hour." "So have I. Come on, if we're going to catch that train." "Yes, boys, you don't want to miss the train," came from Mrs. Dick Rover. She gazed at Jack fondly. "Oh, dear! how I hate to have you go!" "And how I do hate to see Fred leave!" sighed Mrs. Sam Rover. "And my twins!" murmured Tom's wife. "I suppose they'll be getting into all sorts of mischief at that boarding school." "Oh, Ma! we're going to be regular little lambs there," declared Andy. "Just you wait and see what fine records we send home," added his twin. "The automobiles are waiting, boys," broke in Dick Rover. "Come. The train is due to leave in twenty minutes, and you know how crowded traffic is around the Grand Central Terminal." There were hasty good-byes, a number of kisses and words of cheer, and then the four boys left their mothers and the girls and ran down to where two automobiles were standing at the curb. The twins and their father leaped into one, and Jack and Fred and their fathers into the other, and in a moment more the two machines were gliding down Riverside Drive on the way to the Grand Central Terminal at Forty-second Street. It was a perfect autumn day, and all four of the lads were in the best of spirits. To be sure, the fact that they were leaving home to be gone for several months sobered them a trifle; but all were eager to find out what was in store for them rather than to give thought to what had been left behind. As might have been expected, there was a perfect jam of automobiles and carriages in the vicinity of the Terminal, and as a consequence the lads had barely time to get aboard the train which was to carry them to Haven Point, the town on the outskirts of which Colby Hall was located. "Take care of yourselves!" cried Dick Rover. "Learn all you can," added his brother Sam. "And go slow on mischief," warned Tom. "We'll remember everything," came in a chorus from the four boys; and then, as they waved their hands to their parents, the long train pulled out of the big, gloomy station and the trip to the boarding school was begun. Haven Point was located in the heart of New England, so that the boys had a ride of several hours ahead of them. They had seats in a parlor car, two on one side and two on the other, and they proceeded without delay to make themselves comfortable, the porter aiding them in disposing of their handbaggage. "Good-bye to old New York!" cried Jack. "Won't we have a lot of things to talk about when we get back!" "I'm just crazy to see Colby Hall, to find out what it really looks like," said Andy. "That picture we had of it looked pretty good," was Fred's comment. "But, of course, you can't always tell by a picture." "Not much!" vouchsafed Randy. "A building may look all right enough in a picture and still be about ready to tumble down." The boys had left home in the middle of the forenoon, and expected to have their lunch on the train before reaching Haven Point. "When lunch time comes I'm going to fill up," declared Andy. "No telling what sort of grub we'll get at the Hall." "Father said they used to have first-class eats at Putnam Hall," declared Fred. "Not always!" cried Jack. "At one time, while Captain Putnam was away, the food got so bad there that the cadets rebelled and left the school." "Oh, that was before our fathers went to Putnam Hall," answered Randy. "I heard about that, too. But while our fathers were there, the food was very good, indeed." After about half an hour's ride the train halted at a station, and among the passengers to get aboard were two youths with suitcases. "Hello! what do you know about this?" cried Jack, surprised. "If there isn't Spouter Powell! I wonder what he is doing down here. He doesn't live in this town." "And look at the fellow who is with him!" burst out Fred. "Did you ever see such a fat chap in your life?" "Oh, say! I'll bet I know who that fellow is," declared Randy. "It must be Spouter's friend, Will Hendry. Spouter told me about him. They call him Fatty." "And he fits his name," declared Randy. "Here they come now. They must have seats in this car." Spouter Powell, a tall, thin youth with a mass of wavy, black hair overhanging his forehead, and wearing a small cap well back on his head, strode forward towards them. Behind him came the fat youth, struggling with a suitcase and puffing audibly. "Hello, you Rover boys!" sang out the son of Songbird Powell, cheerfully. "I thought you might be on this train." "Glad to see you, Spouter. How are you?" returned Jack, grasping his hand cordially. "Got a little friend with you, I see." "Exactly! My chum, Will Hendry. Fatty, these are the Rover boys. This is Jack, this is Fred, and these two little innocent lambs are the twins, Andy and Randy." "Glad to know you," came from all, and a general handshaking followed. It was found that the new arrivals had two seats at the other end of the parlor car; but there were other seats vacant near the Rover boys, and an exchange for these was quickly made through the Pullman conductor. "Say! they don't make you pay extra fare, do they?" queried Andy, as he looked at Fatty Hendry doing his best to squeeze into one of the chairs. "Not yet. But I don't know what I'm coming to," puffed the stout youth. "Seems to me I'm taking on about a pound a day," he added, dolefully. "Maybe you eat too much," suggested Randy, "Why don't you cut down on your victuals?" "Eat too much!" puffed Will Hendry. "I don't eat half as much as some of you slim fellows. Why, Spouter here eats twice as much as I do!" "Yes. But see the exercise I take," answered Dick Powell. "I walk at least five miles to your one. And I spend lots of time in the gym, too--something that you cut out entirely." "Well, what would I be doing in the gym?" demanded the fat youth. "If I got up on the rings or the bars, I'd pull the whole blamed business down to the ground," and at this remark there was a general snicker. Spouter Powell explained that he had been visiting Will Hendry, who lived in the town where the two had boarded the train. He had been at Colby Hall ever since its opening, and he had much to tell about the school and those who attended it. "Oh, I'm sure you'll like it," declared Spouter, growing eloquent. "It's so delightfully situated on a hill overlooking the river, and is surrounded by stately trees and a well-kept campus. The scene from the front is exceedingly picturesque, while to the back the woods stretch out for many miles. Soon, when the frost touches the leaves, the hues and colors will be magnificent. The sparkle of the sunlight glinting across the water----" "Wow! Spouter is off again!" puffed Fatty Hendry. "I told you to be careful," he pleaded. "I was only acquainting them with the beauties of Colby Hall," remonstrated Spouter. "When one comes to contemplate nature, it's necessary to understand what real harmony----" "Exactly, exactly! Just so!" burst out Andy. "We understand what you mean, Spouter. But please remember the scenery is there--it won't move--and we'll have lots of time to look at it." "Tell us about the boys who go there--and the teachers," broke in Randy. "Yes. The teachers especially," added Fred. "Is there any hard-hearted fellow--like that Josiah Crabtree our folks tell about?" "We've got one fellow there--Professor Asa Lemm--that nobody likes," answered Spouter. "He's a language teacher. They say he was once quite well off, and he constantly laments the loss of his wealth." "And being poor now, he tries to take it out on every pupil who comes under him," finished Fatty Hendry. "Oh, Asa is a lemon, believe me!" "Well, you know what lemons grow for," commented Andy, mischievously. "They are raised to be squeezed." "And maybe we'll have to squeeze Mr. Asa Lemm--the lemon," added his twin. "Then all the other profs are perfectly good fellows?" questioned Jack. "Oh, yes! Captain Dale, our military instructor, is one of the nicest men I ever met, and so are Professors Grawson and Brice. The others don't seem to cut much ice one way or the other." "Tell us something about the cadets." "Any bullies there?" queried Fred. "Yes; we've got one bully all right enough," answered Spouter. "Slogwell Brown is his name, but everybody calls him Slugger. He's from the country, but he thinks he knows it all and is very overbearing. You've got to keep your eye open for Slugger or you'll get into trouble sure." "Thanks. I suppose we'd better give Mr. Slugger Brown a wide berth," remarked Fred, dryly. "I don't think I'll let him ride over me," answered Jack, determinedly. "Then, there is Walter Baxter. He isn't a half bad sort, although he's pretty hot-tempered. He had a room directly opposite Ned Lowe, who plays the mandolin and is quite a singer. About sixty of the old scholars are coming back, and then there will be quite a bunch of new fellows--not less than twenty, I've been told." "Gif Garrison wrote to us and spoke about football," went on Jack. "I suppose they have some pretty good games up there?" "Sure. We always have our regular eleven and a scrub eleven, and, besides that, we have two or three games with rival schools. Gif was at the head of the football eleven last season, and I suppose he'll be at the head this year, although Slugger Brown would like that place." So the talk ran on, the Rover boys gaining quite a little information concerning the school to which they were bound. Then the porter came through the car announcing the first call for lunch. "Say! let's go and have something to eat," cried Will Hendry, struggling to his feet. "I thought you were going on a diet," remarked Andy, mischievously. "Sure. But I'm going to have something just the same," answered the fat boy. "Come on if you are going to the dining car. If you wait too long, you won't be able to get a seat." "My! I shouldn't think he'd want anything to eat for a month," whispered Fred to Spouter. "Don't you believe a word of what Fatty says about cutting down on his food," returned the other in a low voice. "He eats just as much as anyone. That's what makes him so fat." Possessed of the full appetites of growing boys, the Rovers were not loth to follow the fat youth and Spouter into the dining car, which, to their surprise, was almost full. "We'll have to have a table for four and another table for two," remarked Jack to the head waiter. "Do you think you can find that many places?" "Come this way," was the reply; and the party of six started for the other end of the dining car. They were about to take the seats assigned to them by the head waiter, when a very fussy man, accompanied by another man, pushed forward to crowd in at one of the vacant tables. "Say! that's pretty cheeky," declared Randy. "Now I don't know where we are going to sit." "I'll fix you up on the other side of the car," said the head waiter. The appearance of the boys had rather pleased him, while he did not like the actions of the fussy man and his companion at all. Spouter and his fat chum were behind the Rovers, so they did not see the face of the fussy individual who had deprived the lads of one of the seats. They sat down on the other side of the aisle, and the Rover boys spread themselves around as best they could. Fred and Jack had just sat down and Randy was doing likewise, when one of the waiters came through the swaying car carrying a tray filled with eatables. Suddenly the car gave an extra lurch, and Andy was thrown up against the waiter in such a manner that the tray tilted from the colored man's hand, and an instant later the contents of a large platter containing a broiled steak with some French-fried potatoes was deposited over the neck and shoulders of the fussy man in the seat near by. [Illustration: THE TRAY TILTED FROM THE COLORED MAN'S HAND. _Page_ 64] "Oh!" roared the man, starting up in great anger. "What do you mean by this? What do you mean, I say?" he shrilled. At the sound of this voice, Spouter Powell and Fatty Hendry looked up in sudden wonder. Then, as some of the Rover boys commenced to laugh over the mishap, Spouter clutched Jack by the arm. "That man is Professor Asa Lemm!" he whispered. CHAPTER VII A SCENE IN THE DINING CAR "You don't mean it!" gasped Jack. "The lemon of a professor we were just talking about?" "That's it!" "Then I'm afraid Andy has gotten himself into trouble right at the start." "It wasn't his fault. It was the lurching of the train did it," put in Fred. "Just the same, I'd hate to be in your cousin's shoes," was Fatty Hendry's comment. In the meanwhile the waiter, by a lightning-like move, had managed to save the broiled steak from slipping to the floor of the dining car. He now had it on the platter, but the French-fried potatoes were scattered in all directions. "What do you mean, I say?" repeated Professor Asa Lemm in a loud, harsh voice. "Scuse it, boss," answered the waiter humbly. "'Twas the swingin' o' de car what done it. Besides, one o' dem passengers knocked agin my arm." "I think it was that boy's fault quite as much as the waiter's," came from the man who was accompanying Professor Lemm. "I couldn't help it," answered Andy. "The car gave such a sudden lurch that I was almost thrown off my feet." "We'll fix this all up, sir," broke in the head waiter, coming to the front. "Take that steak back to the kitchen and bring some more potatoes," he added to the waiter. "I am glad to say it hasn't mussed you up very much;" and he handed the professor a fingerbowl full of water and an extra napkin. A number of passengers had witnessed the accident and were smiling broadly. Spouter and Fatty Hendry were also on a broad grin, but their faces took on a sudden sober look when they found Asa Lemm's gaze directed toward them. "Ha! so you are here," was the teacher's comment. "What business have you to laugh?" "Excuse me, Professor Lemm, I--I--didn't--er--mean anything," stammered Spouter. "Sorry it happened, very sorry," puffed Fatty. "Is this young man traveling with you?" demanded Asa Lemm, suddenly, as he looked from Spouter and Fatty to Andy. "Y--yes--sir," answered the son of Songbird Powell. "Hum! Is he bound for the Hall?" "Y--yes--sir." "Indeed? Then perhaps I'll see all of you later," muttered Asa Lemm; and after that did what he could with the aid of some water and a napkin to remove the traces of the accident from his person. In this he was aided by the head waiter, who was profuse in his apologies over what had occurred. "I'm afraid you've got yourself into a pickle, Andy," whispered his twin, when the latter had taken his seat at the table. "I don't care. I didn't mean to do it. It was an accident. Besides that, I think the waiter was as much to blame as I was." "You'll never make old Lemon believe that," returned Spouter. "Spouter's right about that," puffed out Fatty. "Once Asa Lemm gets down on a boy--good night!" "I wonder who the man with him is?" questioned Spouter. "Maybe it's a new teacher," vouchsafed Jack. "I don't think so," returned Randy. "I heard both of them talking about some lawsuit and about money matters. Maybe the other fellow is a lawyer." "I guess you're right," said Spouter. "As I told you before, old Lemon used to be worth a lot of money. Since he lost it he has been having one lawsuit after another trying to get some of it back. Most likely the other fellow is his lawyer." And in this surmise Spouter was correct. The accident had sobered all the boys, consequently the lunch was not near so lively as it might otherwise have been. Still the irrepressible Randy could not hold back altogether, and he got what little sport he could out of it by putting some red pepper on Fatty's last mouthful of pie. He used a liberal dose, and the pie had scarcely disappeared within the stout youth's mouth when the boy began to splutter. "Ug--ug--ugh!" came from Fatty as he made a wry face. "What pie! That last mouthful was like fire--full of pepper!" "I thought the pie was rather hot," answered Randy, coolly. "Hot! It's nothing but pep all the way through!" roared the fat boy. "Wow! let me have some water!" and he gulped this down so hastily that he almost strangled, the tears running down his cheeks. The other boys set up a laugh. The boys had had some celery served with their lunch and several stalks which were not particularly good still remained in the dish on the table. When the boys were ready to leave, Professor Asa Lemm and his companion were still at their table discussing the particulars of a coming lawsuit. "I'll give 'em something to remember us by anyhow," whispered Andy to the chums when the party had arisen to leave the dining car; and before any of the others could stop him he took up the stalks of celery and on passing Asa Lemm dropped them in the professor's side pocket, leaving the tops dangling outside. "Gee! but you're some funny boy," chuckled Fatty, gazing at Andy in admiration. "I wish I could think of things like that to do." "You'll think of 'em some day--when you get thin," returned Andy, encouragingly. "You see, I wanted to give him a bouquet to remember me by;" and at this remark there was a general snicker. Two or three of the passengers in the car had noticed Andy's action and all were smiling broadly over the incident. "If he ever finds out who did that, he'll be down on you worse than ever," declared Jack, when the boys were once more in the chair car. "Oh, well, what's the difference?" returned the light-hearted Andy. "I'd just as lief be shot for a mule as for a hoptoad." "I suppose he's going on to the Hall," remarked Spouter. "If he is, I hope he doesn't get into the auto-stage with us." "If he gets in the auto-stage, we might hire a jitney," suggested Fatty. "There are six of us, and we could get one of the jitneys to take us over to the Hall, baggage and all, for half a dollar." A little later the train made a stop of several minutes at quite a large city. The boys were tired of sitting still and were glad enough to go out on the platform to stretch their legs. Here they saw Professor Lemm and his friend leave the train and walk up the main street of the place. "Hurrah! we won't be bothered with him any more on this trip," declared Spouter. "Look!" cried Randy, suddenly, pointing to the two men; and as the boys gazed in that direction they were just in time to see Asa Lemm pull the stalks of celery from his pocket and throw them in the street. His whole manner showed that he was much disgusted. "And to think he has thrown away your beautiful bouquet, Andy," lamented Fred. "Never mind, Fred; we have to get used to keen disappointments in this life," groaned Andy. "Won't he be coming back?" questioned Fatty. "I don't think so--he won't have time," answered Jack; "here comes the conductor now." "All aboard!" shouted the conductor at that moment, and the boys had to hurry in order not to be left behind. Then the train pulled out of the station and the journey was continued. "We certainly ought to have some dandy times," said Jack to Spouter, as the train sped along. "I suppose your father has told you of all the good times our folks had when they went to Putnam Hall and Brill College." "Yes, Jack. That is, he has told me about a good many things. Of course I don't suppose he told me about some of the tricks they played." "Well, I've heard from father and from my Uncle Sam that my Uncle Tom was playing tricks almost continually." "Then Andy and Randy come by their fun-making naturally." "They sure do! And what do you suppose the folks at home expect me to do?" went on Jack, seriously. "They expect me to hold those twins in. Why! a fellow could no more do that than hold in a pair of wild horses. You've seen a little of what Andy can do. Well, his jokes aren't a patch to those Randy occasionally gets off." "You don't say! Well, I'm not sorry. The last term at Colby Hall was rather slow. Now maybe we'll have some life;" and Spouter's face lightened. While the boys had been at lunch the sky had darkened, and now the train rushed into a sudden heavy shower, the rain driving against the windows of the car in sheets. "I don't like this much," said Fred, dolefully. "Maybe we'll get out at Haven Point in a regular downpour." "Oh, this looks more like a local shower than anything else," answered Jack. "We may run out of it in a few minutes." "Some rain, all right," remarked Randy, as the water continued to dash against the windows. "Just look there!" cried Andy, pointing out. "Before it began to rain I noticed the automobiles on yonder road kicking up quite a dust. Now just look at the water and mud." "We'll be at Haven Point in twenty minutes--that is, if the train is on time," announced Spouter, consulting his watch. "Too bad! Because I wanted you to see the beautiful scenery with which the school is surrounded. Oh! the woods are perfectly beautiful, and after a heavy rain the torrent of water coming down the river makes the outlook one of marvelous beauty. I have stood there contemplating the scene----" "Turn it off, Spouter! turn it off!" broke in Fatty. "You promised me on your bare knees that you would stop spouting about nature this term--and here you start in the first thing!" "Oh, you haven't any more eye for beauty than a cow," retorted Spouter, ruefully. "Why abuse the cow?" questioned Andy, gaily. "A cow has an eye for beauty. Just you hold out a beautiful red apple to her and see if she hasn't;" and at this the others grinned. Haven Point was still five miles away when the boys saw that the rain was letting up; but the ditches along the track, and the highways wherever they passed them, were filled with running water, showing that the downpour in that vicinity had been a severe one. "Next station Haven Point!" called out one of the trainmen as he came through the car. "Better get your bags ready," cried Spouter. "There may be other fellows going to the Hall, and we want to get good seats on the auto-stage if we can." "All right. You lead on, Spouter," answered Jack; "we'll follow you." In a few minutes more Haven Point was reached and the long train rolled into the little station. One after another the boys alighted, the porter helping them with their suitcases and gladly accepting the tips they offered. Spouter headed for a large auto-stage drawn up on the opposite side of an open plot behind the station. As the Rovers and their friends started for the turnout belonging to Colby Hall, they noticed that several other boys had also left another coach of the train and were headed in the same direction. "New fellows, like ourselves, I suppose," remarked Fred. "Let's get ahead of 'em." "That's the talk!" exclaimed Randy. "Come on!" and he set off on a run beside Spouter with the others at their heels. The rain had been falling heavily at Haven Point just previous to the arrival of the train, and consequently the open place behind the depot contained numerous hollows of water and mud, around which the boys had to make their way as best they could. They were rushing along as fast as their handbaggage would permit, when they came up side by side with three other lads also bound for the stage. "Look out there!" cried Jack as one of the strangers leaped into a puddle of water, splashing the mud right and left. "Look out yourself!" cried the other youth, a big lad, much larger than any of the others. "That's Slugger Brown--the bully I was telling you about," explained Spouter as he continued to run. Directly behind Slugger Brown came another youth, loudly dressed in a checkered suit and a soft checkered hat to match. He was rather fastidious as to where he stepped, and with his eyes on the ground ran directly into Fred. "Hi! look where you are going!" cried the youngest of the Rover boys, and then, to keep himself from slipping down, made a clutch at Randy's arm. This brought Randy around, and both he and Fred bumped into the elegantly attired youth. "Stop that!" cried the stranger, and then, seeing a puddle directly in front of him, attempted to leap over it. But his foot slipped in the mud and down he went flat on his back with a loud splash. CHAPTER VIII AT COLBY HALL "My! look at that!" "Some tumble that, eh?" "Why! he sent some of that water and mud over me!" Such were some of the exclamations as the loudly-dressed youth went down in the puddle of water and mud. He was flat on his back, and it took several seconds for him to turn over and get to his feet. The fall had attracted the attention of everybody making for the auto-stage excepting Spouter and Jack. "Oh, my eye! you're certainly a sight to see," came from the biggest boy in the crowd, Slugger Brown. "It wasn't my fault that I fell," retorted the unfortunate one. "Those fellows bumped into me and made me lose my footing," and he pointed to Fred and Randy. "No such thing!" burst out Fred, indignantly. "You bumped into us first; and you only fell when you tried to jump across the puddle and your feet slipped." "I say it's your fault!" spluttered the boy who had gone down. His hands were covered with mud and water and he stood there helpless, filled with rage. "Take your handkerchief and wipe your hands off," advised Slugger Brown. He looked coldly at Fred and Randy. "If they tripped you up, they ought to have a licking for doing it." "That's the fellow who's responsible," answered the boy who had fallen, and he strode up to confront Fred. "For two pins I'd smash you on the nose," he continued, hotly. "You leave him alone!" broke in Randy, and doubled up his fists. The boy who had gone down had expected Fred to back away; but the youngest Rover bravely stood his ground. "Say! what's up back there?" queried Spouter, suddenly looking around to see why the other boys had not followed him to the auto-stage. "Looks to me as if somebody was going to get into a fight," returned Jack. "See! one of those fellows just made a pass at Fred. Come on, this won't do!" and he ran back towards the crowd that was gathering. The boy who had fallen had, indeed, made a pass with one of his dirty fists at Fred, but the latter had dodged the blow with ease and now he had the loudly dressed youth by the arm. "You behave yourself!" he said sharply. "I didn't knock you down, and you know it! I'm sorry you got yourself all dirty, but it wasn't my fault." "You fight him, and you'll fight me too!" broke in Randy. "If there is any blame in this it belongs to me as much as to my cousin." By this time Jack had reached the group and pushed his way to the front. As he caught sight of the face of the boy who had fallen, he gave a quick exclamation. "Well I never! Nappy Martell!" "Do you know this fellow?" questioned Andy, quickly. "I've met him before," was the reply. "He's Nappy Martell--the fellow I had trouble with in front of the office in Wall Street--the fellow who so mistreated that poor street peddler." "Oh! So this is the same chap, eh?" broke out Randy. "No wonder he wants to fight with Fred. He's a regular scrapper, in spite of his fine clothes." "What are you doing here?" asked Nappy Martell, curiously, as he looked at Jack. Then his gaze suddenly shifted to Fred and Randy. "Are you Rovers, too?" "We are," was the quick response. "Humph! No wonder you knocked me down. I suppose that fellow told you all about me?" and Nappy pointed to Jack. "What's the use of quarreling about a little thing like a tumble in the dirt?" panted Fatty, who was almost out of breath because of his run towards the auto-stage. "Come on! let's get to the Hall and see who is there." "I'm not anxious to fight," answered Fred, readily; "but I don't like this fellow's talk." "I'll talk as I please," blustered Martell. "And I'll fight, too, if I want to." "That's the talk, Nappy!" came from Slugger Brown. "Don't let any new boys lord it over you. If you want to fight, go ahead." "I owe these Rovers one," muttered the loudly dressed youth. "I had a run-in with this one in New York," and he pointed to Jack. "They are all of a kind--too fresh to live." "There is no use of your talking that way, Martell," broke in Jack. "We didn't come here to scrap, but everyone of us can take his own part if it is necessary." A perfect war of words followed, and the argument proved so hot that it looked as if there would certainly be a fight with Fred and Randy, and possibly some of the others, on one side, and Nappy Martell, Slugger Brown and one or two of their cronies who had come up on the other. But then came a sudden diversion as a heavily built and military looking man came from the main street of the town and walked towards them. "Cheese it, boys!" came from one of the lads present. "Here comes Captain Dale. He'll report us all if he knows there's anything like a fight going on." At the announcement that Captain Mapes Dale, who was the military instructor at Colby Hall, was approaching, the boys who had attended the academy the term previous fell back in alarm. They knew the captain to be a strict disciplinarian who abhorred fighting except in a military way. "Well, boys, are you going up to the Hall?" said the captain pleasantly, as he came closer. The old pupils present saluted him and were saluted in return. "Yes, sir," answered Spouter. And then before any of the others could speak he added: "Captain Dale, will you permit me to introduce some new scholars?" and thereupon he mentioned the Rover boys' names. "Glad to know you," said Captain Dale, and shook hands all around. In the meanwhile Nappy Martell had dropped somewhat in the background so that the military instructor might not notice the soiled condition of his clothing. Then one or two other new pupils were introduced, and the whole crowd made for the auto-stage. The stage was a large affair, and Slugger Brown, Nappy Martell and some of their friends kept to the front end, leaving the Rovers and their friends together at the rear, the captain and a professor connected with the Hall seating themselves between the two factions. "This row is only stopped for the time being," whispered Randy to Jack. "I think that fellow Martell is too ugly to let it drop." "He's rather a big fellow to tackle Fred," returned Jack. "Why, he is even bigger than I am!" "That's the way with most bullies," put in Fatty. "They don't feel like tackling a fellow of their size. They like to pick out little chaps." "Oh, don't misunderstand me," returned the oldest of the Rover boys. "Fred may be small, but he is very strong and wiry, and he knows how to take care of himself. But I shouldn't like to see any out and out fighting--at least not so soon. We don't want to get a black eye before we get settled down." "That's the talk!" came from Andy. "I'd rather have some fun than have any fighting. I hope we'll find the other fellows at the Hall more pleasant than this Martell and that great big Slugger Brown." "It's queer you didn't mention Martell to us on the train," remarked Fred. "I thought he had left school," answered Spouter. "You see, he went home before the term closed last Spring, and I didn't know that he was coming back." "He and Brown seem to be pretty thick," was Randy's comment. "Yes; they were always together last term, they and a fellow named Henry Stowell. Stowell is a regular little sneak, and most of the boys call him Codfish on account of the awfully broad mouth he's got." "Well, there's one thing sure," remarked Jack; "we'll all have to keep our eyes open for Martell, Brown and Company." While on the train the Rover boys had learned that Haven Point was a clean and compactly built town containing about two thousand inhabitants. It was located at the head of Clearwater Lake, a beautiful sheet of water about two miles long and half a mile wide and containing a number of picturesque islands. At the head of the lake was the Rick Rack River, running down from the hills and woods beyond. Up in the hills it was a wild and rocky watercourse containing a number of dangerous rapids, but where it passed Colby Hall it was a broad and fairly deep stream, joining the lake at a point where there were two rocky islands. The distance from the railroad station to the Military Academy was a little over half a mile, along a road branching off through the main street into a country highway bordered on one side by the river and on the other by a number of well-kept farms, with here and there a small patch of timber. "There's the Hall!" exclaimed Spouter presently, after the auto-stage made a turn through a number of trees and came out on a broad highway running in a semi-circle around a large campus. "What do you think of the place? Looks rather fine, doesn't it?" All of the Rover boys gazed eagerly at what was before them. They saw a large stone building, shaped almost in the form of a cross, the upper portion facing the river. It was three stories in height and contained not only the classrooms and mess hall of the institution, but also the dormitories for the boys. To one side was a small brick building which at one time had evidently been a private dwelling. This was now occupied by Colonel Colby and his family and the various professors. On the opposite side was a long, low, wooden building. "That's our gym," explained Fatty. "You can go in there any time you want to, do a turn on the bars, and break your neck." Down at the water's edge were several small buildings which, Spouter explained, were used for storing the boats belonging to the Hall and also as bathhouses. Behind the Hall were a stable and a barn, and also a garage. And still farther back were a vegetable garden and some farm fields, for Colonel Colby believed in raising as much stuff for the Hall table as possible. "That's the Rick Rack River," explained Spouter, as they passed the stream. "We've some dandy times there swimming and boating." "Don't you have skating in the winter?" queried Andy. "Sure! And we have some great races, too." In another moment the auto-stage drew up to the front door of Colby Hall, and one after another the boys and Captain Dale and the other teacher alighted. "You new pupils may as well follow me right to the office," said the captain. "You can leave your suitcases in the hallway until you have been assigned to your rooms." He led the way, and they followed through a large reception room and into an elegantly appointed office where Colonel Colby sat at a mahogany desk, writing. "Some new pupils, Colonel Colby," announced the captain, and at once the colonel arose. "So you are the Rover boys, eh?" he said, his face lighting up with pleasure. "I am certainly very glad to meet you. Of course you know that your fathers and myself were schoolmates for many years?" "Yes, Colonel Colby, we know that," replied Jack. "That is one reason why they sent us here." "So I understand. I am proud to know that my old friends think so much of me," and the master of Colby Hall smiled broadly. "I am sure we are going to get along famously." "It certainly looks like a nice school," remarked Andy, frankly. "I like it first rate." "And so do I," added his twin. "We hope to have some great times here," came from Fred. Then one after another the boys were required to sign the register and answer a number of questions regarding their age and previous instruction, and the state of their health. "I'll have Professor Brice assign you to your rooms," said Colonel Colby, after the questioning had come to an end. "He has charge of that matter so far as it concerns the older boys. The younger boys are under the charge of Mrs. Crews, the matron." The master of the Hall touched a bell, and when a servant appeared requested that Professor Brice be summoned. The latter soon appeared, a young man evidently just from college. He was introduced to the boys, and then took them off to assign them their rooms. "Hadn't we better get our suitcases?" suggested Jack. "Yes; you might as well bring them along," answered Professor Paul Brice. "That will save another trip downstairs. You can give your trunk checks to me, and I will see that the trunks are brought up from the station and placed in your rooms to be unpacked. After you've unpacked them, they will be marked with your names and placed in the trunk room." It took the boys but a minute to reach the end of the hallway where their suitcases had been left. Those of the twins were still there, and also that belonging to Jack; but Fred's was missing. "Hello! what's become of my suitcase?" questioned the youngest Rover, anxiously. "Maybe somebody carried it upstairs for you," suggested Jack. All looked around the hallway and in the nearby rooms, but the suitcase could not be found. "Well, I don't think you need to worry," said Professor Brice lightly. "There is no danger of thieves around here. Probably some boy picked up the suitcase by mistake." "Maybe," returned Fred; but then he looked at his cousins and shook his head slowly. "I guess you suspect Nappy Martell and his cronies," whispered Randy on the way upstairs. "I do!" answered Fred. "I think they took that suitcase to play a trick on me." CHAPTER IX THE MISSING SUITCASE In the letters sent to Colby Hall the Rover boys had requested that they be placed in rooms close to those occupied by Spouter Powell, Gif Garrison and their chums, and Colonel Colby had replied that he would do what he could for them in the matter, although many of the choicest rooms at the Hall had already been assigned to the old cadets. "I can give you a choice of several rooms," said Professor Brice, as he led the way to the second floor of the school. "Come this way, please." He took them down a long corridor and into a wing of the building. "This is our hallway," whispered Spouter to Jack. "I guess you'll get pretty close to Gif and me after all." Spouter and Gif had rooms numbered 19 and 21. Across the hall, Fatty had number 16. 18, 20 and 22 were as yet unassigned. "I can give you these three rooms," announced Paul Brice. "But what about the fourth?" queried Jack. "There are four of us, you see, and all these are single rooms." "For a fourth room you might take the one next to that occupied by Powell on the other side of the hallway," answered the teacher. "That might do," returned Fred. "But we would prefer to be together--especially as these rooms all connect." "I think I can help you out if you want me to," came from Fatty, good-naturedly. "If Professor Brice is willing, I'll move over to number twenty-three, and that will give you four fellows numbers sixteen, eighteen, twenty, and twenty-two." "Oh, we don't want to disturb you, although it's very kind of you to make the offer," remonstrated Jack. "That's all right," answered Fatty. "I'd just as lief be next to Spouter. The room is just as good, and I know you four cousins would like to keep together." And so, after a little more talk, the matter was arranged. "Now the question is: How are we going to assign these rooms?" came from Randy. "I've got an idea," returned his twin. "All right; out with it!" came from Fred. "I'd like to get settled so that I can make another hunt for my missing suitcase." "Why not live here just as we live on Riverside Drive?" answered Andy. "Jack can take one of the middle rooms, with Fred on one side of him and Randy and myself on the other." "You've solved it, Andy!" exclaimed Jack, and so without further ado the matter was settled. "Now I'll institute a hunt for that missing suitcase," said Professor Brice after he had made a note of the room assignments. "Most likely some boy picked it up by mistake." "If he did that, why didn't he leave his own suitcase behind?" queried Fred. "I'll look it up. Don't worry," said the professor, and then hurried away, for there were many other matters demanding his attention. The boys found the rooms small but pleasant. Each contained a single bed, a desk, and a chiffonier, and also a small clothing closet. In one corner was a bowl with running water, and each room contained two electric lights. All of the rooms had connecting doors, but these, for the most part, were kept closed, some of the pupils having their beds or chiffoniers in front of them. "You see, you are permitted to arrange your room to suit yourselves," explained Spouter, "so some of the boys have them one way and some another. Some of the boys are even permitted to double up--that is, put two of the beds in one room and use the other room exclusively for dressing and studying." "That's an idea," answered Randy. "Maybe Andy and I will do that." This plan was followed out by the twins, who used the last room of the four for a sleeping apartment and made of the other room a sort of general meeting place for all of the Rovers. "Where does that Nappy Martell hold forth?" questioned Fred of Fatty, while he was helping the stout youth transfer his belongings across the hallway. "He and Slugger Brown and Codfish and that gang are all around the corner, on the main corridor," was the reply. "That is, Nappy was there last season. I don't know whether somebody else used his room after he left or not." "It was room sixty," put in Spouter. "Slugger has sixty-two. I don't believe anyone went into sixty after Nappy left. You see, it was almost the end of the term and all the cadets were settled." "I'm going to take a look around," answered Fred. "I can't do anything here anyway, with no suitcase and no trunk." "I guess I'd better go with you," came from Jack. He did not wish to allow his cousin to interview the big, over-dressed youth alone. Leaving the others to settle down in the rooms as best they could, Fred and Jack hurried through the hallway to the main corridor of the second floor of the Hall. Old cadets and new pupils were coming and going in all directions, and many were the glances of curiosity directed towards the Rovers. "Gee! some of those fellows certainly look nifty in their uniforms," was Fred's comment. "They look like the uniforms our folks brought home from Putnam Hall," answered Jack. "My father's old uniform is up in our storeroom now. I tried it on one day just for fun. They tell me they are patterned after the uniforms worn at West Point." "There goes an officer," whispered Fred, as a tall youth went by with a sword dangling from his belt. "Look at the gold braid, will you? Isn't it swell?" he added, in deep admiration. "I can see your finish, Fred," laughed his cousin. "If you stay here, you'll want to be an officer with a sword, and with lots of gold lace." "I don't know about that," answered the youngest Rover, seriously. "I guess all the officers have to be big boys." "Nonsense! Size has nothing to do with it. Why, some of the greatest military men in the world have been very small. Look at Napoleon, for instance." "Well, I'll see about that later, Jack. Just now I'd rather get on the track of that suitcase." It did not take the two Rovers long to reach that part of the corridor where was located the room formerly occupied by Nappy Martell. The door was open several inches, and Fred and Jack saw that three boys were present--Nappy, Slugger, and a small, round-faced youth with a particularly broad mouth. "That little chap must be the sneak Spouter mentioned--the boy they call Codfish," whispered Jack. "That was a good joke all right, Nappy," piped out the small cadet, as the Rovers came closer. "A fine joke all right all right!" "You keep your mouth shut about it, Codfish," retorted Nappy Martell, quickly. "Oh, I won't say a word, believe me!" returned the other quickly. Just then Slugger Brown peered out into the hallway and saw the two Rover boys. He looked somewhat startled, and immediately placed his hand over Nappy Martell's mouth. "I want to see you, Martell," cried Fred without hesitation. "I want to know what you did with my suitcase." "I don't know anything about your suitcase," growled the loudly dressed youth in surly tones. "Yes, you do! You took it; and I want you to return it," answered Fred, boldly. "See here! do you want a licking?" burst out the New York boy, as he doubled up his fists. "You deserve one for the way you tripped me up in that mud puddle. You say another word, and I'll give you what's coming to you," and his manner was very threatening. "No use of fighting here, Nappy," remonstrated Slugger Brown. "Keep it until some time when you can meet him outside." "I didn't come here to fight," answered Fred. "But I want my suitcase." "I don't know anything about your suitcase. Who says I took it?" added Nappy Martell with sudden suspicion. "I say you took it. There wouldn't be anyone else here to play such a trick on me. Now, you must hand it over!" "You go on about your business!" roared the New York boy; and as Fred, followed by Jack, attempted to enter the room, he slammed the door in their faces and shot the bolt into place. Fred was thoroughly angry, and if it had not been for his cousin he would have tried then and there to batter the door down. But Jack caught him by the arm and pulled him back. "No use of creating a disturbance so soon," said Jack. "We'd only get into hot water, and maybe Colonel Colby would become so disgusted he would send us right home. If Martell took that suitcase, he won't dare to keep it, for that would be stealing. More than likely he'll sneak it back to you by to-morrow." "He ought to have his head knocked off of him," muttered the youngest Rover. "Jack, I feel in my bones that that fellow is going to cause us a lot of trouble." "I shouldn't wonder," was the answer. "Remember, Fred; he is as angry at me for the row we had down in Wall Street as he is at you over that mud-puddle affair." "Oh, dear! And I thought everything was going to be lovely when we got here," sighed Fred. There seemed nothing else to do, and so the two boys returned to where they had left the others. A little while later their trunks came in, and all spent an hour or more in unpacking these and stowing away the various articles brought along. "You'll be measured for your uniforms to-morrow," announced Spouter. "And then, if the school has the right sizes on hand, you'll get them at once. Otherwise, they'll be made to order and you'll have to wait at least ten days for them." "Oh, I hope they've got my size in stock!" cried Andy. "I'd like to see how it feels being a cadet." "Don't worry," answered his twin. "I guess we'll get enough of that before we leave Colby Hall. Remember, you've got to learn how to drill, and march, and shoot at a target, and all that." "I think it'll be lots of fun," broke in Jack. "My father told me he liked that part of the life at Putnam Hall very much." "We're pretty well filled up here, it seems to me," came from Fred, as he sat on his empty trunk surveying his surroundings. "The men will come to take the trunks away in a little while," answered Fatty; and this proved to be so. With the trunks gone the boys had more room in which to move about, for which they were thankful. "How about supper?" questioned Andy, presently, as a bell rang out sharply. "We have supper at six o'clock sharp," returned Fatty, quickly. "Last year we were at a table with Professor Grawson," put in Spouter. "He's a pretty nice man. I hope I get at his table again." "Excuse me from getting at a table with a man like Professor Lemm," burst out Andy. "Gee! what will I do if they put me with him?" he continued dolefully. "Well, you'll have to sit wherever you are placed," answered Spouter. "And what do you care so long as you get enough to eat?" questioned Fatty. But Andy shook his head. He thought if he were placed at the same table with Professor Asa Lemm, it would be an actual hardship. CHAPTER X GETTING ACQUAINTED "I don't see him anywhere," remarked Andy, as he and his cousins approached the mess hall of the school. The cadets were entering in little groups of twos and threes, for as yet the regular term at Colby Hall had not begun. With the real opening of the school, the cadets would have a dress parade previous to dining and would then stack their arms outside and march in in regular order. "Who are you talking about?" questioned Fred. "Professor Asa Lemm. I don't see him at any of the tables." "Maybe he didn't come to the Hall to-night. He might have had quite some business to transact with that man who left the train with him." As there were more tables than professors, some of the boards were presided over by the senior cadets. There was a little confusion, due to the entrance of so many new pupils, and then the Rovers were assigned to a table presided over by a senior named Ralph Mason, who was the major of the school battalion. "I am glad to meet you," said Major Mason, as he shook hands cordially. "I hope you will make yourselves at home," and he smiled in a manner that won the confidence of all the boys at once. The meal was a good, substantial one--for Colonel Colby believed in setting a homelike table--and soon the clatter of knives and forks and the rattle of dishes filled the air. Most of the boys had come in from long journeys and were, consequently, hungry, so but little was said while the meal progressed. Spouter and Fatty and several other boys they had met sat at a table next to that occupied by the Rovers, but Nappy Martell and his cronies were on the opposite side of the mess hall, for which our friends were thankful. "I think if I had to look at the face of Codfish while I was eating, it would spoil my appetite," was Andy's comment during the meal. "They ought to photograph his mouth and put it in the comic supplements." "Yes. Or else they ought to get him to act in some of the funny movies," returned his twin. As soon as the repast was at an end, Fred sought out Professor Brice and asked him if anything had been learned concerning the missing suitcase. "I am sorry to say I haven't learned anything," answered the professor, a troubled look coming over his face. "I really must say, Rover, I don't know what to make of it. Do you suspect anyone in particular of having taken it?" Fred was on the point of mentioning Nappy Martell's name, but suddenly held himself in check. "I wouldn't like to say anything about that, Professor," he answered slowly. "I might be accusing a fellow cadet unfairly. If the suitcase isn't returned by to-morrow I may have something to say about it." "Very well. I think I understand how you feel about it," and the young professor looked knowingly at the boy. "Did you have much in the suitcase?" "Yes, sir. It was well packed. You see, I wasn't sure whether my trunk would come right along, so I carried all I could in my handbaggage." When Fred joined the others, all of the crowd, led by Spouter, walked down to the gymnasium. Here the Rovers were introduced to a number of other pupils, including Ned Lowe, who was quite a mandolin player and also a good singer, and a tall, studious youth named Dan Soppinger. "Ned is our great singer," announced Spouter. "We expect some day that he'll be singing in grand opera on the Metropolitan stage." "Did you say grand opera or grand uproar?" questioned Andy, slyly. "Opera, my boy! Opera!" repeated Spouter. "I expect some day that he will thrill great audiences with exquisite renderings of the famous solos by Wagner, Beethoven, Mozart, Donizetti----" "Great mackerel, Spouter! what are you giving us--a musical directory?" interrupted Randy. "No. I was only giving you a list of the things I expect to hear Ned sing sooner or later. Now, as for Dan here--he is the human encyclopedia." "If there is anything you don't want to know, ask Dan and he'll be sure to tell you all about it," put in Fatty with a grin. "How about it, Dan?" "Say! that's a fine way to introduce a fellow," cried Dan Soppinger, with a doubtful grin on his studious face. "Of course, I'm trying to learn as much as possible, but there are a whole lot of things that I don't know, and I'm not ashamed to acknowledge it. But say! by the way, can any of you tell me what the date was when Jefferson was inaugurated president?" At this question there came a sudden groan, not only from Fatty, but also from Spouter and Ned Lowe. Then with one voice the three shouted: "Down with him! He's at it again!" "I don't believe any of you know the date," retorted Dan Soppinger. "If you did, you'd tell me. I am writing an article about the presidents, and I've got to put that in. And then, here's another thing. Can any of you tell me who crossed the Pacific Ocean to----" But whatever the question was, it was never finished, for at that moment Spouter, Fatty, Ned and several others piled on Dan Soppinger and brought him to the gymnasium floor. "Hi! You let up!" cried the victim, squirming from under the others as best he could. "Can't a fellow ask a question or two without you starting such a rough-house as this?" "No questions to be asked, Dan, until the regular school term begins," answered Spouter. "Then all you've got to do is to go to the Rover boys----" "Not much!" came simultaneously from Andy and Randy. "Do you take us for a school library?" questioned Fred, gaily. "I'll answer all the easy ones, Dan," said Jack, good-naturedly. "The hard ones I'll turn over to Spouter. If the question is a real sensible one, he'll give you a nice little answer--one about twelve hundred words long." "Hurrah! Spouter is discovered at last!" cried Fatty. "Twelve hundred words long just fits it--that is, if Spouter is in a hurry to cut it short." The Rover boys were much interested in what was taking place in the gymnasium, and they even tried out some of the bars and swinging rings, as well as one of the exercising machines. "This is certainly an up-to-date institution," remarked Jack. "This gym couldn't be better." "How about the boats?" questioned Randy. He and his brother had owned a rowboat on the Hudson River, and had often gone out in the craft. "Oh, we've got half a dozen good rowboats, as well as several racing shells," answered Spouter. "You'll probably get a chance to look them over later." While the Rover boys were taking in the sights to be seen in and around the gymnasium, their attention was attracted to a tall, well-formed cadet who was doing some clever work on one of the bars. "He's doing that almost as well as a circus performer," was Fred's comment. "Yes; he's certainly very graceful," returned Jack. "I wonder who he is." "That is Walt Baxter," announced a cadet who had heard the talk. "Walt Baxter!" exclaimed Randy. "I wonder if he can be the son of Dan Baxter, the man who made so much trouble for our fathers while at Putnam Hall." "I'll soon find out," returned Jack. "But please remember--Dan Baxter reformed, and more than likely his son is a first-rate fellow." As soon as Walter Baxter had gotten through with his exercise and had dropped to the floor, Jack, followed by his cousins, went up to him. "Are you Walt Baxter--the son of Mr. Daniel Baxter?" he questioned. "Yes," returned the other, and looked at Jack and the others with him curiously. "I am Jack Rover--the son of Mr. Richard Rover. These are my cousins," and Jack introduced them. "Oh! is that so?" answered Walt Baxter, and shook hands rather doubtfully. "I--I--am glad to know you," he stammered. "And we are real glad to know you, Baxter," answered Randy, readily. "We heard you were at this school. We hope that we'll all be good friends." "If we are not, it won't be my fault," and now there was a ring of relief in Walter Baxter's voice. He lowered his tone a trifle. "I know your fathers did a lot for my father, and I am very thankful for it. If I can do anything for you fellows here, I'll certainly do it." "And we'll do what we can for you, Baxter," answered Jack, quickly. After that the talk became general, and Walt Baxter told much about himself and the doings of the cadets at Colby Hall. When Nappy Martell's name was mentioned, he drew down the corners of his mouth. "I never had any use for that chap," he declared. "Once or twice my hot temper got the better of me and we came pretty near having a fight. But after that Martell gave me a wide berth." "I think I've got Martell to thank for something that is missing," said Fred, and thereupon related the particulars regarding the lost suitcase. "Say! I think I know something about that!" cried Walter Baxter, quickly. "Yes, I'm sure I do!" "Did you see Martell take the suitcase?" demanded the youngest Rover, quickly. "I can't say as to that, exactly. But I did see Martell sneaking off through the backyard, past the stable, with something under his arm--a big package wrapped up in a couple of newspapers." "When was this?" questioned Jack, quickly. "About four o'clock this afternoon." "Just after we arrived at the Hall!" burst out Randy. "What did he do with what package?" asked Jack. "I don't know exactly, excepting that he went down past the stable on to the roadway that leads to the farm fields." "Maybe he took the suitcase and threw it down in one of the fields," ventured Andy. "You didn't see him come back?" asked Fred. "Yes, come to think of it, I did--about a quarter of an hour after that," answered Walt Baxter. "And did he have the package then?" "No." "Then I'll wager it was the suitcase and he left it somewhere down on the farm!" cried Randy. "Let us go and take a look. We are permitted to go out in the farm fields, aren't we?" he asked of Walt. "Oh, yes. You can go anywhere you please during off hours so long as you don't go out of bounds," was the reply. "If you want to go out of bounds, you have to report at the office and get permission." The matter was talked over for a few minutes more, and Walt Baxter said he would gladly go along with the Rovers to show them just where he had seen Nappy Martell with the bundle. The five boys were soon in the neighborhood of the Hall stable, and then they passed beyond this to a roadway which ran between the fields attached to the school farm. "It's a pity it's so dark," declared Jack. "I doubt if we'll be able to locate that suitcase even if we get quite close to it." "I'll tell you what I'll do," declared Randy. "I'll run back to my room and get my pocket flashlight. That will be just the thing." It took him but a few minutes to obtain the article he had mentioned, and with the flashlight to guide them, the five boys started along the roadway behind the school. The light was flashed first on one side and then on the other. "Looks like a wild goose chase," declared Andy, after they had passed two farm fields. "I don't think he would come this far with that heavy suitcase." "Here is a cornfield full of stacks," said Walt Baxter. "The stacks would afford a dandy hiding place for almost anything." They approached the first of the stacks, and Fred kicked some of the corn stalks aside, but without result. Then they passed on to the next stack. "Hello! here is something!" exclaimed Jack, as the rays of the flashlight fell upon the object. "Fred, I guess we've found it all right enough." "So we have!" cried the youngest Rover; and in a moment more he thrust his hand in between the cornstalks and pulled out the missing suitcase. CHAPTER XI DOWN IN THE CORNFIELD The other boys gathered around in curiosity as Fred brought forth from the stack of cornstalks his missing suitcase. Beside the bag were several newspapers crumpled up into a wad. "Those must be the newspapers he had the suitcase wrapped in," remarked Walt Baxter. "More than likely," answered Jack. He picked up the wad of papers and glanced at them. "New York newspapers, too," he cried. "Nappy must have brought them with him from home." "Was the suitcase locked, Fred?" questioned Randy. "No. I didn't bother to lock it, because, you see, I had it with me. I only lock a suitcase when I check it." "Then you'd better take a look inside and see if your duds are all right," advised Andy. The youngest Rover quickly unstrapped the suitcase and threw back the catch. Then, as Randy sent the rays of the flashlight into the bag, he, as well as the others, uttered various exclamations. "The mean fellow!" "Fred, you ought to get after him for this!" For a quick look inside the suitcase had revealed the fact that Nappy Martell had opened the bag and thrown handfuls of dirt amid the pieces of clothing and the various other articles Fred had packed therein. "You'll have to have all that laundered stuff done over again before you can wear it," declared Jack. "And you'll have to have those neckties cleaned, too, I am afraid. Say! this is a shame!" "Just wait! I think I'll be able to get square with Nappy Martell," muttered the youngest Rover. "He ought to be reported for this," broke in Walt Baxter. "This isn't a joke. It's a low-down, dirty trick." At this remark all of the other Rover boys looked at Fred, and he looked at his cousins in return. "I don't know about reporting this," he answered slowly. "I rather think I prefer to settle with Martell myself." "That's the talk!" cried Andy. "If you reported this, some of the fellows might put you down for a softy and a sneak. I'd rather watch my chance and give Martell as good as he sent." "And with interest," added his twin. "If you fellows are anything like your fathers were before you, I reckon you'll know how to get square with Nappy," remarked Walt Baxter. "I've heard that the Rovers never took a back seat for anybody." "I'll figure out what I'm going to do after I get settled here," returned Fred. He suddenly began to smile. "Say! things have been happening since we left home, haven't they?" "I should say yes!" answered Andy. With Jack assisting his cousin in carrying the suitcase, the whole crowd returned to Colby Hall, and here the Rovers started to separate from Walt Baxter, first requesting him to remain silent regarding the finding of the handbaggage. "If we don't say a word about it, maybe Nappy will get worried," said Fred; "and that is what I want him to do." "He may go down to the cornfield to see if the bag is still there." "Hold on!" burst out Randy, suddenly. "I've got an idea!" and then in a few words he explained what had occurred to him. The others listened with interest, and even Walt Baxter had to laugh outright over what he proposed. "I'll do it!" declared the son of Dan Baxter, readily. "I'll do it the first chance I get. And, believe me, I'll fix it so Nappy Martell gets into hot water!" "I'd like to see what effect the story has on Martell," said Andy, grinning broadly. "Can't you fix it so we can be around at the time?" "Sure! When I get the chance, I'll drop you a hint." "And now I must get this bag to my room without anyone seeing me," said Fred. "Better let Spouter or Fatty carry it up," advised Jack. "Then, if Martell sees it, he won't know that it is your suitcase." It was an easy matter to get Spouter to do what was required, although he insisted upon knowing what was in the wind. When he was told, he, too, laughed heartily. "It will serve Martell right," he said. "I hope it worries him to death." As soon as the suitcase was safe in Fred's room, he sought out Professor Brice, who was busy arranging the order of some classes. "I wish to report that I've got my suitcase back, Professor," said the youth. "Ah, indeed!" was the teacher's reply, and his face showed his relief. "I'm glad to know it. Did you--er--have any trouble?" "Nothing that I care to mention--at least at this time," answered Fred. "If you don't mind, Professor, we'll drop the matter." "Oh, very well, Rover. Just as you please." The young professor looked at Fred rather knowingly. "Of course, if there is anything wrong, you can report it later," he added hesitatingly. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," answered the youth, and then bowed himself out of the office. In the hallway he was joined by Andy. "Did he make you squeal?" questioned the cousin quickly. "Not much!" was the reply. "He's a good sport. I guess he's been through the mill himself." Fred spent some time over the contents of the suitcase, brushing the dirt from some of the articles and sorting the rest out to be cleaned or laundered. "It's going to cost two or three dollars to fix this up," he declared to Randy. "I really ought to send the bill to Martell." "Well, just wait first and see if we get any fun out of this," answered the joke-loving cousin. As was to be expected, there was far from a full night's sleep coming to the Rover boys that night. The quarters were strange to them, and there was more or less noise throughout the school building, a bunch of scholars coming in on a late train and not getting settled down until after midnight. There was also something of horseplay, although the majority of the cadets were too tired from their journeys to be very active. "I suppose we'll have to stand some hazing and all that sort of thing later on," remarked Jack before retiring. About one o'clock the school seemed to settle down, and then one after another the Rover boys fell asleep, not to awaken until the autumn sun was showing well above the hills beyond Clearwater Lake. "This certainly is a splendid location," remarked Jack, as he went to the open window, stretched himself, and filled his lungs with the fresh morning air. "I don't wonder Colonel Colby picked this place out for a school," answered Andy, who had come in. "He couldn't have done better." Not being accustomed to their surroundings, it took the Rovers a little longer than usual to get washed and dressed. They were just finishing their toilets when there came a light knock on Randy's door. He opened it to find Walt Baxter standing there. "Nappy Martell just went downstairs, and I've fixed that matter up with Ned Lowe," said Walt. "Come on down if you want to see what takes place." He led the way, and all of the Rover boys followed at a safe distance. They saw Walt enter one of the big living-rooms of the Hall, to one end of which was attached the school library. Nappy Martell was at one of the library tables glancing carelessly over a magazine. In the living-room Walt was joined by Ned Lowe, and the pair walked up behind Nappy. "Why, yes, it was the strangest thing I ever saw," said Walt to Ned in a loud voice so that Nappy Martell could not help but hear. "The fellow seemed to come from a stack of cornstalks down in the cornfield." "It wasn't one of the cadets, was it?" questioned Ned, innocently. "Oh, no. I think this fellow was some kind of a tramp--maybe some fellow who had been sleeping under the stack all night. But what he was doing with such a fine suitcase gets me." "That's right. Tramps don't generally have suitcases," returned the other boy. "Did he come toward the school?" "No. He dug out the other way just as fast as he could go." "Poor fellow! maybe he was afraid if he came towards the school he would be arrested. If he had a suitcase he couldn't have been just an ordinary tramp. Maybe he was some working man looking for a job and without the price of a night's lodging." "Perhaps, Ned. At the same time, I don't think Colonel Colby wants his cornstalks used for a hotel," returned Walt; and then he and Ned walked through the library and went outside on the campus. During this conversation the Rover boys, hidden behind some open doors, had watched Nappy Martell closely. They had seen that he had caught what was being said and had immediately lost all interest in the magazine he was perusing. His face took on a worried look, and he glanced inquiringly after Walt and Ned. Then he threw down his magazine and started to leave the room. "Come on, let us watch him," whispered Jack. "Yes. But keep out of his sight," returned Randy. "We don't want this joke spoiled." Keeping well in the background, they saw Nappy Martell ascend the stairs to his room. A moment later he came forth with his hat in his hand. "I bet an oyster against a soda cracker he's going down to that cornfield!" cried Andy. "Right you are!" answered Fred. "Come on, let's follow him;" and rushing up to their own rooms the Rover boys donned their caps and sweaters, for the day was unusually cool. Nappy Martell left the Hall by a rear door, and the Rovers followed. They saw the loudly dressed youth hurry toward the stable and then disappear to the rear. Soon he was on the highway leading to the cornfield. "There is no use of our following him, for he might see us and that would spoil everything," said Randy. "Let's wait here at the stable until he comes back." It did not take Nappy Martell long to reach the cornfield; and from a distance the Rovers saw him rush around, first to one stack of cornstalks and then to another. He was gone fully a quarter of an hour, and came back looking decidedly worried. "He thinks some tramp got that suitcase and went off with it," said Fred, grinning. "Randy, that certainly was one great joke." "Don't say a word," answered Randy. "Just let him keep on worrying for a while. Maybe it will do him good." As Martell passed the stable, the Rover boys stepped out of sight in the building. They saw him re-enter the Hall, and then they took a roundabout course which soon brought them to the campus, where they joined Fatty and Ned. "It's certainly a good joke," was Fatty's comment. "And any fellow who would be mean enough to dirty a fellow's clothing like that ought to suffer for it. Gee! I'll bet he's worried!" Of course, such a joke could not be kept entirely secret, and before long it was spread among a good many of the cadets. But great care was taken to keep it from Slugger Brown, Codfish and all the others belonging to the Martell crowd. "And now to pay Martell back for his meanness!" said Fred a little later. "This joke of Randy's is all right as far as it goes, but I think I'm going to go him one better--that is, if I can get into Martell's room." "All right, Fred. Anything you say goes," added Andy, quickly. "Isn't that so, Randy?" "Sure thing!" "Look here! You don't want to get into trouble," warned Jack. "There won't be much trouble about this," answered Fred. "I am only going to give Nappy Martell something to think about." CHAPTER XII LEARNING TO DRILL While the Rover boys were talking matters over among themselves, Nappy Martell had returned to his room, which was connected by a door with that occupied by Slugger Brown. "What in thunder made you run off in such a hurry, Nappy?" demanded the other cadet somewhat surlily. "You didn't answer that question I put to you at all." "I had something else to think about," was the reply. "It looks to me as if I'm in hot water." "How's that?" "Do you remember I told you that I placed that Fred Rover's suitcase down under a stack in the cornfield?" "Yes." "Well, I heard Walt Baxter telling Ned Lowe that he had seen a tramp down in the cornfield running away from one of the stacks with a suitcase in his hand; so I went down to the cornfield to find out if the suitcase was still where I had hidden it. It was gone." "Whew!" Slugger Brown gave a prolonged whistle. "That certainly does look bad. Did Baxter say where the tramp went?" "He told Lowe that he had not come towards the Hall, but had gone off in the opposite direction." "Then that looks as if the suitcase was gone for good." "So it does. And I don't know what I'm going to do about it," answered Nappy Martell, gloomily. "Of course, I didn't think the suitcase would be stolen." "And the worst part of it is, the Rovers suspect you of having taken it," was the comment of Slugger. "Yes. But they can't prove it," cried Nappy, quickly. "That is, they won't be able to do it unless you or Codfish give me away." "You know me well enough to know I won't say a word, Nappy. And as for Codfish, just give him to understand if he opens his trap you'll fix him for it." A little while later Martell and Brown went below. In the lower hallway they met Fred and some of the others. "Well, Martell, when are you going to return that suitcase?" demanded the youngest Rover. "I told you I haven't got your suitcase and don't know anything about it," cried the loudly dressed youth. But at the same time his face grew flushed and he could not look Fred in the eyes. "You took that suitcase, and if you don't return it pretty quick you'll see what will happen," warned Fred; and then he walked away with his cousins, leaving Nappy Martell gazing at Slugger Brown, questioningly. The pair conversed in a low tone, and passed on out of the hall on to the campus. "Now's your time, Fred, if you're going to do as you said," whispered Randy. "Right you are!" was the quick reply. "Come on;" and Fred led the way upstairs again, his cousins following. When they reached Nappy Martell's room, they found the door locked. But the door to Slugger Brown's apartment was unfastened, and they quickly entered this and passed into the room beyond. "Say, Jack, won't you stand on guard?" questioned Fred. "They might come back while we're at work." "All right, boys. But be careful what you do. You don't want to spoil anything. A joke is a joke, but it loses its flavor if it is carried too far." With Jack standing in the hallway on guard, Fred and the twins took possession of Nappy Martell's room. The boy who loved to dress so loudly was rather methodical in his habits, and had arranged all of his clothing and other articles with great nicety in his chiffonier and his closet. "The bed first," whispered Fred; and in a trice the boys had taken off the bed clothing and turned up the mattress. On the springs they placed one of the bedsheets and on the top of this they distributed all of Nappy's choice neckties and also his fancy-colored socks. Then to this they added his cuffs, his fancy underwear, and all of his loose jewelry. The articles were spread over the bed with care, so that they rested as flat as possible. "Now, we'll put the mattress back and then make up the bed as nicely as possible," said Randy, who, of course, in a joke of this sort directed operations. "Gee! I don't believe he'll find those articles in a hurry," chuckled Fred. "They'll never find them until they come to turn the mattress over," vouchsafed Andy. "Some joke, believe me!" "I was thinking about that clothing in the closet. I wonder if we can't fix that up some way," mused Randy. Then he began to grin. "Just the thing!" he continued, and walked to the chiffonier, from a drawer in which he brought out a package of safety pins. "What are you going to do with those?" questioned Fred. "We'll pin up all the ends of the sleeves and the trouser legs, from the inside," was the quick reply. "Come, hurry up!" and then the three boys lost no time in doing as Randy had suggested. This done, they left the room, leaving it, so far as looks in general went, just as when they had entered it. "There'll be some fun when Nappy wants one of those neckties or a pair of those fancy socks," laughed Andy. "I wish I could be on hand to see him." "Don't you worry--we'll hear about it," returned Fred. "He'll suspect me on account of that suitcase affair." While it was true that the regular school term had not yet opened, the new arrivals had been informed that they must be on hand to be measured for their uniforms and also to be instructed by some of the seniors who were present in drilling. The measurements of the boys were taken down in the gymnasium under the directions of Mr. Silas Crews, who was the gymnasium instructor and also the husband of Mrs. Crews, the matron for the younger cadets. "I hope they've got a suit on hand that fits me," was Jack's comment, as he and his cousins walked to the gymnasium. "I'd like to see how it feels to be in a uniform." His wish was gratified, for a little later he was given an entire outfit, which consisted of both a fulldress uniform and a fatigue suit, as well as belt, shoulder straps, cap, and hat, and several other things. Uniforms were also found for the others, and the entire crowd lost no time in hurrying back to their rooms to dress up. In this they were aided by Spouter, who had donned his uniform immediately upon his arrival. "Some brass buttons, believe me!" was Andy's comment, as he strode around the rooms. "Say! you put me in mind of a peacock," said the twin. "My, just see how he swells up!" and Randy himself raised his chest as high as possible. "What are you going to be, Jack--fifth corporal or first admiral of the rear guard?" questioned Fred. "I'm going to be head soup-carrier for the bayonet squad," returned his cousin gaily. As soon as they had donned their uniforms, the boys returned to the gymnasium, where they were placed in what was called an awkward squad, and which was under the direction of Dan Soppinger. Here they quickly learned how to stand erect with their toes on a chalk mark, and how to hold their hands properly. Then they were given directions how to cast their eyes "To the right," "To the left," and "Front." Then they learned the meaning of "Right face," "Left face," and "About face." [Illustration: THEY WERE PLACED IN WHAT WAS CALLED AN AWKWARD SQUAD. _Page_ 125] "All of you are doing pretty well," remarked Dan Soppinger to the squad of eight under him. "Now then, we'll see what you can do when it comes to marching. When I give the order 'Forward,' you balance on your right foot, and when the word comes 'March!' you step out with your left foot. And when you step out, do it like this," and he gave an illustration by marching up and down in front of the squad. To the Rover boys all this was very interesting, and they learned with comparative ease. Only one of the awkward squad seemed to have difficulty in marching just right, a lad named White. "Don't lag behind, White!" cried Dan Soppinger, sharply. "Step right out as if you meant it;" and after that White did a little better. While the drilling was in progress, Colonel Colby came down to the gymnasium to look on. He was pleased with the general results. "I think you are doing very well, boys," he said. "Of course, you can't learn to become first-class soldiers in a day. It takes hard practising to do anything just right." "When do we get guns?" questioned Andy, after the drilling had come to an end. "You won't get guns until you have learned how to march and how to turn properly," answered Dan. "Then, when you do get guns, you'll have to go in for the manual of arms." "And how about learning how to shoot?" questioned Jack. "That will come still later--after you have had experience in marching and in handling your guns." "Whoop! Me for a real soldier boy!" cried Andy, his eyes sparkling, and then he began to hum a bit of doggerel he had made up on the spur of the moment. "Johnny, get your musket-- You must get your musket. Johnny, get your musket-- You must get it now!" "Wow! that's some song," was Fred's comment. "Better have it copyrighted, Andy." "Oh, I've already got a double-barreled patent on it," was the light answer. "Anybody who steals it will get ten years in a bathing suit at the north pole;" and at this there was a general laugh. The boys were awaiting the arrival of Gif Garrison, who came in about noon of that day. Gif was a big boy, and, as mentioned before, was at the head of a great many of the athletic doings of the school. "Glad to see you fellows here," said Gif, as he shook hands all around. "My! but we're going to have some good times now, aren't we?" "If we don't, it won't be our fault," responded Jack. "We've just been learning how to become soldiers," explained Randy. "My head is full of 'Eyes right,' 'Left face,' 'Forward march,' and all that sort of thing." "Oh, you'll get used to that, Randy, before you've been here very long," returned Gif. "Did you have a nice time getting here?" questioned Fred. "I might have had a nice time if it hadn't been for one thing," was the answer. "I came in on the same train with a professor that none of us like." "Oh! Do you mean Asa Lemm?" questioned Andy, quickly. "That's it! What do you know of him?" "We know quite a little," answered Jack, and related some of the particulars of what had happened on the train. "Oh, I can see your finish," said Gif with a serious look on his face. "Old Lemon will never forget that happening. He'll be down on you for it all the term." CHAPTER XIII FRED IS FOLLOWED It took the Rover boys several days to settle down at Colby Hall. Everything, of course, was new to them, and they took great delight in roaming around the place in company with Spouter, Gif and the various new friends they had made. During that time they continued to drill, both in the morning and the afternoon; and it was surprising how quickly they learned the manual of arms and also the other tactics which go to make up the discipline of a cadet. "This life is all to the merry," was Andy's comment one day, while he and the others were down at the shore of the river inspecting the boathouse with its numerous craft. "It certainly is one fine place," answered Jack. "If Putnam Hall was anything like this, no wonder our fathers thought so much of it." Since Fred had asked Nappy Martell for the suitcase, the boy who was addicted to loud clothing had avoided the Rovers. But through the cadet named White they had learned much of what had happened in Nappy's room when he came in after it had been "rearranged" by the Rovers. "Nappy Martell was the maddest fellow you ever saw," Bart White had declared. "He stormed all around the corridor, accusing nearly everybody in that vicinity of having taken his neckties and his underwear and a lot of jewelry. He even came to my room and threatened to tell Colonel Colby if I didn't tell him where the things were." "And, of course, you couldn't do that," had been Randy's reply, with a side wink at the others. "No. I told him I didn't know where the things were--because, you see, I really didn't know," went on Bart White, innocently. "And after that?" queried Jack. "Oh, he stormed around, accusing this one and that one until some of the boys got sick of listening and told him to shut up. Then he went back to his room and slammed the door hard enough to burst it off its hinges." "Do you suppose he reported the matter to Colonel Colby?" had been Fred's question. "I don't know about that. You see, when a fellow gets as mad as Martell was he's liable to do almost anything." And that was all Bart White had had to relate concerning the affair. So far, the Rover boys had not had anything to do with Asa Lemm. They had met the sharp-faced professor once in the hallway and he had stared at them in a fashion which made Andy shiver. "He's got it in for me all right!" had been the declaration of the fun-loving youth. "I guess Gif was right," had been Jack's comment. "He'll have it in for us the whole term. Too bad! I'd rather be friendly with every one than have any enemies." The Rover boys were just leaving the boathouse after having admired the beautiful four- and eight-oared shells stored there, when they saw Fatty Hendry coming towards them as rapidly as his stoutness permitted. "Say! I've got something to tell you fellows," puffed the fat boy as he came closer. "I just saw that sneak of a Codfish coming from Fred's room. He looked awful sneakish, and I'm sure he was up to no good." "I'll go up to my room at once and see," answered the youngest Rover, and lost no time in speeding back to the Hall. He bounded up the stairs two steps at a time. But when he reached the room he occupied, a surprise awaited him. Everything was exactly as he had left it. It may be as well to state here that every cadet at Colby Hall was required to keep his room in absolute order, and a monitor came around twice a day to see that this regulation was carried out. If a pupil was lax in any particular regarding his room, he was given a demerit in consequence thereof. "Well, thank goodness! he didn't upset anything, even if he was here," murmured Fred to himself. "I wonder what the little imp was up to?" Then a sudden thought struck him and he walked to the clothes closet in the bottom of which he had deposited his suitcase. He found the bag in the closet, but it was placed there in such a way that he was sure it had been handled. "Well, what have you found?" questioned Andy, who had followed his cousin to the room. "I think I know why he came here," declared Fred. "More than likely Martell sent him here to find out whether I really had the suitcase or not. The bag I know has been handled. When I placed it in the closet I put the open end of the straps against the wall. Now the open ends are on this side." "Say! you're some detective, Fred!" "I know how I left the bag. And he certainly had it out of the closet and put it back." "See if he did anything to it," went on Andy, quickly; and thereupon Fred brought the bag forth and examined it. It was empty, just as he had left it. "Well, that will take the worry of the missing bag from Martell's mind," was Fred's comment, as he and Andy left the room, this time locking the door. "Martell must have had some kind of a clue to the truth or he wouldn't have sent Codfish here," was Andy's comment. "Maybe he got on to what part Walt Baxter and Ned Lowe played in the trick." And in this surmise Andy was correct. By the merest accident Codfish had overheard Walt and Ned speaking about the joke, and at once he had gone to Nappy with the news; and the upshot had been that Nappy had sent the sneak to Fred's room to learn if the suitcase with Fred's initials upon it was there. Late that afternoon both the old and the new cadets were assigned to their places in the various classrooms and also given the text-books which they were to study during the term. "This begins to look like work," sighed Randy. "Well, we didn't come here just for the fun of it," declared Jack. "We came here, if you'll remember, to get an education." "Oh, I'm not going to complain," returned his cousin quickly. "I'm willing to do my share of studying. But after the splendid vacation we had this Summer it will be a little tough at the beginning to get down to the grind." "That's just what I was thinking," declared Andy. "I wish a fellow didn't have to study. Why can't some of our great inventors invent some kind of knowledge pill so a fellow can just go and buy a few boxes and then take them regularly?" "Great idea, Andy!" exclaimed his twin merrily. By the next morning all of the cadets had arrived, and also all of the teachers and the other persons connected with Colby Hall. Then the cadets were assembled on the parade ground and made to march into the general assembly room of the institution, where Colonel Colby addressed them. He spoke about the good work done by the cadets during the former term at the school, and said he trusted that the present term would turn out still better. "At present all of our old officers of the battalion will hold over," he announced. "But in the near future--just as soon as we have got settled in our classes--I will announce the time for a new election. The major and the two captains to be elected must be in their senior year at this institution. The other officers may be either sophomores or juniors." "That lets us out," whispered Andy to Jack. "Evidently no freshmen can be officers." "Well, why should we be officers?" answered his cousin. "We hardly know a thing about soldiering yet. I think Colonel Colby's rule is a very good one." During the meeting in the assembly room all of the professors were called on to say a few words to the cadets. The addresses delivered by Professors Grawson and Brice and one or two of the other teachers were well received; but it was plainly evident that when Asa Lemm came forward to speak to the boys there was a distinctly cold feeling towards him. "I want to speak about attention to work," he said in a severe tone of voice. "During the last term at this school there was not that attention in classes that I desire. From now on I expect every one who comes to me to pay strict attention at all times. Any laxity will be severely punished." "Gosh! He's a cheerful customer!" was Fred's comment. "He'd make a fellow down on him almost before the term began," was another cadet's comment. "I don't wonder they call him old Lemon," added another youth. "And now we're all ready to go to work," said Jack, after the cadets had been dismissed. On the following day the classes were to begin. There had been so much bustle and confusion throughout the school that day that Fred, who was not feeling extra well, got quite a headache. "You had better lie down for a while and rest," said Jack, kindly. "You don't want to get sick." "Oh, it's only a headache, and I'll soon be over it," declared Fred. "I think I'll go out for a quiet walk along the river." "Do you want me to go along?" "No. I'd just as lief go alone, Jack. I think the quietness will do me more good than anything." This mood was not a new one with the youngest Rover, so Jack said no more, and a few minutes later Fred slipped on his heavy sweater and donned his cap and set out for his walk. His steps took him towards the boathouse and the bathing houses, and then he continued on along a path running close to the shore of the river. Although the youngest Rover did not know it, his departure had been watched by Codfish. The small boy lost no time in hurrying to Nappy Martell and Slugger Brown with his information. "You're sure he's alone?" asked Nappy, quickly. "Yes. Nobody went out with him." "Then that's our chance, Slugger," went on the boy from New York. "Come ahead, if you want to help me." "All right, Nap. But I thought you said you could polish him off alone?" "So I can. But I thought you'd like to see the fun." "Can't I go along too?" put in Codfish. "Yes, if you'll promise to keep your mouth shut about it." "Oh, I won't say a word," returned the little cadet, quickly. Putting on their hats and coats, the three cadets lost no time in following Fred. It was quite dark on the campus and parade ground, but they soon caught sight of the figure ahead as the youngest Rover moved past the bathhouses to the river path beyond. "He's alone all right enough," was Slugger Brown's comment. "I thought I'd catch him sooner or later after I set Codfish to watching him," answered Nappy Martell. "Now I guess I'll be able to teach him to play tricks on me," he added sourly. The three cadets quickened their pace, and in a moment more caught up to Fred just as he reached a point on the river shore almost out of sight of the Hall. Fred had dipped his handkerchief in the water and used the same for wiping off his aching brow. "See here, Rover, I want to talk to you!" cried Nappy Martell, and, striding forward, he caught Fred roughly by the arm. Of course, the youngest Rover was startled, not dreaming that anyone was following him. Yet he showed no signs of fear. "What do you want of me, Martell?" he asked quietly. "I'll show you what I want of you!" cried Nappy Martell in sudden wrath. "I'll teach you to play tricks on me! Try to make me believe your suitcase was stolen, will you? And then come to my room and rough-house things, eh? Just wait till I get through with you and you'll wish you'd never been born!" CHAPTER XIV THE FIGHT Fred Rover realized that he was in an unenviable situation. Nappy Martell was thoroughly angry, and evidently Slugger Brown and Codfish were present to aid him in anything he might undertake to do. Many another boy might have thought discretion the better part of valor and taken to his heels. But the youngest Rover was not built that way. He had been taught to stick up for his rights and defend himself whenever the cause was a just one. "What do you propose to do, Martell?" he questioned as quietly as he could. "I'll show you what I'll do," blustered the other. "You thought it was a fine joke to put most of my things under the mattress of my bed, didn't you?" "Who told you I did that?" "Never mind. I found it out, and that's enough. Do you dare to deny it?" "I don't suppose there will be any use in denying it," was Fred's reply. "It was done as a joke, to square accounts over the missing suitcase." "Bah! you needn't talk to me, Rover! I know the kind you and your cousins are. I'm going to fix you. How do you like that?" and as he uttered the last word, Nappy Martell hauled back and slapped Fred on the cheek. It was a comparatively light blow, but it aroused all the fighting blood in the youngest Rover boy's nature, and without stopping to think twice, he doubled up his fists and hit the larger youth a stinging blow in the jaw. "Gee! look at that!" murmured Codfish, who had not expected such an onslaught from the smaller cadet. "Say, Nappy, he's coming back at you!" burst out Slugger Brown, in surprise. "Coming back at me nothing!" roared Martell; and, leaping forward, he rained a succession of blows on Fred--hitting him in the shoulder, the chest and then the left ear. In another moment the two cadets were at it "hammer and tongs." As they circled around, Codfish put out his foot, trying to trip Fred up. He failed in this, but a moment later Slugger Brown tried the trick with success, and the youngest Rover came down heavily and an instant later Nappy Martell landed on top of him. "Get off of me! That wasn't fair!" exclaimed Fred. "Those other fellows tripped me up." "Aw, shut up!" retorted Martell; and while he held Fred down with his body he continued to pommel the smaller youth with his fists. "Don't go too far," said Slugger Brown presently, in alarm. "If you do that, he may squeal and get you into trouble." "Somebody is coming!" screamed Codfish, suddenly, as he saw a number of forms running across the parade ground in the direction of the river road. "Four or five of 'em." "It's Jack Rover and his chums," muttered Slugger Brown. He was right. Jack was approaching, followed by Spouter, Fatty, Walt Baxter and Gif Garrison. "I was sure they were up to no good--following Fred that way," Walt Baxter was saying. "I'm glad you told me about this, Walt," answered Jack. "Three against one is no fair deal." As the five cadets came rushing up, Codfish viewed their approach with alarm and then retreated several paces. Slugger Brown, however, stood his ground. "Hi you! let my cousin alone!" cried Jack, and, leaping forward, he caught Nappy Martell by the collar and hurled him into some bushes. "Say, this isn't any of your fight," put in Slugger Brown, uglily. While he spoke, Fred lost no time in leaping to his feet and there he stood, once more on the defensive. "No one asked you to butt in, Jack Rover!" stormed Nappy Martell. "You keep out of this." "Why did he attack you, Fred?" "Huh! you know the reason as well as he does," burst out Martell. "You played a trick on me about that suitcase, and then you came and rough-housed my room." "One trick was only played to square up for the other, Martell," answered Jack, calmly. "You ought to be man enough to cry quits and let it go at that." "I won't cry quits--not until I've given this fellow a good licking!" roared Nappy Martell; and then before anyone could stop him he lunged another blow at Fred, who, however, was quick enough to dodge it. "Stop!" Jack's voice was now unusually stern, and stepping up to Nappy Martell he caught the fellow by the arm and swung him around so that the pair faced each other. "If you want to fight, Martell, take somebody nearer your size." "Oh, Jack! I'm not afraid of him," burst out Fred. Strange to say, the excitement of the occasion seemed to have chased his headache completely away. "Maybe you want me to fight you," sneered Nappy Martell. "You'll have to fight me if you don't leave my cousin Fred alone." "See here, Rover! you've no right to butt in like this," interposed Slugger Brown. "Why don't you let the pair finish it?" "Those two fellows," cried Fred, pointing to Slugger Brown and Codfish, "tripped me up. It wasn't fair--three against one." "We didn't trip him up at all," came from the two accused ones simultaneously. "They did, Jack. First Codfish tried it, and then Brown put out his foot and I went down, and Martell at once pounced on me." "That's no way to fight!" broke out Spouter. "It was certainly a mean trick," was Gif's comment. "If there is any fighting to be done, I guess we're on hand to see that it's done fairly," came from Walt Baxter. A perfect war of words followed, in the midst of which Nappy Martell seemed to lose complete control of his temper. He rushed at Jack and hit the youth two quick blows, one in the chest and the other on the chin. The oldest Rover was not looking for this attack, and he staggered backward into some bushes, all but losing his balance. "That's the way to do it, Nappy!" cried Slugger Brown, excitedly. "Give it to him!" Jack was as much surprised as Fred had been when first hit, but he was able to recover much more quickly than his cousin. He leaped forward from the bushes, doubled up his fists, and the next instant sent in a crashing blow that landed straight on Martell's nose. He followed up this blow with another on the other youth's chin which sent Martell sprawling flat on his back. "Hurrah! that's the way to do it, Jack!" cried Spouter. "Say! has he got to fight two of you Rovers?" questioned Slugger Brown. "No. He's got to fight me only," answered Jack, quickly. He turned to his cousin. "Fred, you keep out of this." "But he started on me," pleaded the youngest Rover. "And now that you are here to see fair play, I'm not afraid of him." "Never mind. It's my fight, anyway," went on Jack. "I owe him one for the way he treated me down in Wall Street that day." While this talk was going on, Nappy Martell had scrambled to his feet. His nose was swollen and bleeding profusely. "You imp!" he howled, and lunged another attack at Jack. He was able to land two blows on Jack's chest, but they were not powerful enough to do harm. Then, as Martell circled around, the oldest Rover boy managed to get in another blow, this time on his opponent's mouth, loosening two of Nappy's teeth. "That's the way to do it, Jack!" "Give him a few more like that and he'll soon quit." "Go for him, Nappy! You can do him up if you'll only try," bellowed Slugger Brown in excitement. "You keep back, Slugger," warned Walt Baxter. "Don't you interfere." "I didn't interfere." "Well, you're too close, anyway. Keep back like the rest of us." "That's just what I say," broke out Spouter. Realizing that the others were in the majority, Slugger Brown kept his distance from the pair who were fighting. Codfish was trembling like a leaf, and cowered well in the background. Around and around circled the two contestants, and for a few minutes neither of them seemed to have the advantage. Jack was hit in the arm, and returned by landing another blow, this time on Nappy's chest. Then the big youth aimed a kick at the Rover boy's stomach. "Hi! that's no way to fight!" cried Gif, indignantly. Jack had managed to escape the kick, and he had put down one hand so quickly that Nappy Martell had been in great danger of being caught and thrown on his back. In the midst of the contest several forms could be seen hurrying across the campus and the parade ground, and in a moment more Andy and Randy came into view, followed by Bart White and some other cadets. "It's a fight!" "Why, what do you know about this! Jack is fighting Nappy Martell!" "Martell tackled me first, but Jack took the fight out of my hands," explained Fred to his cousins. "Who has got the best of it?" questioned Bart White, excitedly. "I think Jack has the best of it so far," answered Gif; "but the fight isn't finished yet," he added, a bit anxiously. "You're right it isn't finished yet!" retorted Slugger Brown. "Just you wait until Nappy gets his second wind, and then you'll see what he'll do to Rover." Once more the two contestants were circling around, each trying to get in some kind of telling blow. Various passes were made, and in the excitement the pair left the roadway and began to circle around on the grassy bank of the river. "Look out there, or you'll both go overboard!" sang out Spouter in alarm. The cadets who were fighting were too engrossed to pay attention to this warning. They kept on circling about, and then Nappy Martell made a wild and vicious pass for Jack's head. The latter dodged like lightning, came up under his opponent's arm, and the next instant landed a swinging blow on Martell's ear which sent him staggering backward several paces, to fall with a splash into the river. CHAPTER XV IN THE TOWN "Hello! Nappy's overboard!" "Wow! that was some crack on the ear!" "Can he swim?" "Sure, he can swim! If he can't we can haul him in easy enough." "I don't believe the river is very deep here." Such were some of the words uttered immediately after the well-delivered blow from Jack Rover had sent his opponent spinning into the swiftly flowing waters of the Rick Rack River. Fortunately, the moon and the stars were shining brightly, so it was not as dark as it otherwise might have been. Indeed, had it not been for the brightness of the night it is doubtful if the fight could have been carried on as already described. All of the cadets present lined up along the river bank, and an instant later saw Nappy Martell come to the surface. He was striking out wildly and spluttering at the same time, showing that he had gone overboard with his mouth open and had swallowed some of the water. One hand and shoulder were covered with mud from the river bottom, for at that particular point the stream was less than five feet deep. "Oh, he'll be drowned! I know he'll be drowned!" screamed Codfish in terror. "You shut up, you little imp!" burst out Gif. "You'll arouse the whole school, and there is no need of doing that." By this time Nappy Martell was close to the river bank, and he reached up his hand appealingly to those above him. "Here, give me your hand, Nappy!" cried Slugger Brown, and reached down to aid his crony. But the bank was a slippery and treacherous one, and he was in danger of going overboard himself. "Wait a minute, Slugger--let me help you," cried Spouter, and he took hold of the big youth's left hand. Then the others also came forward to do what they could, and in a few seconds more Nappy Martell was hauled up on the grass. He was pretty well exhausted and panted painfully. "I'm sorry you went overboard, Martell," said Jack, promptly. "I didn't expect to knock you into the river." "You did it on purpose! You know you did!" returned the other youth wrathfully. "Yo--you--d--d--don't know how to f--f--fight fair," he added, his teeth suddenly beginning to chatter, for the unexpected bath at this season had proved awfully cold. "Say! he's shivering like a leaf!" cried Fred. "You had better get back to the Hall and change your clothing," advised Jack. "I won't change anything until I've given you a licking," roared Nappy Martell. "Oh, say, Nappy, you had better call it off for to-night," interposed Slugger Brown. "You can't fight in those wet clothes. Finish it some other time." "I won't!" came the ejaculation, and then the dripping boy hurled himself once more at Jack. But he was blinded by water and mud as well as by rage; and the oldest Rover boy easily evaded the new onslaught. Then, of a sudden, he reached out and caught Martell by both wrists and held him in a vise-like grasp. "Now, see here, Martell, don't be foolish," he said sternly. "I don't want to fight a fellow who has been overboard and is wringing wet. You'll catch your death of cold hanging around here in this night air. Go on back to the Hall and change your clothing. If you want to finish this some other time, I'll be ready for you." "That's the talk!" added Spouter. "It would be foolish to go on in this condition," remarked Gif. "Call it off, by all means." "You might as well do it," came from Slugger Brown. "You wouldn't have any kind of a fair show, Nappy--after having been in the river, and after having had to lick the other Rover first." "He didn't lick me!" burst out Fred, indignantly. More words followed, but in the end Nappy Martell consented to return to the Hall and went off in company with Slugger Brown, Codfish, and one or two more friends who had chanced to come up. "You'll have to slip in on the sly, or else somebody may ask some unpleasant questions," remarked Slugger Brown on the way to the school. "You lend me your coat, and I'll take mine off and make a bundle of it," answered Martell; and so it was arranged. The others clustered around the dripping youth and thus they managed to get him to his room without being detected. "He'll never forgive you, Jack, for knocking him into the river," said Randy, while the Rovers and their friends walked slowly back to the Hall. "I guess you're right," was the answer. "And what is more, he'll probably try to play some underhanded trick on you," added Andy. "I wish I had had the chance--I think I could have knocked him out myself," broke in Fred. "I'm not afraid of him, even if he is bigger than I am." All those who had witnessed the contest were cautioned to keep quiet about it. Yet in a school like Colby Hall it was next to impossible to keep the particulars of the affair from circulating, and before long many of the cadets knew the truth. The majority were of the opinion that Jack could readily have defeated Martell had the contest been fought to a finish. "He'll undoubtedly lay for you, Jack," remarked Fred that night, in talking the matter over in their rooms. "Maybe he'll lay for you, Fred," smiled his big cousin. "You had better keep your eyes peeled." "I guess we had better all watch out," was Randy's comment. But for the next few days Nappy Martell, as well as his particular crony, Slugger Brown, kept to themselves, while Codfish was so timid that he hardly dared to show himself. About a week, including Sunday, went by, and the school began to settle down to its regular routine of studies. The Rover boys had had all their classes mapped out for them, and had also been assigned to a class in gymnasium work. Gymnastics especially suited the agile Andy, who nearly always preferred action to sitting still. The Rover boys on leaving home had promised their parents that they would pay strict attention to their studies, and now they did their best in that direction. Of course, some of the lessons were rather hard, and Fred, being the youngest, often found he needed assistance from the others. During those days they quickly discovered why Dan Soppinger had been referred to by one of their friends as the "human question mark." Dan always wanted to know something, and he did not hesitate to ask for information on any and all occasions, no matter what else might happen to be under discussion at the time. "He'll die asking questions," remarked Andy. "I never knew a fellow who could fire questions at a person so rapidly." It was now ideal weather for football, and as soon as the school became settled football talk filled the air. Gif Garrison had been at the head of the football eleven the Fall previous, and now he was looked upon to whip the new team into shape. "We generally play three games with outside schools," explained Gif to the Rovers one day. "First we play Hixley High. Then we play the Clearwater Country Club. And after that we wind up usually with our big game with Columbus Academy." "It must be great sport," answered Jack. "Did you ever get a chance to play football in New York?" "Oh, yes, we occasionally played a game." "Jack would make a first-rate football player if he had the chance," put in Randy. "I've seen him play, and I know." "Yes. And Fred makes a pretty good player, too," added Andy. "Of course, he's small and light in weight, but he's as quick on his feet as they make 'em." "How about you and Randy?" questioned Gif. "Oh, we never cared very much to play football. We'd rather have some fun in the crowd looking on," was the answer of the twin. At this, the football leader smiled. "Well, we've got to have some kind of an audience--otherwise there wouldn't be any fun in pulling off a game." He looked at Jack and Fred, thoughtfully. "I'm going to keep you two fellows in mind, and if I can put one or both of you on the team, I'll do it. Of course, you'll have your try-outs on the scrub first." "Well, you can put me on the scrub as soon as you please," answered Jack, promptly. "I'll be glad of the chance," added Fred. As was to be expected, no sooner had the boys attempted to settle down at Colby Hall than they began to want for a number of things which they had failed to bring from home. These articles were, for the most part, of small consequence; yet the boys could not get along very well without them, and so resolved on the following Saturday, which was a holiday, to walk down to Haven Point and do some shopping. "I'd like first rate to take a look around the town, too," said Randy. "It looked like a pretty good sort of place." "Maybe we can go to the moving picture show there," put in his brother. "We'll have time enough." "Perhaps--if the films look worth while," answered Jack. They had already learned that the moving picture show in the town was of the better class, and that the pupils of the school were allowed to attend a performance whenever they had time to do so. It did not take the four cousins long to walk the distance to Haven Point. They left the school directly after lunch, and inside of an hour had purchased the various small articles which they desired. Then all headed for the moving picture theater, which was located on the main street in the busiest portion of that thoroughfare. As the boys walked up to the booth to purchase their admission tickets, they saw a bevy of girls just entering the door. They were all well dressed and chatting gaily. "Nice bunch, all right," was Randy's comment. "I wonder where they are from?" "I think I know," answered Jack. "Spouter was telling me there is a girls' school on the other side of this town, called Clearwater Hall. It's about as large as Colby Hall. More than likely those girls come from that school." "I wish we knew them," said Andy. "I wonder if some of the cadets from our school don't know them." "More than likely some of our fellows know some of the girls," said Jack. "We may be able to become acquainted with them some day." CHAPTER XVI AT THE MOVING PICTURE THEATER The moving picture theater was large enough to hold several hundred people, and when the boys entered they found the place almost full. "There are some seats--over on the left," remarked Jack, as he pointed them out. "Two in one row and two directly behind." "Why not two in one row and two directly in front?" returned Andy, gaily, and then headed for the seats. "You and Fred had better sit in front, and Randy and I can take the back seats," went on Jack; and so it was arranged. They had come in between pictures and while some doors had been open for ventilation, so that the place was fairly light. As Jack took his seat he noticed that the girls who had come in just ahead of the boys were sitting close by. "They certainly do look like nice girls," was Jack's mental comment; and he could not help but cast a second glance at the girl sitting directly next to him. She was attired in a dark blue suit trimmed in fur and held a hat to match in her lap. Jack noted that she was fair of complexion, with dark, wavy hair. "I'm thinking this is going to be a pretty interesting picture for us, Andy," remarked Randy, as the name of the production was flashed upon the screen. "'The Gold Hunter's Secret--A Drama of the Yukon,'" he read. "That must have been taken in Alaska." "That's right, Randy," returned his twin. "Gee! I hope this Alaskan play doesn't affect us; like that other Alaskan play once affected dad," he went on, referring to a most remarkable happening, the details of which were given in "The Rover Boys in Alaska." "It isn't likely to," answered Randy, promptly. "Poor dad was in no mental condition to attend that show, Uncle Dick once told me. He had been knocked on the head with a footstool, and that had affected his mind." The four Rovers were soon absorbed in the stirring drama of the Alaskan gold fields, and for the time being almost forgot their surroundings. In the midst of the last reel, however, Jack felt the girl beside him stirring. "It's my hatpin," she whispered. "It just fell to the floor." "I'll get it," he returned promptly, and started to hunt in the dark. He had to get up and push up his seat before the hatpin was recovered. "Oh, thank you very much," said the girl sweetly, when he presented the article to her. "You are welcome, I'm sure," returned the Rover boy; and then he added with a smile: "Accidents will happen in the best of families, you know," and at this both the girl and two of her companions giggled. The photo-drama was presently finished and was followed by a mirth-provoking comedy at which the entire audience laughed heartily. Then came a reel of current events from various portions of the globe. "Say, there's something worth looking at!" cried Fred, as a boat race was flashed on the screen. "Right you are," responded Jack. "Just see those fellows pull! Isn't it grand?" he added enthusiastically. "I'd like to be in that shell myself," and he turned suddenly, to catch the girl beside him casting her eyes in his direction. She dropped them quickly, but her whole manner showed that she, too, was interested, not only in the race, but in what Jack had said. The cadets, of course, were in uniform, so the girl knew they were from Colby Hall. The reel of current events had almost come to a finish, and there was intense silence as the picture showed the funeral of some well-known man of the East, when there came a sudden splutter from the operator's booth in the back gallery. This was followed by several flashes of light and then a small explosion. "What's that?" "Some explosion!" "The theater's on fire!" "Let's get out of this!" "That's right! I don't want to be burnt to death!" Such were some of the exclamations which arose on the air. A panic had seized the audience, and, like one person, they leaped to their feet and began to fight to get out of the theater. In a twinkling there was a crush in the aisles, and several people came close to being knocked down and trampled upon. "Where's my hat?" "Get back there--don't crush these children!" "See the smoke pouring in!" "Open the side door, somebody!" "Keep cool! Keep cool!" yelled somebody from the gallery. "There is no fire! Keep cool!" But there was such a tumult below that scarcely anybody paid attention to these words. While many fought to get out the way they had come in, others stormed towards the side doors of the playhouse. Meanwhile, an ill-smelling cloud of smoke drifted through the auditorium. With the first alarm the Rover boys had leaped to their feet, and almost by instinct the others looked to Jack to see what he would do. "Oh, oh! is the place on fire?" cried the girl who had been sitting next to the oldest Rover, and she caught him by the arm. "I don't know," he answered. "Something exploded in the operating room." "Oh, let us get out!" came from one of the other girls. "Yes, yes! I don't want to be burnt up!" wailed a third. "Don't get excited," warned Jack. "I don't believe there is any great danger. There is no fire down here, and there seem to be plenty of doors." "The fellow upstairs said to keep cool," put in Randy. "Maybe it won't amount to much after all." Most of the lights had gone out, leaving the theater in almost total darkness. "Come on for the side door," said Jack. "That's the nearest way out." The smoke from above was now settling, and this caused many to cough, while it made seeing more difficult than ever. Jack pushed Fred ahead of him, holding one hand on his cousin's shoulder, while with the other hand he reached out and grasped the wrist of the girl who had been sitting beside him. "You had better come this way," he said; "and bring your friends along." "All right. But do hurry!" she pleaded. "I am so afraid that something will happen." "Oh, Ruth! can we get out?" questioned the girl next to her. "I don't know. I hope so," answered the girl addressed, and then began to cough slightly, for the smoke was steadily growing thicker. It was no easy matter to reach the side entrance, for already half a hundred people were striving to get through a doorway not much over two feet wide. The air was filled with screams and exclamations of protest, and for the time being in the theater it was as if bedlam had broken loose. "Are we all here?" came from Andy, as, with smarting eyes, he tried to pierce the gloom. "I'm here," answered his twin. "So am I," came simultaneously from Jack and Fred. Then Jack turned to the girl who was now beside him. "Are all your friends with you?" "I--I think so," she faltered; and then she added: "Annie, are Alice and Jennie with you?" "Yes. We're all here," came from somebody in the rear. "But, oh, do let us get out! I can scarcely breathe!" "I've lost my hat!" wailed another. "Oh, never mind your hat, Alice, as long as we get out," came from the girl who was next to Jack. At last the crowd at the doorway thinned out, and a moment later the four Rovers, pushing the girls ahead of them, managed to get outside. They found themselves in a narrow alleyway, and from this hurried to the street beyond. "Oh, how glad I am that we are out of there!" exclaimed the girl who had been sitting beside Jack. "I'm glad myself," he added, wiping away the tears which the smoke had started from his eyes. "If only they all get out safely!" said one of the other girls. "I don't know about that," answered Randy, seriously. "It was a bad enough crush at that side door, but I think it was worse at the front doors." By this time everybody seemed to be out of the theater. An alarm of fire had been sounded, and now a local chemical engine, followed by a hook and ladder company, came rushing to the scene. There was, for fully ten minutes, a good deal of excitement, but this presently died down when it was learned positively that there was no fire outside the metallic booth from which the pictures had been shown and where the small explosion had occurred. "It wasn't much of an explosion," explained the manager of the theater. "It was more smoke than anything else." "Yes. And I yelled to the crowd that there was no fire and that they must keep cool," added the man who had been operating the moving picture machine. In the excitement several people had been knocked down, but fortunately nobody had been hurt. A number of articles of wearing apparel had been left in the theater. "I wish I could get my hat," said the girl named Alice, wistfully. "I don't want to go back to school bareheaded." "What kind of a hat was it?" questioned Randy, who stood beside her. "Maybe I can get it for you;" and then, after the girl had given him a description of the head covering, he went off to question one of the theater men about it. In a few minutes more he came back with the missing property. After Randy returned, the boys introduced themselves to the girls, and learned that all of the latter were scholars at Clearwater Hall. The leader of the party was Ruth Stevenson, who had sat next to Jack, while her friends were Annie Larkins, Alice Strobell, Jennie Mason and May Powell. "I know a fellow named Powell quite well," remarked Jack, as the last-named girl was introduced. "He goes to our school. His name is Dick, but we all call him Spouter." "Dick Powell is my cousin," answered May. And then she added smilingly: "I've heard of you Rover boys before." "Yes, and I've heard of you, too," broke in Ruth Stevenson. "And who told you about us?" questioned Jack. "Why, a big boy at your school--the head of the football team." "Oh! do you know Gif Garrison?" "Yes. I suppose you know him quite well?" "Well, I should say so!" declared Jack. "Why, my cousin Fred here is named after Gif Garrison's father. His father and my father were school chums." "Oh! Why then we know a lot of the same people, don't we? How nice!" returned Ruth Stevenson, and smiled frankly at Jack. After that the talk between the boys and the girls became general, and each crowd told the other of how matters were going at their own particular school. "Yes, I've been up to Colby Hall several times to see the baseball and the football games," said Ruth to Jack in answer to his question. "It's certainly a splendid place." "Some day, if you don't mind, I'll come over and take a look at Clearwater Hall," he answered. "Clearwater Hall! Say, that must be a fine place to get a drink!" piped in Andy; and at this little joke all of the girls giggled. CHAPTER XVII THE GIRLS FROM CLEARWATER HALL The Rover boys remained with the girls from Clearwater Hall for the best part of half an hour after the scare at the moving picture theater, and during that time the young folks became quite well acquainted. "We'll have to be getting back to our school now," said Ruth Stevenson, presently. "Oh, what's your hurry?" pleaded Jack. "Weren't you going to stay to the pictures?" "No. We were going to leave immediately after that reel they were showing when the explosion occurred," the girl replied. "Well, we've got to get back to Colby Hall in time for supper; but we can make that easily enough--we are all good walkers." "I should think you would ride in your auto-stage," put in Alice Strobell. "I'd ride if we had a stage handy." "The stage isn't down here now," answered Randy. "It only comes on order." The four boys walked with the girls to the end of a side street of the town, and there the pupils from Clearwater Hall stopped to say good-bye. "We are very thankful for what you did for us at the theater," said Ruth Stevenson. "You were very kind, indeed." "You are regular heroes!" burst out May Powell, who by her merry eyes showed that she was almost as full of fun as were the Rover twins. "I'm going to write to Spouter and let him know all about it." "And don't forget to mention the rescue of my hat," added Alice Strobell with a giggle. "I hope I have the pleasure of meeting you again, Miss Stevenson," said Jack, in an aside to the oldest girl of the party. "Well, maybe," she returned, looking at him frankly. "I've enjoyed this afternoon very much--in spite of that excitement." "Oh, so have I!" and now she cast down her eyes while a faint flush stole into her cheeks. "We won't dare say much about that trouble in the theater when we get back to school," remarked Jennie Mason. "That's right!" burst out Annie Larkins. "If we did, maybe Miss Garwood would refuse to let us attend any more performances." "Is Miss Garwood the head of your school?" questioned Randy. "Yes. And let me tell you, she is a very particular and precise woman." "I guess she isn't as precise and particular as one of our professors," was Andy's comment. "Oh! do you mean that teacher they call old Lemon?" cried May Powell. "Yes." "We've met him a number of times. What a ridiculous man he is! I don't understand why Colonel Colby keeps him." "I saw you look at me when I spoke about that boat race," said Jack to Ruth Stevenson. "Maybe you like to be out on the water?" "Oh, I do--very much! You know we have boats at the school, and I often go out with my friends." "I like to row myself. Perhaps some day you'd like to go out with me?" went on the oldest Rover, boldly. "I'd have to ask permission first," answered the girl, and then dropped her eyes. Evidently, however, the tentative invitation pleased her. As was to be expected, the parting between the boys and the girls was a rather prolonged affair, and it looked as if everybody was highly pleased with everybody else. But at last Annie Larkins looked at a wrist watch she wore and gave a little shriek. "Oh, girls, we must be going! We ought to be at the school this minute!" "Then here is where we start the walking act," declared May Powell. "Good-bye, everybody!" and away she hurried, leaving the others to trail behind her. "Don't forget about the row," said Jack in a low tone to Ruth Stevenson. "I'll remember--if I get the chance," she returned; and in a moment more all of the girls were gone and the boys retraced their steps to the center of the town. "Pretty nice bunch," was Randy's comment. "It's funny that Spouter Powell never told us he had such a nice cousin," came from Fred. "Hello, Fred's already smitten!" cried Jack, gaily. "Huh! you needn't talk," retorted the youngest Rover. "How about yourself? Didn't I catch you trying to make a date with that Ruth Stevenson?" "Oh, say, Fred! your ears are too big for your head," retorted Jack, growing red, while Andy and Randy looked at each other suggestively. By this time the excitement around the moving picture theater had died away completely and the crowd had disappeared. The front doors were closed, but the manager was just hanging out a sign to the effect that the evening performances would be given as usual. "I guess it was a big scare for nothing," was Randy's comment. "The audience can be thankful that they got out without anybody being hurt," returned Jack. The boys made a few more purchases in Haven Point, and then started back for Colby Hall. "I wonder if those girls go to church in Haven Point on Sundays," remarked Jack, just before the Hall was reached. "I don't know," answered Andy. "More than likely." His eyes began to twinkle. "Thinking of going to church yourself, Jack?" "Didn't we go to church when we were at home, Andy?" "Sure," was the prompt reply. "I think we can find out from Spouter or from some of the other cadets," answered Fred. "I know the boys are allowed to go to whatever church they please on Sundays." It may be as well to add here that on week days regular chapel exercises were held at Colby Hall before the ordinary classes were in session. From Spouter Jack received the information he desired, which was to the effect that his cousin May and a number of her chums generally attended a church on the outskirts of Haven Point in the direction of Clearwater Hall. "If you say so, I'll go with you there to-morrow morning," continued Spouter; and so the matter was arranged. At the church the cadets heard a very good sermon, and after the services had the pleasure of strolling with the girls as far as the entrance to their school grounds. Monday morning found the Rovers once more down to the grind of lessons. So far they had gotten along very well. But on Tuesday the unfortunate Andy had another run-in with Asa Lemm. "This won't do at all, Rover," stormed the professor, after Andy had given the wrong answer to a question. "You must pay more attention to your studies." "I'm doing the best I can, Professor," pleaded the youth. "Nonsense! I don't believe a word of it. They tell me you spend most of your time in horseplay. Now, that won't do at all. You must buckle down to your studies or I shall have to take you in hand;" and Professor Lemm glared at the lad as if ready to devour him. "Say, Andy, you'll have to toe the chalk mark after this," whispered his twin. "If you----" "Silence there! I will have silence!" cried Asa Lemm, pounding on his desk with a paper weight. "I'll have one grand smash-up with that man some day," was Andy's comment in speaking of the affair after the school session had closed. "I can't stand his arbitrary ways." "Oh, he's a lemon--and worse," returned his brother. During that week there was an election of officers for the school battalion, composed of Company A and Company B. The Rover boys, being freshmen, could not compete for any position, even had they so desired; but there was a good deal of electioneering among the cadets, and the lads got quite a lot of fun out of it. The announcement of who was elected was followed by a parade around the grounds and an unusually good supper in the mess hall. Then the boys were allowed to gather at one end of the parade ground near the river, where they soon had several large bonfires burning, around which they danced, sang, and cut up to their hearts' content. The election had been a bitter disappointment to Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell. Each had wanted to be an officer of the battalion, and each had failed to get the required number of votes. "It's that Gif Garrison-Spouter Powell crowd that did it," muttered Slugger Brown. "I saw 'em working like troopers to defeat us." "Yes. And those Rover boys worked against both of you, too," piped in Codfish, who was present. "I watched 'em do it. They went all around among the fellows they know electioneering for the others who were running." "It would be just like them to do it," muttered Nappy Martell, gloomily. "I thought you were going to fight that Jack Rover to a finish some day?" questioned the sneak of the school. "So I am--when I get the chance," returned Martell. As soon as the election of officers was settled, the minds of a certain number of cadets turned to football. Gif Garrison was busy arranging his teams and placing the names of the players up on a big board in the gymnasium. "Hurrah!" shouted Fred, bursting in on Jack one afternoon while the latter was busy in his room studying the next day's lessons. "Our names are up on the board, Jack! Gif has put us up for a try-out on the scrub eleven!" "Is that so!" exclaimed his cousin, his face showing his satisfaction. "Are you sure?" "I am. I just came from the gymnasium. We are to report for practice to-morrow afternoon at four o'clock." "Is Andy or Randy up?" "No. You remember they told Gif they didn't want to play football this season." The Rover boys soon learned that not only Gif but also Spouter, Ned Lowe, Walt Baxter, and Slugger Brown were on the regular eleven. The scrub team was made up largely from the freshmen class, although Dan Soppinger and a few others of the older cadets who had never played on the first team were also included. "Now, I want all of you to do your very best," said Gif, at the close of a long talk to the boys on what was required of them. "We'll have nothing but squad work first, and then a game or two just to find out how matters are shaping themselves." As an aid Gif had Mr. Crews, the gymnasium instructor, who in his younger days had been quite a football player. Between the pair matters took shape rapidly, and by the end of the week the scrub was in shape to play a game against the regulars. As was to be expected, this opening contest was a decidedly ragged one, even the regular team making many plays which caused hearty laughter. "You fellows have all got to do better if we want to win any matches," declared Gif. "Now then, go at it as if you meant it and see that you mind the rules." And after that the playing showed gradual improvement. Colonel Colby had not forgotten his own football days, and one afternoon he came down to the field to see what progress his pupils were making. "Be on the alert when the signals are given," he said. "The signals," he added, "count for a good deal." With the master of the school present, the cadets put forth renewed efforts and the playing became actually snappy. There were several well-earned runs, and once Jack managed to kick a goal from the field which brought forth considerable applause. "Keep it up, Jack! You're doing fine!" were Gif's encouraging words. "Thanks. I'll do the best I know how," was the rejoinder. Fred was also working hard, and a little later he made a run which netted the scrub team fifteen yards. "Fine! Fine!" cried his cousin encouragingly. "That was well played," announced Gif. "But I want every man on the field to do better than he has been doing," he added, stiffening up, for he knew that a captain can only get out of his men the best that is in them by thus urging them on. During several of the plays Jack had come into contact with Slugger Brown, and the big fellow showed that he had no friendly feeling for the Rover boy. "You be careful," warned Jack, when Brown started once to tackle him unfairly. But the big fellow merely grinned in a sarcastic fashion. Then, less than two minutes later and while there was a wild rush on, Slugger Brown, by a sidelong and unexpected leap, hurled Jack to the ground and spiked him in the leg with his shoe. CHAPTER XVIII SLUGGER BROWN IS EXPOSED To be thrown down so violently was bad enough, but to be spiked in the leg hurt so much that Jack could not repress a gasp of pain. "Get off of me, Brown!" he panted when he could speak. "What do you mean by spiking me that way?" "Didn't spike you!" retorted Slugger Brown, scowling viciously. The whistle blew and Gif came running towards the pair. "What's the matter?" he demanded. "Brown tackled me unfairly and then spiked me," answered Jack. "It's false!" roared the accused one. "I threw him down according to the rules and I didn't spike him at all!" The pain in Jack's leg was so intense that he could hardly stand. Fred and some others came rushing to his assistance, and between them he managed to hobble to a bench at the side of the football field. A crowd began to collect, and all wanted to know what had gone wrong. "Let us take a look at your leg, Rover," said Mr. Crews. "That will show whether you were spiked or not." The limb was exposed, and then a cry of dismay went up. "Why, look there--it's all bloody! Slugger Brown must have spiked him for keeps!" "That's a shame--if he did it on purpose. He has no right to have spikes in his shoes." "I didn't do it on purpose! It was an accident!" cried the accused player. "I didn't know I had spiked him or that I had spikes. Maybe he cut himself on a stone or something like that." "No; he has been spiked," announced the gymnasium instructor, after examining the wound. "Come, Rover; we'll go to the gymnasium and I'll attend to that and bind it up for you." "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Brown, for doing such a thing to my cousin," said Fred. "That's right!" broke in Randy, who had come up. "You stop your talking!" answered Slugger Brown, uneasily. "It was an accident, I tell you. Anybody on the team might have done it." Colonel Colby had been on the other side of the field, but now he came hurrying forward to see what was amiss. He told Mr. Crews to do everything that was necessary for Jack, and then turned to Gif. "I think it would be as well for you to retire Brown for the present," he said in a low voice. "Just what I was going to do," answered the football captain quickly. "We'll have to investigate this matter after the game is over." "I don't see why I should be put off the team!" cried Slugger Brown, when notified that a substitute would take his place. "It was an accident and nothing else." "We'll see about that later, Brown," answered Gif briefly. "Anyway, you had no right to have spikes on your shoes." With one substitute in place of Brown and another playing Jack's position, the game went on and came to a finish in favor of the regular team by a score of 22 to 16. "Not such a very good showing for the regulars," was Gif's comment. "Maybe, if Jack had been in shape to play, we might have beaten you," remarked Fred, grimly. "Oh, I'm not willing to admit that," answered the football captain. "Just the same, some of you fellows on the scrub did very well, indeed. I'm going to continue to keep my eyes on all of you." Down in the gymnasium the wound inflicted by the spikes in Slugger Brown's shoe had been carefully washed and dressed by Mr. Crews and then bandaged. "I don't think you'll have any great trouble from it, Rover," remarked the gymnasium instructor. "But, just the same, you had better favor that leg for a few days." "Then you wouldn't advise me to play football?" questioned Jack in dismay. "Not for the next few days. After that I think you'll be all right." As soon as the game was over, Gif, aided by Mr. Crews, began an investigation, closely questioning all of the players and those looking on who had seen the encounter between Brown and Jack. Of course, there were various versions of the affair, but the consensus of opinions seemed to be that the tackle had been an unfair one and that Brown could have avoided spiking Jack had he been more careful. It was likewise considered unfair to use spiked shoes even in a practice game. "I guess he did it just to be nasty," said Gif to Mr. Crews. "You see, he and Nappy Martell and that crowd are all down on the Rovers." "I know nothing about the quarrels between the cadets," was Mr. Crews' reply. "But I do know that spiking anyone on purpose cannot be permitted in this institution. I recommend, Garrison, that Brown be suspended from the team." This was going a little further than Gif had anticipated. He knew that Brown was a fairly good player, carrying considerable weight, and that the cadet's heart would be almost broken if he was taken out of the games entirely. "Don't you think, Mr. Crews, it would be going far enough if I put him on the bench with the substitutes?" he pleaded. "To be thrown out of the team entirely is a terrible blow for any one." "But we expect our cadets to act like young gentlemen and not like brutes, Garrison," returned the gymnastic instructor warmly. "However, if you wish to place Brown among the substitutes, I will not oppose you. His weight might help you to win some game if it was running very close and some of your best players dropped out." And so it was arranged. Slugger Brown had been very anxious to know what the outcome of the matter would be. He was far from appeased when he received the notification that, while he would be retained on the regular team, it would be only as a substitute. "A substitute, eh?" he said sarcastically to Gif. "So that is the way you are going to punish me for something that couldn't be helped." "Mr. Crews and I went into the details of the affair, Brown," answered the football captain. "Mr. Crews wanted to put you off the team entirely. It was only through my efforts that you are to remain as a substitute." "I've been the mainstay of our football eleven ever since it was organized!" stormed Slugger Brown. "I helped to win every victory that came our way." "I'm not denying that you play well. But, just the same, if you'll remember, you've been warned of your brutal attacks before. In that game with Hixley High last Fall, the left tackle said, if you will remember, that you ought to be handed over to the police. Now Mr. Crews says--and I agree with him--that we've got to play in a clean-cut fashion, free from all needless brutality." "Bah! I won't listen to you," howled Slugger Brown. "You're in with those Rovers, and that whole crowd is down on me just because I am chummy with Nappy Martell. I won't stand for it! If I can't play on the regular team, I won't play at all!" "Very well then, you can suit yourself about that," answered Gif; and to avoid further argument he walked away, leaving the big youth in anything but a pleasant frame of mind. The interview had taken place in the gymnasium, and presently Slugger Brown was joined by Nappy Martell and three or four other cronies, including Codfish. "It's an outrage!" was Martell's comment, when Slugger had told of what had occurred. "I wouldn't stand for it! No wonder you told him you wouldn't play on the eleven any more." "A team that has got a captain like that doesn't deserve to win," was the comment of one of the other cadets. "Say, Slugger, why don't you get to work and see if you can't boost Gif Garrison out of his place? He has no more right to be captain of the eleven than you have." "Easy enough to say," growled Brown. "But Garrison has too many of the fellows under his thumb. Oh, I don't care--they can go to grass with their old football games!" And then Slugger Brown stalked off by himself to nurse his wrath as best he could. He was very bitter against Jack. "It's all that Rover boy's fault," he muttered to himself. "I don't wonder Nappy is down on that crowd." The recent cold snap had given way to weather that was quite balmy; and, being unable to put in his off time in football practice, Jack remembered what he had said to Ruth Stevenson about a row on the river. He consulted with Fred, and then the pair managed to get a message to both Ruth and May Powell; and in return received word that the two girls would be pleased to go out the following afternoon about four o'clock. "Gee! you fellows will have a dandy time," remarked Randy, when he heard of this. "Why didn't you let us know?" "Four in one of those rowboats is about enough," answered Jack. "But if you and Andy want to go out, why don't you get another boat and send word to a couple of the other girls?" "All right! Let's do it," answered Andy, quickly; and the upshot of the matter was that they telephoned over to Clearwater Hall and made an arrangement with Alice Strobell and Annie Larkins. "It's a shame we can't ask Jennie Mason, too," said Randy, who remembered the fifth girl who had been in the crowd at the moving picture theater. "You won't have to worry about Jennie," answered Alice Strobell, over the telephone. "She has a date with somebody else." The Rover boys had already arranged about the boats, and promptly on time they set off down the river in the direction of the lake. They had to row past the several docks of the town, and then drew up at a small wharf, leading up to the Clearwater Hall grounds. When the girls appeared, they were accompanied by one of the teachers, who had been sent down, evidently, for the purpose of looking the cadets over. "Now remember, do not stay out any later than six o'clock," said the teacher, as the girls were entering the two rowboats, assisted by the boys. "Oh, we'll have to come back a little before that time," answered Jack. "You see, we are due at Colby Hall at that hour." "Very well then," said the teacher. "I trust you all have a pleasant time," and she smiled. "Oh, we'll have a good time--don't worry," sang out Andy, gaily. "To be sure we will," echoed May Powell. And then, with the girls safely seated in the two rowboats, the boys took up the oars, and the little outing on Clearwater Lake was begun. CHAPTER XIX A SQUALL ON THE LAKE "It's too bad we don't happen to have a motor boat up here," remarked Jack, as he and Fred bent to the oars of their rowboat. "You mustn't work too hard," came from Ruth. "I wasn't thinking of that," answered the oldest Rover boy quickly. "I was only thinking if we had a motor boat we could go farther." "They are going to have a motor boat or two at Colby Hall next Spring--I heard Colonel Colby speaking about it," put in Fred. "That will be very fine," remarked May. "I suppose you'll give us a ride once in a while?" she added, her eyes twinkling. "Sure!" responded the youngest Rover, quickly. "Hi--over there!" came from Andy, as he and his twin bent to the oars. "Want to race?" "Of course--if you'd like to!" responded Jack. "Oh, a race!" exclaimed Alice Strobell. "Won't that be fine!" "There won't be any danger, will there?" questioned Annie Larkins, anxiously. "No danger whatever, so long as we keep far enough apart," answered Randy. "And we'll do that, because we expect to leave them far behind." "Not much you won't leave us behind!" retorted Fred. And then he added: "Are you ready?" "Wait a minute until we have the young ladies seated just right," answered Andy. And then, turning to the two girls in the boat with him, he continued gaily: "Now sit right in the center of the boat, please; and be sure to have your hair parted exactly in the middle;" and at this both girls shrieked with laughter. With their passengers seated to their satisfaction, the four Rovers prepared for the race. "Where are we going to race to?" questioned Jack. "I don't know," answered Randy. "Can any of you tell me?" he went on, appealing to the pupils from Clearwater Hall. "You might race to the near end of Foxtail Island," suggested Ruth, and pointed to an island some distance down the lake. "That suits!" cried Jack. "The first one to reach the dock at the end of the island wins the race," announced May. "And what's the prize?" questioned Fred. "Oh, the prize will be the pleasure of rowing back," answered May, and at this little joke there was a general laugh. "Now please don't tip us overboard," pleaded Alice. "Nary a tip," answered Randy. "We're not looking for tips," broke in Andy, quickly. "We are going to do this free, gratis, for nothing," and at this pun there was another laugh. Then Jack gave the signal, and away the two rowboats started on the race. Of course, it was only a friendly affair, and none of the boys rowed as hard as he would have done in a regular contest. Nevertheless, each craft made good progress over the sparkling waters of the lake. "Oh, my! you certainly can row," remarked Ruth to Jack and Fred, as their craft drew ahead. "Oh, we're not warmed up yet," was Jack's reply. "We could do much better if we were in regular rowing togs," explained Fred. "Hi you! What do you mean by going ahead?" piped out Randy. "Come on, Andy, or they'll beat us." "Maybe they can beat a drum, but they can't beat us," cried Andy. And then he and his twin increased their strokes so that presently their boat was once more beside the other. The girls were as much interested as the boys in the impromptu race, and they soon began to shout words of encouragement. "Pull! pull! we're going to win!" cried May. "Not a bit of it! Our boat will get there first!" sang out Alice. "You can't beat us!" came from Annie. "He crows best who crows last," cried Ruth. "Right you are!" came pantingly from Jack; and then, as he saw the look of encouragement in Ruth's face, he redoubled his efforts. Fred did the same, and when they came into plain view of the tiny dock at the end of Foxtail Island their boat was two full lengths ahead of the other. "Hi you! What kind of a race is this, anyhow?" shouted out Andy, gaily. "Why don't you keep side by side and be sociable?" "Sour grapes!" roared Fred. "Here is where we win!" and in a moment more he and Jack sent their boat up to the side of the little dock. Almost immediately the second craft followed. "I think all of you did very well," remarked Ruth, consolingly. "Anyway, we came in a close second," remarked Randy. "We would have won if it hadn't been for one thing--just one thing," remarked Andy, solemnly. "Why, what was that?" questioned several of the others quickly. "That was the fact that the other boat"--Andy drew a deep breath--"came in first." At this the girls shrieked with laughter and the other boys set up a howl. "Pitch him into the lake!" "That's right! Give him a bath!" "A ducking will do him good--he needs to be cooled off!" "Not much! No bath for me!" cried Andy, quickly, and lost no time in leaping to the dock, where, in the exuberance of his spirits, he turned several handsprings, much to the amusement of the girls. "Is there anything worth seeing on this island?" questioned Jack, when the excitement of the race was over. "There isn't anything here that I know of," answered Ruth. "In the summer time people come here to picnic. There is a nice spring of water in the center of the island." "Let's go and get a drink," said Fred. "That race made me thirsty;" and off the whole party trooped to the spring. The young folks had a good time at the spring and in exploring the little island, which had a hill at one end covered with trees. They found some chestnuts and also a few hickory nuts, and these the boys opened for the girls' benefit. "I suppose we had better go on and finish the row," remarked Jack to Ruth, presently. "That is, unless you girls would rather wander through the woods." "Oh, it's nice enough here on the island," she answered. "Remember, you'll have quite a row back to the school and then to Colby Hall." "Oh, let's stay here for a while," put in Alice. "Maybe we'll be able to find more nuts." They hunted around, and presently discovered another large chestnut tree which was fairly loaded. The boys threw up sticks and stones, and brought down a big shower. "If I had known this, we might have brought along a pillowcase for the nuts," said Fred. "We can come back some day if we want to," returned Randy. Before leaving the island the young folks decided to go back to where the spring was located, so as to get another drink and also to wash their hands. On this trip, in speaking about the excitement at the moving picture theater, Randy chanced to mention Jennie Mason's name. "Jennie is a nice girl," answered Annie Larkins, to whom he was speaking, "but she does some things that I do not approve of. Do you know a cadet at your Hall named Napoleon Martell--I think they call him Nappy for short?" "Do we know him!" exclaimed Randy. "I should say we did!" "Oh! is that so?" Annie looked at him searchingly. "Is he a friend of yours?" "No; I can't say that he is. To tell you the truth, he doesn't like us at all." "If that's the case, I don't mind speaking to you about Jennie," went on the girl. "You know, Jennie comes from New York City. And down there she met Nappy Martell quite a few times, and they became well acquainted. But Jennie's folks don't approve of him at all; and they don't want her to go with him." And here Annie paused. "And do you mean to say she does go with him, anyhow?" queried the Rover boy. "Yes. She goes out to meet him whenever she can get the chance," was the reply. "You are sure you don't approve of him?" "Not in the least. In fact, to tell the truth, we have no use for him or the bunch he trains with." "I see. Well, all of us think it is perfectly dreadful the way Jennie accepts Martell's invitations. Of course, we don't want to tell on her, either in school or to her folks, and yet none of us think it is right." "Does he take her out much?" "Oh, as much as they dare to go. He takes her out sailing on the lake and to the moving picture shows, and once they went off together on a picnic to the Clearwater Country Club. The places were all right in themselves, but I know Jennie's folks don't want her to be seen in the company of Nappy Martell. He is so loud and forward." "You can't tell us anything about Martell being loud and forward," answered Randy, readily. "We all know him to be a regular bully. Besides that, when he isn't in uniform, he wears the loudest kind of clothes--just as if he wanted to make an exhibition of himself." "Jennie went out with him this afternoon," continued Annie. "Where they went to, I do not know. But I think they hired a motor boat and went across the lake." "Does Martell know how to run a motor boat?" "Oh, yes. He told Jennie that he owned a motor boat on the Hudson River--a boat his father gave him for a birthday present." Randy and the girl had dropped a little behind the others, who now waited for them to come up. "I think we had better be getting back," said Jack. "It isn't as clear as it was before, and it is beginning to blow." "Yes, we'll get back," returned Randy, with a look at the sky. He knew that a blow on the lake might be no trifling matter. On the way over to the island the sun had been clear and warm. Now, however, it was hidden under a dark bank of clouds, which were coming up quickly from the west. The wind was already blowing freely, and out on the bosom of the lake the water was roughing up in tiny ripples. "All aboard, everybody!" sang out Jack. And then turning to his cousins he added in a low voice: "We mustn't lose a minute of time in getting back. This blow is going to be a heavy one." The girls were soon seated in the rowboats, and then the four Rovers lost no time in casting off from the little dock and in starting to row towards Clearwater Hall. As they proceeded, the sky kept growing darker and darker while the wind grew stronger and stronger. "We're in for a squall all right enough," murmured Randy, as he and Andy bent to their oars with vigor. "Gee! I only hope we can reach the shore before it strikes us," was the response. "Row for all you're worth, boys!" sang out Jack from the other boat. "Bend to it just as if you were in a race!" And then he and Fred, as well as the twins, settled down to the task of trying to outrace the oncoming squall. CHAPTER XX IN GREAT PERIL As those who have had any experience know, a squall on a lake encircled by hills sometimes comes up very quickly, and this is what happened in the present case. Hardly had the two rowboats covered a quarter of the distance to the shore, when the wind came whistling across the bosom of the lake, sending the whitecaps tumbling in all directions. "Oh, dear, just look how rough the water is getting!" remarked Ruth in alarm. "And how the wind is blowing!" added May. In the other boat the girls were even more fearful, and Andy and Randy had all they could do to make them sit still. "Don't shift," pleaded Randy. "We don't want to ship any water." "Oh, dear! If only we were safe on shore!" wailed Alice. "I didn't think it looked like a storm when we left the school," added Annie, in dismay. "This is only a squall. It may blow itself out in a few minutes," returned Randy, although to himself he admitted that the squall looked as though it might last for some time. Battling as best they could against the wind and the whitecaps, the Rover boys strove to reach the shore in the vicinity of the girls' school. But the wind was blowing directly down Clearwater Lake and threatened more than once to capsize them. "Gee, Jack, this is getting serious!" panted Fred, as he looked questioningly at his cousin. The same thought had come into the minds of each of the boys. Could the girls swim? They wished they knew, but did not dare to ask any questions for fear of further alarming their passengers. "I guess we had better head up into the wind. It's the safest thing to do," cried Jack. And then, raising his voice to be heard above the whistling of the elements, he added: "Head up! Don't take those waves sideways! Head up!" The others understood, and in a minute more both of the boats were heading directly into the wind. This prevented either of the craft from swamping, but caused the spray to hit the bow more than once, sending a shower of water over everybody. "Oh, dear! I'm getting wet!" wailed May. "Do you think you can reach shore?" questioned Ruth of Jack; and her wide-open eyes showed her terror. "We can't head for the school just now," he answered. "We'll have to keep pulling up against the wind until it lets up a little." "Oh, but we sha'n't upset, shall we?" came from Spouter Powell's cousin. "I don't think so. Anyway, we are going to do our best to prevent it," answered Fred. Keeping as close together as they dared, the two rowboats continued to head up into the wind, which still blew as hard as ever. In the sky the clouds were shifting, and Jack and his cousins had great hopes that ere long the sudden squall would blow itself out. "Here comes a motor boat up behind us!" cried Ruth, presently. All looked in that direction and saw a fair-sized craft coming up the lake. She was making good speed in spite of the whitecaps, and was sending the spray flying in all directions. "I think that is the boat Jennie Mason was going out in," remarked Annie to Randy. "Yes; I am sure it is," she added a minute later, as the motor boat came closer. "There is Mr. Martell at the wheel now." The discovery that Nappy Martell was running the oncoming motor boat had also been made by those occupying the other rowboat. "It's Martell! And there is Slugger Brown with him!" cried Fred. "Isn't one of those girls Miss Mason?" questioned Jack. "Yes. And Ida Brierley, one of our girls, is with her," answered Ruth. Her manner indicated that the discovery did not altogether please her. "Maybe we can get that motor boat to pull us in," suggested May. "They could do it easily enough." "So they could," answered Fred. "But I doubt if those two fellows who are running it would like to undertake the job. They go to Colby Hall, but they are no friends of ours." "Yes, but they ought not to let their enmity stand between us in a time like this," said Jack. "If they were in the rowboats and I was in the motor boat, I'd give them help quick enough." As the motor boat drew nearer, it prepared to pass close to the craft manned by Jack and Fred. As it came closer, Jennie Mason gave a cry of surprise. "Oh, look! look! There are those Rover boys, and some of our girls are with them!" "I'm glad I am not out in a rowboat," said Ida Brierley. "I'd be afraid of getting a good ducking." "Ahoy there, on the motor boat!" sang out Fred, as the craft came alongside. "Can't you fellows give us a tow? We have plenty of rope." "This motor boat wasn't built for towing," answered Nappy Martell, roughly. "We're having a terrible time of it against this wind," put in Jack. He would not have asked for assistance on his own account, but he was thinking of the girls. He knew that all of them were badly frightened. "Oh, yes! please tow us in!" came from May. "Yes! please do!" added Ruth. "It's so far to the shore!" came from Annie. "And we're afraid we'll get wet through and through!" cried Alice. "You ought to do something for them," declared Jennie Mason, who had herself become frightened over the roughness of the lake. "I'm not going to tow those Rovers in," muttered Nappy Martell. "You wouldn't do it, would you, Slugger?" "Not much! Let 'em take care of themselves," was the heartless answer. "Oh! but they may be drowned!" gasped Jennie. "Nothing of the sort. This is only a little wind, and it will soon die down. If those Rovers have to break their backs rowing, it will do 'em good!" "If you don't tow us in, you'll be the meanest fellow on earth," sang out Andy. "I wouldn't have your disposition for a million dollars," added his twin. "Aw! go chase yourselves!" retorted Slugger Brown, heartlessly. "We're not helping fellows like you," came from Nappy Martell. Then the motor boat passed on and was soon all but lost in the distance. "Of all the mean people!" cried Ruth. "I shouldn't think Jennie Mason would stand for such meanness," declared May. "Nor Ida Brierley, either." The motor boat having gone on and left them to their fate, the Rover boys continued pulling on the oars. It was hard, laborious work, and soon Andy and Fred were all but exhausted. Jack and Randy, however, had now gotten their second wind, so to speak, and they continued their efforts with unabated vigor. "It was as mean as dirt for them to leave us out here when they could have towed us in with ease," panted Fred. "Just you wait--I'll let the whole school know of this!" "Don't talk! Save your wind. We can talk afterwards," returned his cousin. The next quarter of an hour was one which none of the girls or boys ever forgot. The Rovers continued to battle with the wind and the waves with all the energy left to them, while the girls crouched down on the seats almost speechless with fear. Occasionally, the waves would hit the bow of one rowboat or the other, sending a shower of water over the occupants. "I--think--it's--letting up--a--bit," panted Jack, presently, and glanced up at the sky. "Oh, if only it would!" breathed Ruth. The boat containing the others had dropped slightly behind, but now Jack and Fred held back until it was once more alongside. "Oh, did you ever see such a storm!" wailed Alice. "I don't think I'll ever want to go out in a rowboat again," was Annie's bitter comment. "I think the wind is beginning to die down," said Ruth, encouragingly. "Let--us--hope--so," came in jerks from Jack. He was still rowing, but his arms felt as if they were being torn from their sockets. They had now covered nearly half the distance to the upper end of the lake, but they were just as far from the western shore as ever. Now, however, as the wind began to die down, they turned slightly in the direction of Haven Point. "It won't matter where we land," declared Ruth. "We can easily walk back to the school." The sun was still under a cloud, but now the wind went down more than ever. The surface of the lake, however, was still much troubled, and the boys had all they could do to make any progress towards the shore. "Oh, you must be very tired!" said Ruth to Jack. "Never--mind--we'll--reach--shore--somehow," he answered. Then she said no more, because she knew it was painful for him to speak. The four boys continued to row on, and in about a quarter of an hour came within plain view of the shore, at a point some distance beyond Clearwater Hall and the town. "Oh, look! Something is the matter down by the lumber yards," remarked Alice, presently. "See the men running!" She pointed, and those in both rowboats looked in that direction. "I don't see anything wrong," said Ruth. "I do!" cried May, and gave a little shriek. "Look! look! A whole lot of lumber is drifting this way!" "Some--thing--broken--lose," gasped Jack. "Maybe--a--lumber--raft." And that was just what had happened. In a manner to be explained later, a lumber raft being towed up the lake by a steam tug had not only broken away, but likewise had broken apart, and the timbers which had composed it were now floating around over a large area of Clearwater Lake. In another minute the two rowboats were in the very midst of the drifting timbers and in great danger of being upset. CHAPTER XXI ASSISTANCE REFUSED "My gracious! look at the lumber floating around!" "Be careful, boys! Don't get hit if you can help it!" "One of those timbers is heavy enough to send us to the bottom!" "Oh, dear! Do you think we'll be smashed up?" Such were some of the cries which rent the air as the Rover boys and the girls with them found themselves in the midst of the wreckage from the broken-apart lumber raft. On all sides of them heavy sticks of timber were bobbing up and down on the whitecaps, and presently one of these bumped into the craft occupied by Jack and Fred and two of the girls. The rowboat careened so much that quite a large quantity of water was shipped, which made Ruth and May scream in fright. "Stand up in the bow, Fred, and see if you--can--ward--them--off!" gasped Jack as well as his semi-exhausted condition would permit. "I'll stick to--the--oars." He knew he must keep the rowboat headed up into the wind, for the squall had not yet subsided sufficiently to allow of their taking it sidewise. A moment later came a cry from the other rowboat as the craft slipped up and over several large sticks of timber. [Illustration: THE CRAFT SLIPPED UP AND OVER SEVERAL LARGE STICKS OF TIMBER. _Page_ 207] "Gosh! that was a narrow escape!" was Andy's comment, as the craft finally righted itself. "Oh, dear! if only we were on shore once more!" wailed Annie, for at least the tenth time. "I never dreamed that we would have such a dreadful experience as this!" came from Alice. Randy said nothing, but continued to row, while Andy did the same as Fred was doing, both trying their best to ward off the heavy sticks which came floating towards them every minute or two. Not far away was a steam tug, and presently two other boats came from the shore, both bent upon saving all that was possible of the broken-apart lumber raft. "We'll pick you up if you have much trouble," cried the captain of the steam tug, as he ran a course between the two rowboats. "But don't ask us to do it unless it's necessary, for we want to round up this floating lumber before it gets away from us, if it can be done." "Thank you!" gasped out Jack, in return. "Maybe we can--make--the--shore. The wind seems--to--be--going--down." "Sure, we'll make it!" put in Randy. The fright of the girls in his boat had somewhat nettled him and he was resolved to land them safely without assistance. But it was a time of peril as well as exhausting effort; and all of the Rovers were glad enough when the last of the drifting lumber was passed and they came within hailing distance of the shore. The wind had now gone down considerably, and most of this was to be felt farther out on the lake. "Let us take them right down to the school dock," sang out Randy. "We can turn down the lake, and the wind will be just strong enough to help us;" and so it was arranged. When the two rowboats came within sight of the school dock, those on board found fully a dozen of the scholars there, along with two of the teachers. "Are you safe?" cried one of the teachers, as soon as the boats came within hailing distance. "Yes, Miss Glover. We are all right," answered Ruth. "Only we are rather wet," added May. "And I'm awfully glad to get back," broke in Annie, who was fairly shivering over her trying experience. "Well, anyway, I think you cadets did perfectly splendid," remarked Alice. "Indeed they did!" broke out Ruth, quickly. "I don't believe anyone could have managed these boats better;" and she bestowed a glance of admiration first on Jack and then on his cousins. "It was a terrible blow, and it came up so quickly that we all grew alarmed for your safety," said Miss Glover. "And then to think that you must get mixed up with that drifting lumber!" put in the other teacher. "The squall was bad enough without having anything like that happen." "It's too bad the lumbermen had their big raft go apart like that," was Jack's comment. "I guess those big sticks of timber are worth a good deal of money." "They couldn't have had the raft chained together very tightly," said Miss Glover, who had come from a lumbering community where rafting was frequent. "I never heard of a raft going to pieces like that." "Well, I don't know much about lumber rafts," answered Jack. "Say, can't we leave our two rowboats here and ride back to the Hall?" questioned Randy. "I don't want to do any more rowing if I can help it." "Of course you can leave your boats here," answered Miss Glover, and she showed where the craft might be stowed away in the boathouse. All of the Rovers were glad enough to give up further work at the oars. "I am awfully sorry our little outing turned out as it did," remarked Jack to Ruth. "And it was too bad to frighten you so," added Randy, to all of the girls. "Oh, it wasn't your fault that the squall came up," answered Ruth. "And, besides that, now it is over I think I rather enjoyed the adventure--that is. I'll enjoy telling about it," she corrected. "Some day I hope we'll be able to spend a nicer time together," said Jack. "Perhaps," murmured Ruth, and blushed. Before the Rovers left for Colby Hall, they asked if Jennie Mason and Ida Brierley had returned. "They have not come back yet," answered one of the teachers. "We saw them going up the lake against the wind. We were a little bit worried, but I presume the motor boat can take care of itself in quite a blow." "All they've got to do is to turn on the gasolene, while in a rowboat sometimes a fellow's muscles give out," was Andy's comment, and this caused a smile. After bidding the girls and the others good-bye, the four Rovers walked towards the town. There they were fortunate enough to find the Hall auto-stage, and were soon at the school once more. "Gee! but my arms ache!" was Fred's remark on the way. "The muscles hurt so I can hardly keep still." "You'd better bathe them well with witch hazel or alcohol," returned Jack. "My muscles feel sore, too." "It took the wind right out of me," came from Andy. "Funny, too--with so much wind all around," he added merrily. "I can't help but think of how Martell and Brown treated us," said Randy, seriously. "It was as mean as dirt!" "I believe they would have left us there to drown!" added Fred. "Oh, I wouldn't like to think that of them," broke in Jack. "Just the same, it was a very dirty thing to do. Not on our account so much as on account of the girls." When the boys got back, the first person they met was Spouter, who wanted to know how his cousin May had enjoyed the outing. He listened in some alarm to the story the Rovers had to relate. "It was a narrow shave all right," was the comment. And then his face took on a stern look. "And to think Nappy Martell and Slugger Brown treated you that way! Those fellows ought to be run out of this school!" The squall on the lake had been noticed by some of the other cadets who had been out on the river; and the news soon spread of the danger into which the Rovers and their companions had run. Gif, Ned, Walt, and several others wanted to know the particulars of the affair, and all were loud in their denunciation of the cadets who had been running the motor boat. "Spouter is right!" declared Gif. "Those fellows ought to be run out of Colby Hall!" "After this I want nothing more to do with them!" added Ned. "I wonder what they would say if some of you had been drowned," remarked Walt. "Makes me want to pitch into 'em," came from Fatty, who was present. "But then, in one way, it's a pity to dirty one's hands on such cattle as that." Of course, the Rover boys had come in late for supper. Professor Lemm had started to find fault with Andy and Fred for this, but he was quickly stopped by Colonel Colby, who had come up to learn the particulars of what had occurred. "I heard you were out in that big blow," remarked the colonel. "I trust none of you suffered from it." "Well, we had rather a narrow escape," answered Fred. Then he and Andy gave a brief outline of what had happened, not forgetting to mention how Martell and Brown had left them to their fate. "Too bad! too bad!" murmured the colonel, shaking his head slightly. "I did not think that any of our cadets would do such a thing;" and then he walked away in a very thoughtful mood. "I wonder what he'll say to Brown and Martell," mused Fred, as, after being dismissed by Professor Lemm, they hurried to the mess hall. As they were late, they had missed the parade. "Maybe he'll give 'em a piece of his mind. I hope he does," answered his cousin. Nappy Martell and Slugger Brown did not appear until supper was almost over. Both had a gloomy look, as if something had gone decidedly wrong. They glared sourly at the Rover boys and their chums, and then sat down to their meal without saying a word to anybody. "I'll wager something slipped a cog with them," whispered Fred to Jack. "I've got an idea," returned the oldest of the Rover boys. "Maybe Jennie Mason and that other girl who were out in the motor boat gave them a piece of their mind for not aiding us." "Oh, I hope they did, Jack!" "It wouldn't be anything to wonder at. That Jennie Mason seemed to be a nice girl, and I don't think she would stand for any such meanness." Jack's surmise concerning what had happened to Nappy and Slugger was correct. The two girls had pleaded with the two cadets to go back and give those in the rowboats aid. And after much argument, in which Nappy and Slugger had proved that they were anything but young gentlemen, the girls had politely asked to be taken ashore. This had brought on something of a quarrel, and in the end the two cadets had taken the girls to a dock near the lumber yards and quite a distance from Clearwater Hall. "Now you can have the fun of walking to the school," had been Nappy Martell's final words. "And I don't think you'll go out with us again in a hurry," Slugger Brown had added. "I'll never go out with you again," Ida Brierley had answered. "And I'd much prefer to walk to the school alone than to ride any further with you in the motor boat," Jennie Mason had added; and thus the four had parted, the two girls resolving in their hearts never to have anything more to do with Nappy Martell and Slugger Brown. CHAPTER XXII THE MEETING WITH HIXLEY HIGH Football talk now filled the air at Colby Hall, and for the time being most of the cadets forgot about how the Rovers had been treated on the lake by Nappy Martell and Slugger Brown. Nappy was particularly angry, because of the way he had been treated by Jennie Mason, on whom he had been sweet ever since they had become acquainted. Slugger, too, was hurt over what the girls had said about his meanness. But he was far more put out over the fact that he could act only as a substitute on the regular eleven, and that Gif Garrison had finally concluded to put Jack in his place. Fred had not won out for the first eleven, but Gif had told him he stood so high on the scrub that he might possibly make the team before the season came to an end. "It's all those Rovers' fault," growled Slugger Brown to Martell. "Of course it is!" was the unreasonable reply. "I'll tell you, Slug, we ought to do something to get square with those chaps." "If I break loose and do that, it'll be something they'll remember as long as they live!" declared Slugger Brown, vehemently. Nappy Martell looked at his crony knowingly, and then glanced around to see if anybody was listening. "Let's do it right now, Slug," he said in a low voice. "I don't care what it is, so long as we can get the best of those Rovers." "We'll think it over, Nap. This isn't to be any one-cent, every-day affair, you know." "Right you are! I'm game for anything--just remember that!" added the other cadet. As Gif Garrison had said, there were three football games scheduled for Colby Hall that Fall. The first of these was to be with Hixley High School, located in a town at the other end of the lake. Then would follow a game of more importance with the Clearwater Country Club, at their beautiful grounds on the outskirts of Haven Point. And then the last and most important game of all--that with Columbus Academy, located about ten miles away. Whether the last named game would be played at Colby Hall or at the Columbus Academy grounds, was still a question. In a few days Jack recovered completely from the spiking he had received from Slugger Brown, and then he went at his football practice with greater vigor than ever. He took Slugger's place on the regular eleven, as already mentioned, and in his first game they beat the scrub team by a score of 32 to 12. "Now, that's better!" declared Gif. "You didn't let the scrub walk all over you." Fred had been on the scrub team, and, although that eleven had been defeated, he was in a rather happy frame of mind, for the reason that out of the twelve points scored he had been directly responsible for six points. "I think Fred is going some," remarked Jack to Gif, later on when he had a chance to speak to the football captain privately. "You're right, Jack," was the answer. "And I've got my eye on him." The game with Hixley High was not a very important one, yet it was made the occasion for quite a gala day by not only the boys of both schools but likewise the girls attending the high school and also the young ladies of Clearwater Hall. The Rover boys and some of their chums invited Ruth and her several friends, including Jennie Mason and Ida Brierley, to be present, and this invitation was gladly accepted. "I don't wonder that Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell look so glum occasionally," remarked Spouter to Jack the day after the invitations had been given and accepted. "I just had a talk with my cousin May, and she says Jennie Mason and Ida Brierley are through with those two cadets. They told Nappy and Slugger they thought they were nothing but cowards for the way they treated you Rovers on the lake." "Well, I'm glad they've given up going with that pair," announced Jack. The last game with Hixley High had been played on the grounds of that institution, so that the game this year was to take place at Colby Hall. "You fellows will have the honor of bringing the girls over from Clearwater Hall," remarked Jack to his cousins and his chums. "I'll have to stay here and do a bit of practising." The auto-stage and a number of automobiles and carriages had been requisitioned, and also a number of motor boats on the lake, and in these the young folks from Hixley High School and from Clearwater Hall journeyed to Colby Hall. Jack was on the lookout for Ruth and the others, and lost no time in greeting the girl as soon as she appeared. "I'm so glad that you're on hand to encourage us to win," said he, as he took Ruth's hand. "Thank you. But how are you sure I am here to encourage you?" she questioned mischievously. "Maybe I'm going to root for Hixley High." "You dare!" he returned earnestly, and then they both laughed and hurried towards the grandstand, where seats had been reserved for the entire party. "Whoop her up for Hixley High!" was the cry. And then those in favor of the high school took up the slogan: "Do or die! Hixley High! Hixley High!" "They mean to win if yelling will do it," was May Powell's comment. "Oh, I guess the cadets of Colby Hall can yell, too," responded Fred. And he was right, for a moment later there boomed out this refrain: "Who are we? Can't you see? Colby Hall! Dum! Dum! Dum, dum, dum! Here we come with fife and drum! Colby! Colby! Colby Hall!" And this the cadets repeated over and over again until they were hoarse. "Well, I've got to go now," said Jack, reluctantly, as word came for the team to gather in the dressing room for final instructions. "Good-bye then," said Ruth, sweetly. And then, looking Jack full in the eyes, she added earnestly: "Oh, I do hope you'll win!" They were simple words, but the way in which they were spoken, and the look that accompanied them, thrilled the youth to the heart, and he went down to the dressing room on feet that seemed to be walking on air. "Now then, boys, I expect every one of you to do his level best," said Gif. "Hixley High has been bragging everywhere that it has a superior team this year and is going to walk all over us. I want you to play with vigor from the very start;" and then followed a number of directions concerning plays and signals, to all of which his eleven listened earnestly. When the Colby Hall team came forth, they were given a loud round of applause, and this was repeated when Hixley High showed itself. The high school boys were nearly all seniors, and a glance sufficed to show that, player for player, they were quite a few pounds heavier than the cadets. "If our eleven wins this game they will be going some," was Fatty's whispered comment to a fellow cadet. "You're right there," was the answer. "Those chaps certainly look pretty husky." It is not my intention here to give the particulars of this game with Hixley High, interesting as it proved to be. It was not the big game of the season--that was to come later. During the first quarter, the playing on both sides was rather rough and ragged, each school doing its best to wear its opponent out at the very start. In these onslaughts the weight carried by Hixley High told, so that when the whistle blew the score was 6 to 3. "Hurrah! Hurrah!" came from the supporters of the high school. And again and again they boomed out with their slogan. "This game isn't over yet!" cried one of the followers of Colby Hall. "We haven't begun to play yet! Just watch us in the second half!" added another cadet. "Oh, dear! I thought Colby Hall would score, sure!" pouted Ruth. "Those Hixley High boys are awfully big fellows," answered May. The second quarter opened with a good deal of cheering for each side. The playing now became more settled, and the ball went back and forth from the 20-yard line on one side to the 30-yard line on the other. Then came a mix-up, in the midst of which Jack managed to get the ball and start with it for the goal. "Rover has it!" "Run, Jack, run! Leg it for all you're worth!" And Jack did run, making the best of his opportunity. Three of the Hixley High players did their utmost to down him, but when the third laid him low, he was directly over the chalk mark. "A touchdown!" was the cry from the Colby Hall cadets. And then they gave vent to their feelings by tooting their horns and sounding their rattles. The touchdown was followed by a skilful kick for goal, and with this in their favor, Colby Hall went at the game with renewed vigor, so that when the whistle blew for the ending of the second half the score stood 13 to 6 in favor of Colby Hall. "That's the way to do it!" "Keep it up, boys!" "Oh, wasn't that a splendid run by Jack?" cried Ruth, enthusiastically. "It certainly was!" answered one of the other girls. With the score piling up against them, Hixley High grew fairly frantic in the third quarter. As a consequence, their play became rougher than ever, and twice they had to be called to order, and once they were penalized. But their vigor told, and in spite of all Colby Hall could do to hold them back, they gained constantly, and when the end of the third quarter was reached the score was a tie. "Thirteen to thirteen! What do you think of that?" "Some playing, eh?" Each side cheered its own, but many were the anxious faces when the two elevens lined up for the final quarter. "Now then, boys, dig into them!" cried Mr. Crews, earnestly. "Show them what Colby Hall can do!" "Watch 'em--watch 'em closely!" cautioned Gif. "They may try to pull off some new stunt at the last minute." Once more the two teams went at it "hammer and tongs." It was certainly a battle royal, and on more than one occasion it looked as if some of the players might be seriously injured. As it was, Hixley High had to put in one substitute, and Colby Hall took on two. But the fighting blood of the cadets was now up, and with a great rush they carried the ball over the Hixley High line. They failed, however, to kick the goal, much to the regret of their followers. "Never mind, boys," said Gif, encouragingly. "Hold 'em now! That is all I ask of you--hold 'em!" And hold them Colby did, although the high school lads fought like demons to carry the ball across the cadets' territory. Back and forth went the play, the crowd meanwhile yelling itself hoarse. The ball was on the Colby Hall 15-yard line when the whistle blew and the game was over. "Colby Hall wins!" "Hurrah! Hurrah!" Then the horns and rattles sounded out louder than ever, and in a twinkling the football field was alive with visitors, and the triumphant eleven was surrounded. CHAPTER XXIII TARGET PRACTICE Colby Hall prepared for a great celebration that night in honor of their victory over Hixley High. Boxes and barrels had been stored away in anticipation of just such an occasion, and these were brought out and stacked up at a safe place along the river front. "Bonfires to-night--and big ones, too!" cried Andy, and let off his surplusage of spirits by turning several handsprings. "Look out, Andy!" cried Fred, "or some circus will capture you." "Sour grapes!" retorted the fun-loving youth. "Oh, it was grand--the way you held Hixley High back in that last quarter!" remarked Ruth to Jack. "I was so afraid they would break through and score, I could hardly wait for the whistle to blow." "It was certainly some game!" answered Jack. "You see, they are so much heavier than we are." The victorious eleven came in for all sorts of congratulations, and Jack was slapped on the back until the wind was almost knocked out of him. As soon as he could escape from his friends, he and the others took the girls down to a waiting automobile and set off for Clearwater Hall. On the way the young folks sang and cut up to their hearts' content, having the best possible time. The only cadet at Colby Hall who was not elated over the victory was Slugger Brown. Even though two substitutes had been used in the game, and even though the big fellow had repented of his former decision, and agreed to play if called upon, Gif had ignored him and used a player at least ten pounds lighter in weight. "He doesn't intend to give me a show--and that's all there is to it," remarked Slugger to Nappy Martell, bitterly. "Well, you told him you wouldn't play unless you could go out at the start of the game," answered his crony. "I told him that first, but afterwards I agreed to go in as a sub," growled Brown. "But I can see how it is--those Rovers have told Garrison how we acted on the lake, and so Garrison has made up his mind to ignore me entirely, even though I've got the weight and can play as good as any of them." "Oh, I don't doubt but what it's the Rovers' fault!" retorted Martell. "And that puts me in mind--are we going to do anything to get square or not?" "Don't worry about that, Nap--we'll do something all right enough! But I want the chance first to think up something that will be worth while," answered Slugger Brown, emphatically. The bonfires along the river were lit directly after supper, after the cadets had received permission from Colonel Colby. The boys were allowed to do about as they pleased, the only stipulation being that they should avoid anything that might be dangerous or ungentlemanly. With the bonfires blazing high, throwing a lurid glare over the campus and parade grounds, the cadets sang and danced and then started an impromptu parade which took them around the various buildings of the school. Many carried torches, while four had drums and bugles. There was a good deal of horseplay, and also something in the way of hazing. "Here is where we get back at Codfish for some of his meanness!" cried Randy, as he and some of the others caught the sneak. Then Codfish was made to stand up on an unusually large barrel and sing, after which he was told to hold out each hand for a valuable present. "I don't want any present! I want to get down!" cried the sneak. "Oh, this is something very valuable, Codfish," returned Randy, and winked at some of the others. Just for the fun of it, some of the cadets had obtained some potatoes from the storehouse and started to roast these under one of the bonfires. Two of the potatoes, quite hot and black, were brought forth and thrust into Codfish's hands. "Ouch! What do you mean by handing me red-hot potatoes!" yelled the sneak, in alarm. "Oh, we thought you were hungry," cried one of the other cadets. "You wanted to burn me--that's what you wanted to do!" shrieked Codfish, who, however, was far more scared than hurt. "I want to get down!" "You've got to give us a dance first, Codfish," ordered Randy. "That's right! Give us a jig!" put in Andy. "Make it a Boston seven-step," suggested Jack. "Or a Washington dip," added Fred. A dozen of the cadets were shouting at poor Codfish to dance, and presently the excited boy commenced to shuffle his feet. "Now jump up three times and we'll let you go!" cried Randy. Codfish made one leap into the air and came down on the barrel top successfully. Then he tried a second leap, but, as Randy well knew, the barrel top was weak, and, with a crash, poor Codfish went down straight into the big barrel up to his armpits. "Whoop! Codfish has busted the barrel!" cried Fred. "What do you mean by breaking up housekeeping like that, Codfish?" demanded Andy. "Let's do the baker act for him," went on Randy, quickly. "The baker act?" queried several of the cadets. "What's that?" "Don't you know the baker loves his rolls?" answered Andy, with a broad grin. "That's the talk!" came in a shout. "Let's give Codfish a roll;" and before the sneak could save himself the barrel was tipped up on its side and sent rolling over and over towards the parade ground. "Ouch! Let up! I'll be killed!" screamed the victim. "This barrel may have a lot of nails in it!" "Oh, do you think that's true?" asked one of the cadets in fright. "Nary a nail! I saw to that before we used the barrel," answered Randy. "Such a rolling won't hurt him a bit;" and the cadets continued their sport with the barrel, finally sending it down a slight hill in the direction of the river. Here it lodged against some bushes, and Codfish was allowed to crawl forth. At once he took to his heels and disappeared. It was noticed by many that Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell had not participated in the festivities of the evening. The two had gone off for a walk, during which they smoked many cigarettes and talked over their grievances against the Rovers. On their return they were met by Codfish, who related to them his tale of woe. "Oh, we've got to do something," was Nappy Martell's comment. "If we don't, before we know it the Rovers will be fairly running this school." "Well, they won't run me," growled Slugger Brown. The following Monday found the Rover boys once more hard at work over their studies. They had now settled down to the regular routine of the Hall, and were doing very well, not only in their classes, but also in their training as young soldiers. Each of them could march and handle a gun as well as anybody, and now they were given the privilege of practising at target shooting--something which interested them greatly. "Let's get up a little match among ourselves," said Randy one day; and this was agreed upon, eight new cadets entering the contest. The shooting was done at a target set up against a tree some distance behind the gymnasium building; and the boys did their practising under the direction of Captain Dale. "It requires considerable practice to become an expert shot," said the military instructor. "Once in a while we find someone who is a natural-born sharpshooter, but that is very rare. Some of the best shots in the army are men who, at the start, hardly knew how to handle firearms." At this target practice a perfect score would have netted twenty-five points. The contest went on merrily, and at the conclusion it was found that Andy had scored ten points; Randy, twelve; Jack, eighteen; and Fred, nineteen. One other cadet, a youth named Lewis Barrow, had scored twenty. "Well, the prize goes to Barrow!" cried Jack. "Yes. But we came pretty close to winning," cried Fred, with justifiable pride. "You and Jack needn't complain," was Andy's comment. "Eighteen and nineteen points out of a possible twenty-five is going some, especially for beginners." "If I win the prize, what is it?" questioned Lewis Barrow, a tall, lanky youth with a rather leathery face. He came from the far West, and knew much more about firearms than did the Rovers. "Oh, the prize is first choice of holes in half a dozen doughnuts," snickered Andy. "Holes in doughnuts!" replied Barrow, who was not over-bright. "Suffering buffaloes! What would a fellow do with holes out of doughnuts?" and at this there was a little laugh. "For beginners, I think you have all done very well," remarked Captain Dale. "The lowest score, I see, is nine. Last year when the new cadets went at practice, we had several fellows who didn't hit the target." "Gee! I'd hate to go hunting with such chaps," was Andy's dry comment. "A fellow would have to get right directly in front of 'em to be sure of not being hit;" and this remark made even the military instructor laugh. "I'll be proud of all of you," said Major Ralph Mason, when he heard of the scores that had been made. "First thing you know, we'll have a company of genuine sharpshooters." "This practising at a target will come in fine if we get a chance to do any hunting this winter," remarked Fred. "Wow! Just think what would have happened if that target had been a deer, or even a partridge!" "A deer or a partridge isn't apt to stand still," returned Randy. "If you want to become expert as a hunting shot, you'll have to practise at a swinging target." "Well, that's to come later, so Captain Dale said," was the answer. "Say, let's go out hunting some day when the season opens!" cried Jack. "I'd like first rate to bag something, even if it were only a few rabbits." "That's the talk!" answered Fred, quickly. "As soon as the hunting season opens let's go out, by all means." The target practice had been witnessed by Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell. Now, when Jack and Fred spoke of hunting, Slugger Brown's face became thoughtful. "I think I see a way to square accounts with those Rovers," he remarked to his crony. "From now on, I'm going to watch 'em pretty closely. If ever they do go out hunting, I think we'll be able to put one over on 'em they'll never forget." CHAPTER XXIV THE FUN OF HALLOWE'EN "Hallowe'en to-morrow night, boys! So get ready for some real fun!" "Right you are, Andy! Remember what fun we had last year in New York?" "And what fun we had down on the farm two years ago, scaring Aleck Pop and Jack Ness nearly to death?" broke in Fred. "I don't know whether they'll let us have any fun around Colby Hall or not," remarked Jack, but in such a tone of voice that all of the others knew he was fooling. Several days had passed since the target practice, and the boys were gathered in the room used by Andy and Randy for studying. All were deep in a discussion of what they might do on Hallowe'en, when there came a knock on the door and Dan Soppinger came in. "Excuse me for interrupting you," commenced Dan, "but I'm up against a hard proposition. Can any of you tell me----" "Gee! the Human Question Mark is at it again!" broke out Randy. "Certainly we can tell you," put in Andy; "but please don't ask it." "Three and three make six, three and three always have made six, and three and three always will make six!" cried Fred in a girlish tone of voice. "So what's the use of asking a question like that?" "Who said anything about three and three making six?" snorted the Human Question Mark. "What I was going to say was: Can any of you tell me----" "When Nero discovered the north pole?" interrupted Andy. "No. He wants to know when Washington first crossed the Pacific in a motor boat," came from Fred. "No; that isn't it at all," declared Jack, seriously. "Dan wants to know what kind of an automobile Noah took on the ark." "Great Scott! What do you take me for?" groaned Dan Soppinger, helplessly. "Here I come in to ask you a perfectly simple question, and you start with a lot of foolishness." "Why, my dear Dan, we are helping you all we can!" cried Andy in deeply injured tones. "I want to know when Florida was first settled and by whom!" cried Dan, desperately. "I bet ten cents none of you know!" "Oh, that's easy, Dan," answered Andy, gravely. "Florida was first settled by the alligators, in the year one;" and at this remark there was such a burst of laughter that the Human Question Mark gave it up in despair and fled. "I've got a great scheme for Hallowe'en," said Andy a little later. He had been walking up and down the room trying to make up his mind what they might do to have some fun. "I wonder if the girls over at Clearwater Hall wouldn't lend us some dresses and some girls' hats for the occasion." "They might if we agreed to lend them some of our suits in exchange." "Well, we could do that easily enough," answered Fred. "We hardly ever have a chance to wear anything these days but our uniforms." "What do you want to do, Andy--dress up as a girl?" questioned Jack. "That's it. We might have dead loads of fun." The matter was discussed for a time, and in the end a boy, who often did errands for the cadets, was dispatched to Clearwater Hall with a note to Ruth and her chums. The boy had performed this sort of service before, and knew that he must deliver the note without allowing the communication to go through the school office. The messenger returned just as the cadets were on the point of retiring, and brought back a letter from the girls in which they agreed to let the boys have what they wanted in return for some suits of male attire. It was agreed that the exchange be made in the afternoon, directly after the school session. The Rover boys and two of their friends walked to Haven Point, and there invested some of their spending money in the hire of an automobile. Then they rode back to the school, procured several bundles of clothing, and set out for Clearwater Hall. The girls were waiting for them at a spot secluded from observation, and there an exchange of bundles took place, interspersed with a good deal of laughing by the cadets and giggling on the part of the Clearwater pupils. "Oh, I'd love to see you dressed up as a girl!" cried Ruth to Jack. "How about your being dressed up as a boy?" he returned. "Oh, none of us will dare show ourselves outside the grounds," returned Ruth, blushing. "Miss Garwood wouldn't permit it." "Well, if we get the chance, we may come up as far as yonder side fence," put in Fred. "If we do, we'll give you the signal--three long whistles." Nearly all of the cadets at Colby Hall were ready for Hallowe'en fun. They dressed up in all sorts of disguises, including those of monks, Indians, negroes, and ghosts. Lighted pumpkins with grinning faces cut into them were likewise numerous; and one senior trailed around in a silk gown which he had brought from home for this very occasion. When the Rover boys appeared dressed as young ladies, with girls' hats on their heads and parasols in their hands, they were greeted with a loud cheer, and this was redoubled as they marched around the campus arm in arm with several boys dressed as dudes, and one attired as an admiral. "Some class to the Rovers, and no mistake!" was Spouter's comment. He had on a pair of long whiskers, a linen duster, farm boots, and a big straw hat. "How do you do, Uncle Si?" cried Andy, coming up to him and bowing. "How is corn?" "So high, by gosh! y'u can't see the house," answered Spouter in country dialect. "Do tell, leetle gal! but y'u do look mighty purty, y'u do!" and at this there was a general snicker. At the first opportunity, the Rovers and several of their friends slipped away from the campus and hurried off in the direction of Clearwater Hall. They were lucky enough to meet a big wagon, the driver of which was going to the next town to pick up some young folks for a straw ride. This man took them to the young ladies' school just for the sport of it. When the Rovers gave the signal, Ruth and her friends came running towards the side fence of the grounds. All were attired in male costumes, wearing exaggerated collars, cuffs and neckties. In addition, Ruth had on a big pair of pick-toed shoes and a silk hat many years out of date. She also carried a silver-headed cane. "Oh, don't you want to take us out for a walk?" questioned Andy, in a high-pitched, feminine voice. "Very sorry, my dear, very sorry," came from May Powell, in as deep a voice as she could command. "I have important business to attend to." "Oh, Jack, what an awfully big girl you do make!" screamed Ruth, when she discovered his identity behind the little mask he wore. "I didn't know you were so large." "And what a little man you are," he answered, gaily. "Don't say a word," she returned. "See these sleeves? They are all rolled up; and I had to do the same with the trousers," and she laughed merrily. Although acting against the rules, the Rovers and their friends found an opening in the fence, and for a brief quarter of an hour mingled with the girls on the campus of the school. They had "a barrel of fun," to use Andy's way of expressing it, and left only because it was getting late and they knew they would have to walk all the way back to Colby Hall. "This is about the best Hallowe'en fun we ever had," remarked Jack, while he and the others were on the return to the school. To make time, the boys did not take the regular road through Haven Point to Colby Hall, but tramped along a back highway which was considered something of a short cut. This presently brought them in sight of a large farm which belonged to a hard-fisted man named Elias Lacy. "Say, we ought to call on old Lacy and give him a scare," said Randy, coming to a halt near the farmhouse. "It would serve him right!" answered Fred, promptly. None of the Rovers had a kindly feeling for Elias Lacy, for the reason that the old man had once caught them getting chestnuts from a tree on the corner of his farm and had made them give up all the nuts they had gathered and had then threatened them with the law if they dared to set foot on his premises again. "I know you cadets," he had snarled. "You are all a pack of petty thieves! I want you to keep away from here." He had suffered a great deal, some cadets, including Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell, having at various times robbed him of his cherries, his strawberries, and some melons. Of these depredations, however, the Rovers knew nothing. "Maybe Lacy isn't around," remarked Jack. "He may have gone to town." They knew that the old man was a bachelor. He had two young men working for him, and also a woman who came in during the day to do the housework, but all of these went home at night. "I see somebody moving around the house now," answered Randy. "It's Lacy, too!" "Let's knock on the door and pretend we are young ladies in distress," cried Randy. "Come on! I wonder what he'll do?" "Don't ask him for any money. He won't give you a cent," chuckled Fred. "Let's tell him some tramps stopped us and that we want him to go out and fight the fellows," suggested one cadet. "That will show how brave a man Lacy is. We can take off our masks." So it was arranged, and in a minute more the boys were all on the front piazza of the farmhouse ringing the old doorbell. There was a sound within, and in a moment more Elias Lacy came to the door with a lamp in one hand. "What do you want?" he asked in astonishment, when he saw what looked to be a number of well-dressed girls confronting him. "Oh, Mr. Lacy, won't you please protect us?" pleaded Randy, in his best feminine voice. "Three murderous tramps are after us!" gasped Andy. "Oh, dear! I know I shall faint!" "The tramps wanted to rob us!" cried Jack. "They are just outside your fence," put in Fred. "Please go out and chase them away." Elias Lacy was staggered. He placed his lamp on a little table near by, and looked in wonder at the crowd before him. "Three tramps, eh? An' goin' to rob you? Why, I never heard of sech a thing!" he shrilled. "Mebbe I'd better git my gun." "Oh, yes! yes! Get your gun, by all means! Get your gun! And maybe you'd better get a sword, too!" cried Randy. "Yes! Or a knife or a--a--razor," put in Andy. "Now, now! don't git so excited!" cried the old man, for the boys insisted upon clinging to his arms and to his shoulders. "Them tramps ain't goin' to eat you up." He was short-sighted, and, as the lamplight was poor, he had not noticed the boys' somewhat crude make-up. He hurried into a room and came forth presently carrying a shotgun. Then he walked back into his kitchen. "Great Cæsar! he's got his gun all right enough," said Jack in a low voice. "Maybe he'll use it on us when he discovers the trick," returned Fred. "I'll git my lantern, an' then we kin go after them tramps," announced Elias Lacy; and in a moment more he reappeared with a smoky lantern and started for the front door. "Come on, an' show me where them tramps are," he said, determinedly. CHAPTER XXV OFF ON A HUNT "Say, as soon as we are outdoors let us give him the ha-ha and run away," whispered Fred to the others. "Oh, no! Let's have some more fun," pleaded Randy. "Why! the sport has just begun!" "That's it!" came from his twin. "Don't forget we are due at the Hall," remonstrated Jack. "Now then, show me them tramps!" cried Elias Lacy, as the whole crowd went outdoors and towards the front gate. "Oh, protect us! Please protect us!" shrieked Randy, and caught hold of the old man's coat-tails. "Don't let the tramps abduct us! I don't want to live with any tramp! I want to marry a millionaire!" screamed Andy, and began to cling so close to Elias Lacy that the old man could hardly move forward. The twins cut up so that the others had all they could do to keep from laughing. One boy began to snicker, but promptly clapped his hand over his mouth. "Don't hang on to me," ordered the old farmer. "I can't use my gun if you clutch my arm like that," and he tried to shake the twins off. "Oh, there they are--behind the bushes!" screamed Randy, suddenly, pointing off to the left. "Where?" demanded the old man, holding his lantern over his head. "I don't see nothin'." "There they are!" screamed Andy. "They've got pistols, too! Oh, save us! Save us!" "Drat the pesky rascals! I'll fix 'em!" snarled Elias Lacy, and, shaking loose the clinging boys, he ran off, lantern in one hand and shotgun held up to his shoulder with the other. "Now is our time to skip out!" cried Jack. "Right you are!" added another of the crowd. And then without waiting for the rest, this cadet let up a cry: "Sold! Mr. Lacy, you are sold!" "Sold! With the compliments of the Colby Hall cadets!" cried another. And then, seeing that the disguise was at an end, the boys began to shout a variety of things not at all complimentary to the old farmer. Elias Lacy was thunderstruck by the sudden turn of affairs, and, wheeling around, he stared in open-mouthed wonder at the retreating girlish figures. "What's that?" he shrilled. "What are you runnin' away fur?" "Good-bye, Mr. Lacy!" sang out Randy. "We're only having a little fun." "Don't you know it's Hallowe'en?" queried Andy; and then started to walk off on his hands, but the dress he wore fell down around him and caused him to tumble over on his back. In the gloom, Fred stumbled and fell on top of him. "Fun! Hallowe'en!" bellowed Elias Lacy, and of a sudden he became filled with rage. "You ain't gals at all! You're only playin' a trick on me!" he snarled. "Good-bye and pleasant dreams!" shouted Randy. "Don't tell any of your friends about the young ladies who called on you," advised Jack. And then the other cadets made various taunting remarks. They had come to a halt to enjoy the old farmer's discomfiture and at the same time to give Andy and Fred a chance to regain their feet. "Halt!" suddenly commanded Elias Lacy, and set down his lantern on a fence post. "Halt! or I'll shoot some of you!" and he aimed his shotgun at them. "Don't shoot!" cried several of the cadets in alarm, for they could see that the old man was in a frame of mind to do almost anything. "Stop! Don't you dare stir a step or I'll shoot as sure as you're standin' there!" continued the old man. And then, as all of the boys halted he went on: "Now come up here where I kin git a good look at you, but don't you come too clost or try to play any more tricks. If you do, somebody'll sure git shot." There was no help for it, and rather sheepishly the crowd of cadets came forward as he had ordered. "It was only a bit of Hallowe'en fun. We didn't mean any harm," pleaded Randy. "Take them bunnets an' things off so I kin see your faces," ordered the old man, at the same time keeping the crowd covered with his shotgun. With great reluctance one after another the cadets took off their veils and hats. The old man came a step or two closer, looking at each face sharply. His countenance grew even more hateful when he recognized the Rovers. "Ha! you're the same fellers who robbed my chestnut tree," he snarled. "Didn't I tell you to keep off my premises? I've a good mind to have you locked up." "Oh, come, Mr. Lacy, it was only a bit of fun," pleaded one lad. "Didn't you go out on Hallowe'ens when you were a boy?" "No, I didn't! I stayed home an' done my work," was the harsh reply. "Nowadays boys cut up altogether too much." Had it not been for the shotgun the boys would have taken to their heels; but with the old man thus armed none of them wanted to take any chances. But then came a lucky interruption. From back on the farm came a wild bellowing as if a cow was in trouble. This was followed by the squealing of a number of pigs. "Hello! Those town boys must have come over after your cattle after all!" cried Jack, struck by a sudden idea. "My cattle! What do you know about my cattle?" questioned Elias Lacy, quickly. "That's it! The town boys are after the cows and pigs!" broke in Fred, quick to catch Jack's idea. "You'll lose them all if you don't look out, Mr. Lacy!" put in Randy. "They sha'n't tech my cows, nor my pigs neither!" snarled the old farmer; and, taking up his lantern, he left the cadets and ran off towards the rear of the premises. Fortunately, nothing serious had happened to his stock. "Now's the time to skip out!" cried Jack, and led the way, and the others lost no time in following. The cadets had to hold their skirts high to keep from tripping as they sped along. They reached Colby Hall in safety, and lost no time in rejoining their friends. A little later the Hallowe'en celebration came to an end. "Old Lacy will remember us," was Andy's comment, in speaking of the affair the next day. "He'll have it in for us." "I'm afraid so," replied Jack, seriously. The main topic of conversation at the school now was the football game which was to take place with the eleven of the Clearwater Country Club on the following Saturday. This was another gala occasion for the school, and once more the boys had the pleasure of escorting the girls to and from the conflict. "I hope we can do them up as we did Hixley High," remarked Jack. But this was not to be. The Clearwater Country Club eleven were much older than the cadets and much heavier, and all the Colby Hall team could do was to hold them down to a score of 16 to 10. "Well, that's not so bad but what it might be worse," remarked Gif, when the defeated eleven had returned to Colby Hall. "I did hope, however, that we might hold them to at least a tie." "They carried too much weight for us," replied Jack. "Even Slugger Brown couldn't do anything against them." For Slugger had been used as a substitute in the third and fourth quarters. But the big cadet had failed to show either form or efficiency. He had been warned by the umpire, because of an unfair tackle, and this had put him in anything but a good humor. "I won't play again so long as Gif Garrison is captain!" cried Slugger to Nappy Martell; and that evening he sent in his resignation, which Gif promptly accepted. The game with Columbus Academy was not to take place until two weeks later, so that, although they kept at their practice, the football players had considerable time for other things. Jack and his cousins had continued their target practice, and their shooting was now so accurate that Captain Dale complimented them upon it. "The hunting season opens to-morrow," announced Jack one day, as he came back from an errand to the town. "How I'd like to go out and try my luck!" "I'd like to go myself," spoke up Fred. A number of the senior cadets had received permission to go hunting and Jack spoke to one of these youths about the prospects. "I'd like first rate to have you come with me, Rover," said the cadet, Frank Newberry by name; "and if your cousin Fred wants to come along, he can do so." "We'd have to get permission first, and also permission to use a couple of the shotguns," answered Jack. The gun rack at Colby Hall boasted a number of these weapons, but none of them could be taken out and used without special permission from Captain Dale. It was no easy matter for Jack and Fred to gain the desired permission, but when Colonel Colby heard from Captain Dale what good shots the boys had proved to be, he said they might go out, along with Frank Newberry and some of the others. "But I want you to be very careful," said the colonel impressively. "I wouldn't have an accident happen to you for the world. Don't fire a charge until you are absolutely sure of what you're firing at. Never point your gun at anybody else; and be very careful how you handle your weapon in climbing a fence or leaping over rocks or brushwood." The twins were a bit envious over the prospects for their cousins, but they wished Jack and Fred the best of luck. All of the cadets who were to go out had lessons in the morning, but they departed directly after dinner, and were told that they could remain out as long as they pleased. "Now, don't forget to bring back a deer or a bear," cried Andy. "And if you can, bag a buffalo or a hippopotamus," added his twin. "We'll be lucky if we bag some rabbits and a squirrel or two or some woodcock," answered Jack. "Big game doesn't exist around here any more. The farms are too thick." "Well, be sure and bring down a pink canary bird, anyway," advised Andy; and at this there was a general laugh. Frank Newberry had been out the year before, and consequently knew much about the lay of the land. "We'll go down into the woods directly back of Haven Point," he announced. "Last year the hunting there was much better than it was up the Rick Rack River." And then off the cadets started on the hunt. Much that was unusual lay in store for them. CHAPTER XXVI FROM ONE TROUBLE TO ANOTHER Half an hour of tramping brought the two Rover boys and their friends into the heart of the big woods Frank Newberry had mentioned. They had entered it by way of the road they had used on Hallowe'en, and were now almost directly behind Elias Lacy's farm. In fact, although they were not aware of this, a large section of the woods belonged to the old farmer. On their way into the timber they had heard various shots at a distance, showing that other hunters were abroad. Then came a report so close at hand, it made Fred jump. "You want to be very careful so that you don't mistake some other hunter for game," cautioned Frank Newberry. "Exactly!" grumbled Fred. "And I want the other hunters to be careful that they don't shoot me for a deer or a bear." The cadets continued to advance into the woods, and then crossed an open space. Here they were fortunate enough to stir up quite a few rabbits, and Jack, after an hour's hunt, had the pleasure of bringing down two, while one was laid low by Fred. So far the cadets had kept together, but presently the party managed to catch sight of game in two directions, and soon Frank Newberry and the seniors with him were hurrying off to the southward while the Rover boys went after game that had gone northward. "Come right back to this spot!" cried Frank Newberry to the Rovers. "All right," answered Jack. Their sporting blood, aroused by the game already brought down, urged Jack and Fred forward, and almost before they knew it they had covered a long distance. They presently came to another clearing, bordering a good-sized pond. Here they stirred up half a dozen rabbits and also some squirrels, and each succeeded in bringing down more than half the game sighted. "Say, this is the finest sport ever!" declared Fred, as he looked at his game with deep satisfaction. "Won't the others envy us when we get back to the Hall with these!" "It's sport enough for us," returned Jack. "I don't know what the rabbits and squirrels think about it though," he added dryly. From a distance the boys had seen more game and they began to circle the pond. Then they heard a strange whirring in some bushes a distance further on. "Maybe we'll come across some wild turkeys or something like that," said Fred. "I don't believe there are any wild turkeys around here," answered Jack. "Oh! wouldn't it be fine if we sighted a deer or a bear?" sighed Fred. "You don't want much for your money, do you?" laughed his cousin. "I rather think if a bear came after you you'd take to your heels." "Maybe I would--if he was a big one." On and on went the two boys, and presently were rewarded by the sight of several small woodcock. Both fired almost at the same instant, and two of the birds came fluttering down, to thrash around in the bushes until put out of misery by the young hunters. "Two of 'em! Think of that!" chuckled Fred. "Oh! this is simply glorious!" So far the two boys had not met any of the strange hunters, but now they came across two men well loaded down with rabbits. They did not know it, but one of the men was a farm hand employed by Elias Lacy. "You'd better keep away from the Lacy place," said the man, with a sarcastic look at the Rovers. He had been on hand when the lads had had the chestnuts taken away by the old farmer, and had also heard about the joke on Hallowe'en. "Don't you worry. We've no use for Mr. Lacy," returned Fred, crossly. "He's the meanest man we ever met," added Jack. At this the farm hand only grinned, and then he and his companion disappeared once more into the woods. So far the day had been typical of the Autumn season, somewhat gray, with only an occasional showing of the sun. Now, however, it became rapidly darker, and presently a few flakes of snow sifted down through the air. "Hello! What do you know about this!" cried Jack, looking up. "I guess we're going to have a snowstorm." "Oh, I hope it doesn't snow very heavily--at least not until we get back to school," returned Fred, quickly. "A little snow won't hurt us, Fred." "But if it got too thick, Jack, we might lose our way." "I don't believe it will come down as heavily as all that--not at this season of the year." With the sky growing darker, and the flakes of snow coming down thicker than ever, the two boys sought to retrace their steps in the direction of the pond. But in their eagerness to sight something at which to shoot, they had not noted their path very carefully, and as a consequence they now found themselves somewhat bewildered. "If the sun was only out we'd know in what direction to steer," remarked Jack. "But when the sky is this way, a fellow is apt to get completely turned around." "It's too bad we didn't bring a pocket compass." "That's true. However, we haven't got one, so we'll have to make the best of it. Come on!" They had paused for a moment to rest and to survey their surroundings. Now they continued their tramping, and at length came out on the edge of a sheet of water which they at first took to be the pond they had previously visited. "There they go! Quick, Jack!" sang out Fred, and blazed away with his shotgun. His cousin followed suit, and soon they found they had bagged two additional rabbits--one the largest yet brought low. "This isn't the pond at all!" cried Jack, in some disappointment, after the excitement of shooting the rabbits had subsided. "I never saw this spot before." "Nor I! What do you make of it, Jack?" "Don't ask me! It looks as if we were lost." "Hark! I heard a shot!" cried Fred, a minute later, while the pair were looking around trying to make up their minds in what direction to proceed next. "Maybe those are our fellows shooting." The shot had come from their right, and was presently followed by another. Thinking their friends might be close at hand, the Rovers started off as well as they could through the brushwood and between the trees. But then they came to some rough ground covered with rocks, and here further progress was all but impossible. In the meanwhile, no further reports had reached their ears. "We are sure up against it," remarked Jack, after he and his cousin had looked at each other rather helplessly. It was darker than ever, and the snow still continued to sift down through the trees. "Maybe we'll have to stay out here all night," said Fred, after consulting his watch. "It's half past five now." "We ought to be on the way back to the Hall if we expect any supper," replied his cousin. Being unable to advance further in that direction, the Rover boys sought to retrace their steps, and after considerable trouble managed to return to the sheet of water they had left a while before. But by this time the darkness of night had fallen. "It's no use!" cried Fred, helplessly. "We're lost, that's all there is to it!" "It was bad enough while it was daylight, Fred. I really don't know what we are going to do now it's dark," answered Jack, seriously. On the return to the little pond Fred had stumbled over some tree roots, and this had lamed him a little. "I can't walk very much further," he said, with a sigh. And then he added quickly: "Jack, have you any matches?" "Oh, yes! I put a box in my pocket before we started." "Good! Then if we have to stay here we can build a fire and maybe cook something." The boys tried the water of the pond, and finding it fairly good drank their fill. Then they sat down to discuss the situation. Both were hungry, and in the end they gathered some dry sticks, started a fire, and cooked one of the rabbits and also a squirrel, which they ate with much satisfaction. "We'll freeze to death if we stay here all night," was Fred's dismal comment. "Oh, no--not if we keep the fire going." "Then let's do that by all means. It will not only keep us warm, but it may be the means of directing somebody to this place." It was a long night for both of the boys. They took turns at resting and at replenishing the fire, and it is doubtful if either of them got much real sleep. Once, in the early morning, came an alarm, and Fred imagined a bear was in the bushes. But the animal, or whatever it was, soon went away, and that was the end of the disturbance. "Thank goodness! it has stopped snowing!" remarked Jack, when the cousins were preparing a breakfast of another squirrel. The snow had not amounted to much, being less than an inch in depth. The storm had cleared away entirely, and at the proper time the sun came up over the hills beyond Clearwater Lake. Long before that time the two young hunters were once more on their way. They had tramped along for fully half an hour when suddenly Jack let up a shout of joy. "Hurrah! we've struck a road at last! Now we'll find out where we are!" The road was little more than a trail through the woods, evidently made by the wagon or sled of some woodcutter. It ran down a slight hill, and the two boys lost no time in following it. "I hope it brings us into Haven Point," remarked Fred, as they strode along. "I'm getting tired of walking and of carrying the shotgun. I'd rather have a ride." "Let us be thankful to get out of the woods, Fred. We might have gotten so mixed up that we'd have had to spend another night there." The two lads continued to follow the woods road, and presently came into sight of several farm buildings, including a corncrib and a long, low cowshed. "Oh, for the love of doughnuts!" cried Jack an instant later. "Fred, do you know where we are?" "No, I don't. Where?" "Right in the back of old Lacy's place! There is his house;" and the oldest Rover boy pointed with his hand. "You're right, Jack! Gee! we almost ran into the old man again, didn't we?" gasped Fred. "We had better get out of here as quick as we can!" "Now you're saying something!" returned his cousin. "Come on, before he catches sight of us!" The two boys had just started to leave the road on which they had been traveling when a shout reached their ears. The next moment another shout rent the frosty morning air, and then two men came running towards the lads, one carrying a gun and the other a pitchfork. "Stop there! you young rascals! Stop!" roared out the voice of Elias Lacy. "Stop, I tell you! Caleb, cover 'em with your gun!" "I'm doin' it, Mr. Lacy," replied the other man, and leveled his gun at the boys. He was the same man the Rovers had met in the woods the afternoon before. With the weapon of the farm hand pointed at them the two Rover boys came to a halt. In a minute more the others came up, Elias Lacy puffing because of his exertions. "Now I've caught you!" he snarled. "I didn't think it was goin' to be so easy." "You're certainly in luck, Mr. Lacy," grinned Caleb Boggs. "I didn't think they'd stay roun' here after doin' it." "They came back jest to have the laugh on me!" snarled the old farmer. "I know 'em! I s'pose they did it 'cause I took them chestnuts away from 'em, an' on account o' the way I treated 'em Hallowe'en night. But I'll fix 'em now! I'll have the law on 'em! I'll send 'em to state's prison for ten years! Jest you see if I don't!" and thus the old man spluttered on, saying many things the boys could not understand. "See here, Mr. Lacy! What are you so mad about?" queried Jack, finally. "Can't you stand a little fun?" "Stand a little fun!" yelled the excited old man, fairly beside himself with rage. "It ain't no fun to kill two o' my cows!" He shook his bony fist at the boys. "I'll have the law on you, so I will! I'll send you both to state's prison for ten years!" CHAPTER XXVII ELIAS LACY'S DEMAND The two Rover boys stared at Elias Lacy in open-mouthed amazement. "What did you say about killing two cows?" questioned Jack. "Have two of your cows been killed?" came from Fred. At these questions the old farmer seemed to become more enraged than ever. He raised his pitchfork as if to use it on the cadets. "You can't play innercent with me!" he fairly screamed. "I know you! You shot them cows, an' I'm a-goin' to send you to state's prison fur it!" "It's a purty serious business--killin' a man's cattle like that," added Caleb Boggs, with a shake of his head. He still held his shotgun so as to cover the two boys. "I don't know a thing about your cows, and I certainly haven't shot at them," answered Jack, indignantly. "We haven't been anywhere near your cow pasture, or your cowshed, either," said Fred. "We've been hunting up in the woods yonder. Your man saw us." "We got lost up there after it began to snow, and we had to camp out all night," explained Jack. "We just found that road and were trying to get back to Haven Point and Colby Hall." "It ain't so! It ain't so!" snarled Elias Lacy. "You come over to my cow paster yesterday afternoon an' shot both o' them cows and then you run away. One o' my men seen you." "He never did!" burst out Jack. "I tell you we weren't near your place." "We went out hunting with a number of other cadets, and we can prove it!" added his cousin. "Huh! where are them other cadets now?" demanded the old farmer. "We got separated in the woods--they going off for some rabbits in one direction and we going off after some other rabbits in another direction," explained the oldest Rover boy. "I don't know where those other cadets are now. Probably they went back to the school." "You ain't got no right to hunt on my grounds." "We were out in the open woods, Mr. Lacy, where we had a perfect right to be." "Well, we won't talk about that now," snarled the old man. "I'm a-goin' to fix you for shootin' them cows. They was two of the best cows I had, an' they was wuth a lot o' money." A wordy war followed, during which the boys became almost as angry as the old farmer. They insisted upon it that they had not been near his farm during the afternoon of the day before, but he did not believe a word they said. "I'm a-goin' to have the law on you!" he cried. "I'm a-goin' to have you arrested! An' I'll make your folks pay fur them cows!" "Hadn't we better march 'em down to the barn?" suggested the hired man. "Then I kin hitch up the horses and we kin take 'em down to the town lock-up." "Oh, Jack, don't let them lock us up!" whispered Fred, in horror. "If you lock us up, Mr. Lacy, you'll suffer for it," said Jack. "I'll get my father to sue you for damages." "Don't you talk to me like that, you young whipper-snapper!" cried the old man. "I know what I'm a-doin'. I'm a-goin' to turn you over to the town authorities, an' that's all there is to it!" The old man was obdurate, and he and the hired man forced the boys into the barn, where the farmer stood guard with the shotgun while the hired man hooked up a team of horses to one of the farm wagons. Then the lads were told to get into the turnout. "I don't think I'll get in," said Jack. "Yes, you will!" snarled Elias Lacy; and then followed a lively scuffle. But the two boys were no match for the men, and they were quickly disarmed. Then, being covered by the hired man's shotgun, they had to get up into the wagon. The hired man drove, while Elias Lacy sat in the rear, the shotgun ready for action so that the boys might not escape. Their own guns, along with their game, were placed on the bottom of the wagon under a blanket. It must be confessed that Jack and Fred were in no enviable frame of mind as the wagon with the two prisoners aboard headed in the direction of Haven Point. They knew that news of their arrest would spread rapidly, and they wondered what their friends, and especially the girls at Clearwater Hall, would think of it. "Gee, but we're in a pickle!" commented Fred, dismally. "Yes. And the worst of it is, I don't know how we are going to clear ourselves," answered his cousin. "As near as I can learn, those cows were shot while you and I were off by ourselves in the woods. The hired man says the other man who works on the place saw two cadets disappearing between the trees." "Who can those fellows be, Jack?" "Don't ask me! Probably two of our fellows who have some grudge against Lacy." This talk was carried on in an undertone, so that neither the old farmer nor his hired man could understand what was said. "You needn't plan no trick to escape," warned Elias Lacy, raising his shotgun slightly. "Mr. Lacy, what did you do with the two cows that were shot?" asked Jack, suddenly. "I left 'em out in the paster, right where they fell," returned the old farmer. "I ain't a-goin' to tech 'em till the authorities have looked 'em over." "Were they killed with bird shot or with rifle bullets?" "Bird shot--same as you've been a-usin' in them shotguns of yourn." A portion of the roadway leading into Haven Point was being repaired and was closed off; so, in order to get down into the town, they had to make something of a detour in the direction of Colby Hall. "Oh, Jack, hadn't we better ask him to take us to the Hall first?" whispered Fred to his cousin. "Maybe Colonel Colby can fix this up for us." "I might ask him," returned Jack, in a low tone. "I ain't a-goin' to Colby Hall," snarled Elias Lacy, after the question had been put to him. "I'm a-goin' to take you to the lock-up." The journey towards the town was continued, and presently those in the wagon came within sight of a rural free delivery turnout. "Hello there, Pete! Got any letters for us?" sang out the farm hand. "One fur Mr. Lacy," replied the post carrier, and, driving closer, he handed it over. "I ain't got no time to read letters now," announced Elias Lacy, as he thrust the communication into his pocket. "I've got other business to 'tend to." "Givin' a couple of the Colby cadets a ride, eh?" ventured the carrier. "I'm a-takin' 'em to the lock-up, Pete. They went an' shot two o' my cows." "You don't say, 'Lias!" cried the carrier in amazement. "Out huntin' I s'pose, and mistook 'em for deer or bears," and he chuckled over his little joke. "No; they done it a-purpose," growled the farmer. "They held a grudge agin me, an' they thought they was a-goin' to git square. But I'll show 'em, an' don't you forgit it!" "We didn't shoot his cows!" came simultaneously from Jack and Fred. "Bad business! But I've got to be on my way," commented the carrier. "That road bein' closed puts me away off my regular route;" and off he drove. Three quarters of the distance to Haven Point had been covered when those in the wagon heard a shout, and a moment later Captain Dale came galloping up on horseback. "Where in the world have you two cadets been?" he cried. "We have been looking all over for you." "We got lost in the woods and had to camp out all night," explained Jack, and then added: "Did the others get back?" "Oh, yes. And they fully expected that you would follow them." And then, seeing a peculiar look on the boys' faces, the military instructor of Colby Hall continued: "Nothing wrong, I hope?" "Yes, there is--a whole lot wrong!" cried Elias Lacy, before the cadets could answer. "They sneaked up to my farm an' shot two o' my cows." "Impossible!" exclaimed the military man. "No, it ain't! It's so!" shrilled the old farmer. "They killed the cows, an' I'm on my way to put 'em in the Haven Point lock-up." "Oh, Captain Dale, don't let him have us arrested!" pleaded Fred. "We do not know anything about his cows, and we certainly did not shoot them." "Tell me all about this," demanded Captain Dale. And in a highly excited fashion, Elias Lacy told his story, which was corroborated by his hired man. "Now I'll hear what you have to say," said the captain, turning to Jack and Fred. They gave him the particulars of what had happened, just as they had already related them to the old farmer. Then Captain Dale asked them a number of questions. Elias Lacy interrupted continually. "I ain't a-goin' to stand no nonsense," said the old man doggedly. "I'm a-goin' to put 'em in the lock-up, an' do it right now!" "Mr. Lacy, allow me to tell you something," said the military instructor coolly. "If these boys are guilty you will be justified in having them placed under arrest. But if they are not guilty--and they claim they are innocent--you'll make yourself liable for a big suit for damages." "I don't care! I know they shot them cows!" "No, you don't know it. You admit that the farm hand who saw the two cadets did not recognize them. In fact, he wasn't altogether sure that they were cadets. Now, these boys claim they were nowhere near your pasture lot when the cows were shot. I think the best thing you can do is to let them return to the Hall with me. Colonel Colby is away to-day, but I will take the matter up with him just as soon as he returns." "Mebbe if I let 'em go to the Hall, they'll run away," answered Elias Lacy. The mention of a possible lawsuit for damages had taken some of the aggressiveness out of him. "I will see to it that they do not run away," answered Captain Dale. "We have a guardroom at the Hall--a sort of lock-up; and if it is necessary I will have them placed there until Colonel Colby can investigate, and until you can make up your mind what you want to do." The old farmer argued the matter for several minutes, but in the end agreed to let the military instructor take charge of Jack and Fred. "But remember," he said in parting, "you've got to keep 'em under lock an' key till I see Colonel Colby. I'm a-goin' to make an investigation, an' I'm purty sure I'll be able to prove that they killed them cows." CHAPTER XXVIII IN THE GUARDROOM "What in the world do you suppose has become of them, Randy?" "I give it up! I hope they only lost their way and didn't have some kind of an accident." "Oh, don't speak of an accident!" cried Andy in horror. "It makes me shiver to think of it." "I can't understand why they didn't rejoin us as they promised to do," said Frank Newberry, who was present. "We looked all over for them, and fired one or two shots to attract their attention, but it was all useless." The twins had passed a restless night following the continued absence from the school of their cousins. Early in the morning they had gone out in company with Gif and Spouter, and covered many miles in a vain search for the absent ones. They could not settle down to their class work, and so were excused by Professor Brice. "Well, I've got to be getting back to the classroom," remarked Frank Newberry, presently, and he and several others who were present hurried away, leaving the twins to themselves. The boys walked down the roadway which had been followed by the hunters the day before. They had covered only a short distance when they saw a farm wagon approaching, with Captain Dale beside it on his horse. "There they are!" cried Andy, and an instant later added in amazement: "Old Lacy and one of his men are with them!" "Yes. And I bet that spells trouble for Jack and Fred," announced his brother. The old farmer would not stop for the boys on the roadside, but drove directly to the Colby Hall entrance. "Why! what's the matter?" exclaimed Randy to the military instructor. "A little trouble, boys," was Captain Dale's answer. "You'll hear about it later." And then he went after the wagon, and the boys took to their heels and followed. "Now then, you do what you promised!" snapped Elias Lacy, after Jack and Fred had jumped from the wagon. "Don't let 'em run away, nohow!" "You can rest assured that I will take care of them, Mr. Lacy," answered the captain coldly. "When do you expect Colonel Colby back?" "Some time this afternoon." "Then I guess I'll be back by that time to see him. An' I guess I'll be able to prove them boys is guilty, too." "Why, Jack! what is it all about?" demanded Randy, while his twin looked on questioningly. The boys' shotguns and game had been taken from the farm wagon, and now the pair from the Lacy farm drove away. "You've got to search me!" declared Jack. "Old Lacy accuses Fred and me of shooting two of his cows." "You didn't do it, though, did you?" queried Andy. "Certainly not!" burst out Fred. "All we know about it is what he has told us. We weren't even near the pasture where the cows were kept." As well as they were able, Jack and Fred explained the situation to their cousins and also answered a number of questions put to them by Captain Dale. The military instructor was much puzzled over the situation, and hardly knew what to do. "You heard what I promised Mr. Lacy," he said finally. "I'll have to place you in the guardroom until Colonel Colby gets back. But I imagine you would rather be kept there than let Mr. Lacy take you down to the town lock-up." "It isn't fair to lock us up at all," grumbled Fred. "We have done no wrong. Of course we stayed away from the Hall over night, but that couldn't be helped. It was no fun staying outdoors on such a cold night without shelter." "Can't you parole us, Captain?" queried Jack. "No. I gave Mr. Lacy my word that I would lock you up, and I'll have to do it. I'll see to it, however, that you suffer no discomforts while you are in the guardroom." After this there seemed no help for it, and, turning their guns and game over to the twins, Jack and Fred followed Captain Dale through one of the lower corridors and then into a wing of the building. Here there was a room about twelve feet square, the one window of which was barred, and this was known officially as the school guardroom, or prison. "You may wash up if you care to do so, and I will send you some breakfast," announced Captain Dale, and then left them in the room, locking the door behind him. The apartment was but scantily furnished, containing an iron cot, a couple of stools, a table, and, in one corner, a wash bowl with running water. There was a small steam radiator in the room, and this the boys lost no time in turning on, for the air was damp and cold. "This is a fine prospect, truly," remarked Fred, as he sank down on one of the stools. "I wonder how long we'll have to stay in this hole." "That remains to be seen, Fred. I wish Colonel Colby were here. I think he would give us some good advice--being such an old friend of our fathers." "Gee! I'd hate to have him send a letter home telling the folks that we were guilty of shooting a farmer's cows." "So would I. I don't see how we are going to clear ourselves. You can bet Lacy will make out the blackest possible case against us." After their outing in the woods the boys were glad enough to wash themselves. They had hardly finished when one of the waiters of the Hall came in with a large tray filled with an appetizing breakfast. "This isn't so bad," declared Jack, when they had been left once more alone. The boys ate heartily, yet they were so much troubled that it is not likely the food did them any good. The report soon circulated throughout Colby Hall that Jack and Fred had been placed under arrest, and many of the cadets wanted to know what it meant. "They've been arrested for shooting two of old Lacy's cows!" said Codfish, who had heard the news and had started to circulate it as quickly as possible. "They say old Lacy is going to send them to state's prison for it." "Spikeless mosquitoes!" cried Fatty. "Do you think they really went over there and shot the cows?" "I don't know, I'm sure," answered Walt Baxter, who was present. "I know they didn't bear old Lacy much good-will. They felt rather raw over the way the old man held 'em up with his shotgun when they were having their Hallowe'en fun." "Yes. And they were down on Lacy because he once took away some chestnuts they had gathered from one of his trees," put in another cadet. "Shooting cows is rather a serious business," was Bart White's comment. This talk took place on the campus. Down in the gymnasium another group of cadets had gathered, including Nappy Martell and Slugger Brown. "Locked up for killing old Lacy's cows, eh?" cried Martell, with a satisfied grin on his face. "They'll catch it for that, all right enough!" "I don't see why Colonel Colby don't fire 'em out of the school for it," said Slugger Brown. "Maybe he will dismiss 'em if he finds out the report is true," ventured another cadet. "Of course the report is true!" put in Codfish, who had come up. "Didn't one of the hired men see 'em do it?" "Is that so, Codfish?" "So they say." "Oh, it would be just like those Rovers to do something like that," came from Nappy Martell. "They are that kind of fellows." "I always thought they were pretty good chaps," was the comment of another cadet. "Good chaps!" sneered Slugger Brown. "That shows you don't know 'em as well as we do. They are sneaks--all of 'em--and wouldn't hesitate a minute to do anything underhanded. I hope Colonel Colby gets after them and fires 'em out;" and then, with a knowing look at Martell, Slugger passed on, and presently his crony followed him. A good deal of this talk drifted to the ears of the Rover twins and hurt them not a little. But they were in no position to combat what was said. "Of course we know Jack and Fred are innocent," remarked Randy to his brother. "But in a court of law it is one thing to know it and quite another thing to prove it." "Yet I've always heard it said that a man was innocent until he was proved guilty," asserted Andy. "Very true. Just the same, many a man has been convicted on what they call circumstantial evidence; and evidently the circumstantial evidence against Jack and Fred is pretty strong." In the guardroom the time for Jack and Fred passed slowly. They discussed the situation from every possible point of view, but without arriving at any satisfactory conclusion. "Even if they don't send us to prison for the crime, they may make our fathers' pay for the cows," said Jack. "Yes. And Colonel Colby may send us home," added Fred, dismally. "Oh, dear! wouldn't that be the worst ever?" and he sank down on the cot and covered his face with his hands. It was Martell and Brown, aided by Codfish, who saw to it that the report of Jack and Fred's arrest was carried to Clearwater Hall. This brought consternation to the girls, particularly to Ruth and May. "I won't believe it!" declared Ruth. "I don't believe Jack and Fred would be so mean." "I don't believe it either!" cried Spouter's cousin. "Somebody else must have done it!" In the middle of the afternoon Colonel Colby returned to the Hall and was at once acquainted with the affair by Captain Dale. The colonel was on the point of questioning the two prisoners when a servant came in, announcing the arrival of Elias Lacy. The farmer was as wildly excited as he had been in the morning. "I knowed I was right!" he cried, flourishing a letter in the colonel's face. "Here's something I got to prove it! It come by mail this mornin' when I was bringin' them young whelps over here. I put the letter in my pocket, an' I forgot all about it until an hour ago. Jest read that, will you?" and he thrust the communication into Colonel Colby's hand. The letter was postmarked at Beach Haven, and had been mailed the evening previous. It was written in a slanting backhand, evidently disguised, and ran as follows: "Dear Mr. Lacy: "Your two cows were shot by Jack Rover and Fred Rover. They were out in the woods hunting when we saw them go towards your pasture lot. We thought they were up to some trick, so watched them. They drove the two cows from the rest of the herd, and then Jack Rover gave one cow two shots and Fred Rover gave the other cow two shots. Then they ran back into the woods as tight as they could go. They didn't join the other hunters they had gone out with, most likely because they were afraid. "You had better go to Colby Hall and have them arrested before they run away. "Yours truly, "Three boys who know, but who do not dare to give you their names." CHAPTER XXIX THE EXPOSURE "There! what do you think of that letter?" demanded Elias Lacy, after Colonel Colby had read the communication. "I don't know what to think of it, Mr. Lacy," was the slow reply. "I have not yet had an opportunity to interview the two Rovers. If you will sit down here in my office, I'll talk to them and try to settle this matter with you." "Don't you want me to go with you?" questioned the old farmer quickly. "No. I prefer to interview them alone." "All right then, I'll stay here. But don't be too long, 'cause I want to drive down to the town an' git Bill Pixley, the chief o' police, or one of his men." "I don't think you'll need any police, Mr. Lacy. I think we'll be able to fix this matter up to your entire satisfaction," answered Colonel Colby; and then left the office and made his way along the corridors to the guardroom. His coming was a great relief to Jack and Fred, for they felt that in Colonel Colby they had a real friend. Yet they were much troubled, for they realized that the case looked black against them. "Now tell me everything you know. Don't hold back a single item," said the colonel, as he seated himself on one of the stools. Thereupon both cadets related their story in detail--how they had gone out with Frank Newberry and the others, how the two parties had become separated, and how they had lost their way, camped out over night, and finally found the woods road leading down to the Lacy farm, and then how Elias Lacy and his hired man had held them up and threatened them with arrest. "And you do not know a single thing about the shooting of the cows?" questioned the colonel, eyeing them sternly. "Not a thing, sir," responded Jack, promptly. "We don't know anything more about those cows than you do, sir," added Fred, vehemently. "We weren't anywhere near his place when they were shot." "Then what do you two say to this letter?" continued the master of Colby Hall, and presented the communication to them. Jack read the letter with Fred looking over his shoulder. Then, of a sudden, Fred gave a cry of amazement. "I think I know who wrote that letter!" he exclaimed. "You do!" returned Colonel Colby and Jack, simultaneously. "I think so; although, of course, I am not sure." Fred looked at his cousin. "It would be just like him to do it." "Who are you talking about, Fred?" "I'm talking about Slugger Brown." "Slugger Brown!" "Do you mean Slogwell Brown?" queried the master of the school. "Yes, sir." "And what makes you think Brown wrote that communication?" demanded Colonel Colby. And now, somewhat to their wonder, the Rovers realized that the colonel seemed to be unusually interested. "Because I once saw Brown writing in backhand fashion on the blackboard in the gymnasium," explained Fred. "He wrote a hand almost identical with that. I noticed it particularly, because he was amusing himself by writing one line slanting backward and the next line slanting forward." "Did he know you were watching him?" "Oh, no! I didn't stay there long enough for that. He was all alone, and as I didn't care to speak to him, I passed out without his noticing it." "How long ago was this?" "Only about a week ago." "Hum!" The colonel mused for a moment, knitting his brows closely as he did so. "That is worth investigating." He thought for another moment. "You have nothing more to add to your story?" "No, sir," answered Fred. "I think we've told you everything, Colonel Colby," returned Jack. "We are innocent, and I trust you will do all you can to help us prove it." "I shall do what is absolutely fair in the matter," answered Colonel Colby; and then left the two boys once more to themselves. Andy and Randy had begged for permission to talk things over with their cousins, and they came in to see Jack and Fred almost immediately after Colonel Colby left. "If Slugger Brown wrote that letter, maybe he and Nappy Martell did the shooting," remarked Randy. "They would be just mean enough to do it," added his twin. "They'd do anything to get our crowd into trouble." "Why can't you two fellows watch Brown and Martell?" questioned Jack. "You might tell Gif and Spouter and Ned about it, too. Find out where those two fellows were yesterday afternoon, and find out if they used any of the shotguns." "Say! that's an idea!" cried Randy, enthusiastically. "I'll go at it right away!" "And so will I!" declared his brother. "Maybe we'll be able to lay the whole blame on that pair." The twins talked it over with the others for a little while longer, and then were let out of the guardroom by a servant, who locked the door after them. As they came out into the main corridor of the Hall, they saw that Elias Lacy was just leaving Colonel Colby's office. "All right, then, I'll wait," the old farmer was saying. "But I'll be back by to-morrow afternoon, an' if you can't prove by that time that them Rover boys is innercent, I'm a-goin' to have 'em locked up." "Very well, Mr. Lacy," the colonel replied, and bowed his visitor out of the door. "Well, anyway, the colonel has got old Lacy to wait another day," whispered Randy. "That will give us just so much more time to get on the track of what Martell and Brown have been doing." "All provided they are really guilty of playing this dirty trick," answered his brother. In the upper hallway the twins ran across Ned Lowe, and immediately took that cadet into their confidence, and asked him if he would not try to find out for them where Brown and Martell had been the previous afternoon. "For, you see, we can't ask them ourselves," explained Randy. "If we did that they would become suspicious at once." "All right, I'll do what I can," answered Ned, and made off without delay. He came back in less than fifteen minutes, looking much excited. "How did you make out?" queried Randy, eagerly. "Great! I want you two fellows to come upstairs at once while Brown and Martell are out of their rooms. And I think you had better bring along one of the teachers as a witness." "Why, what have you learned, Ned?" questioned Andy. "I saw them down near the gymnasium, and sneaked up behind them, and by rare good luck heard them talking about two shotguns that belonged in the gun rack. They were wondering how they could get them from their rooms back into the gun rack without detection." "Hurrah! I wager we have found 'em out!" ejaculated Randy, excitedly. "Come on! let's get one of the teachers at once!" The boys were fortunate enough to fall in with Professor Brice a minute later, and in a rather excited fashion they told the teacher of what they had learned and what they proposed to do. "Why, certainly, I'll go with you," said Paul Brice, quickly. "I want just as much as anybody to get at the bottom of this affair." Accompanied by the professor, the three cadets hurried to the second floor of the Hall and then to the rooms occupied by Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell. The door to each was locked, but one of them was opened for the crowd by an assistant janitor. A hasty search revealed nothing in the shape of a firearm in either room, and the Rover boys were much disappointed. But then Randy thought of the bed, and quickly raised the mattress. On the springs rested a shotgun. "And I'll bet the other shotgun is in the other bed!" cried Andy, and he and the professor made an investigation. The fun-loving Rover's surmise was correct. "These are guns belonging to the Hall, too!" cried Ned, pointing out the mark of the school on the stocks. "They must belong down in the gun rack, just as Slugger and Martell said." "Bring those guns along, boys, and we'll go directly to Colonel Colby's office," said Professor Brice; and the cadets lost no time in doing as he directed. They found the master of the school seated at his desk, looking over a mass of papers. He gazed in wonder at the three lads and Professor Brice. "We found the shotguns that were used on those cows!" cried Randy, his eyes sparkling. "And do you know where we found 'em? In the beds that Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell use!" broke in Andy. "What's this?" And now the colonel was really startled. "You had better let the boys tell the beginning of the story, and I will tell the end," said Professor Brice. Thereupon, the two Rovers repeated the talk that had taken place in the guardroom, and then told how they had gotten Ned to spy on Brown and Martell. Then Ned told of what he had heard, and of how the three had called on Professor Brice for assistance. After that the teacher took up the narrative, ending with the finding of the shotguns in the beds. "It looks like a pretty clear case against Brown and Martell," remarked the colonel slowly. "However, I shall have to make a further investigation. I will send for Brown and Martell at once." The colonel was as good as his word, and inside of five minutes Slugger and Nappy came into the office together. They looked much disturbed, and this look increased when they saw Andy and Randy. "Brown and Martell, I have sent for you to answer a few questions," began Colonel Colby, sternly, as the two cadets faced him. "I want you to answer me directly and truthfully. What was your object in taking two of our shotguns from the gun rack and going over to Mr. Lacy's farm and shooting down two of his cows?" "Wh--wh--why, wh--wh--what do you mean?" faltered Brown. "We didn't--er--shoot--er--any cows," stammered Martell. Both boys were thrown into utter confusion, and showed it plainly. Then Slugger Brown suddenly turned to glare at the Rovers. "Is this some of your work?" he demanded. "If it is, let me tell you I'll pay you back for it!" "Stop that talk, Brown!" commanded Colonel Colby. "I want you and Martell to answer my question. Why did you go over there and shoot those cows?" "Who says we shot the cows?" questioned Nappy, faintly. "Never mind who says so. You did it, and it is useless for you to deny it. Here are the two guns you took from the gun rack and afterwards hid in your beds. And here is the despicable note you, Brown, wrote and mailed to Mr. Lacy," and the colonel held out the communication. "Oh, Colonel Colby, I di--di--didn't do it!" faltered Slugger Brown. His face had suddenly gone white, and he could scarcely speak. "Do you deny that this is your handwriting?" "I--I----Oh, is----I--I--didn't----That is----" and here Slugger Brown broke down absolutely, not knowing what to say. "Did you mail that letter or did Brown do it?" questioned the colonel, quickly turning to Martell. "He did it! I didn't have anything to do with it!" burst out Nappy, breaking down completely. "It ain't so!" cried Slugger. "He was with me, and he dropped the letter in the post-office!" "And so you killed the cows to get the Rovers into trouble?" said Colonel Colby; and now his eyes glittered like steel. "A fine thing to do, truly! I did not think any of our cadets would stoop to such a base action." "It was a--er--a joke," gasped Nappy. "A joke! To kill two valuable cows? Martell, if you talk that way, I'll be inclined to think you are losing your senses. But evidently there is something radically wrong with both you and Brown," went on the master of the Hall. "This case of the cows and the plot against the Rovers is bad enough, but I have another matter against you which may prove even worse." "What is that?" questioned Slugger, very faintly. "It is a case that Captain Larkins of the steam tug, _Mary D._, has lodged against you. He says he has absolute proof that both of you went out in a motor boat one day and tampered with the towing line and the chains of a large lumber raft, so that when a sudden squall came up on the lake, the towing line parted and the lumber raft went to pieces." "Oh, say! that must have been the squall we were out in!" exclaimed Randy. "And we got caught among that floating lumber, too!" "Yes, that was the time," answered Colonel Colby. "Oh, Colonel! can't we go to our cousins and tell them that they can have their freedom?" questioned Andy, with a sudden thought of those left in the guardroom. "Yes, Rover. Both of you and also Lowe can go," was the colonel's reply. "I will settle this affair with Brown and Martell." "And will you settle it with Mr. Lacy, too?" queried Randy, quickly. "Yes. I will fix the whole matter up. You may tell Jack and Fred that they need not worry any further on this score." And thereupon Andy, Randy and Ned hurried away to bear the glad tidings to the prisoners. Of course Jack and Fred were greatly pleased to be released. They listened eagerly to all the twins and Ned had to relate. "So Nappy and Slugger are guilty!" cried Jack. "What a mean way to act!" "And to think they are also guilty of sending that lumber adrift," said Fred. "They'll suffer for that." "They ought to suffer," answered his cousin. CHAPTER XXX A FOOTBALL VICTORY--CONCLUSION "Whoop her up for Colby Hall!" "This is the time Columbus Academy wins!" "Not on your life! This is Colby Hall day!" "You'll sing a different tune after the game is over!" "Hurrah! here come the elevens now!" And then a wild shouting, intermingled with the tooting of horns and the sounding of rattles, rent the air, while banners went waving on every side. It was the day of the great game between Colby Hall and Columbus Academy. It had been decided that the contest should take place on the field belonging to the military academy, and once again everything had been put in the best of order for this gala occasion. The grandstand and the bleachers were overflowing with spectators, and in a distant field were parked a hundred automobiles or more, while in another field were numerous carriages and farm wagons. "We've certainly got a crowd to-day," remarked Randy, who, with his brother, was in the section of the stand reserved for the Colbyites and their friends. In front of the twins and their chums sat Ruth, May, and half a dozen other girls from Clearwater Hall. "I don't see anything of Nappy Martell or Slugger Brown," remarked Ida Brierley, who was with the girls. "I hope you don't want to see them, Ida," returned Ruth, promptly. "Indeed, I do not!" answered the other girl. "I was only wondering what had become of them." "Jack told me they had both left the Hall for the term. They shot those cows, you know, and they had some other trouble which was hushed up." "Oh, that was the trouble over that lumber raft," put in Jennie Mason. "Right you are!" answered Andy, bending over and speaking in a low tone so that no outsider might hear. "Their folks had to pony up a pretty penny, too, for the lumber and for the cows." "Oh, well, let's forget Martell and Brown," broke in May. "I want to enjoy this game." "And that's what we all want to do," said Alice Strobell. What had been said concerning Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell was true. Questioned by Colonel Colby, the two misguided cadets had finally broken down utterly and confessed everything, telling how they had once gotten into a quarrel with Captain Larkins on the lake and how they had sought to get square by tampering with the fastenings of the lumber raft and the towline; and they had also related the particulars of how they had watched Jack and Fred go out shooting and had then purloined the two shotguns from the gun rack and hurried over to the Lacy farm to shoot the cows. Mr. Brown and Mr. Martell had been called upon to pay both the lake captain and the old farmer heavy damages; and thereupon they had withdrawn their sons from the Hall for the time being. "And I'm glad they're gone," had been Fred's comment. "I hope they never come back here again." "Yes, we could do without Brown and Martell very well," had been Jack's answer. Both of the cousins were particularly happy on this day. Jack occupied his former position on the eleven, and Fred had been drafted from the scrub team and put on the substitutes' bench in place of Brown. "Maybe I'll get a chance to play!" cried the youngest Rover eagerly, when the football captain brought him the news. "Perhaps so, Fred," answered Gif. "Although, of course, I hope none of our players get hurt." As the Colby Hall eleven marched out on the gridiron, Jack glanced towards the grandstand and caught Ruth's eye. The girl gaily waved a Colby Hall banner at him. Then May caught sight of Fred on the side lines, and shook her hand at him. Spectators from the town were almost as much interested in the contest as were the two schools. This football game was always the big match of the season, and many wagers were placed on the result. In the past the contests had always been exceedingly bitter, with the various scores almost a tie, Columbus Academy winning by a narrow margin one year and Colby Hall taking the lead by an equally narrow margin the following year. When the Columbus Academy boys came out on the field, it was seen that they were good, husky fellows, every bit as heavy as the Colby Hall eleven. They looked in the pink of condition. "I am afraid our boys will have their work cut out for them in this game," remarked Mr. Crews to Colonel Colby. "Well, our boys look pretty fit," answered the master of the Hall. By the toss of a coin, Columbus Academy won the choice of position, and took the west goal, the slight wind that was blowing being in their favor. Then the two teams lined up for the kick-off. "Now then, boys, show 'em what you can do!" yelled the Colby Hall cadets, and then the school slogan rang out on the air. "Put it all over 'em, boys!" yelled one of the Columbus Academy followers. "Come on now, all together!" he added, and started up a song, the refrain of which contained the line: "We're here to-day to bury them!" "What an awful song to sing!" remarked Ruth. "Oh, you mustn't mind that," returned Andy, gaily. "He sings best who sings last, as the cat said to the bird." It must be confessed that both teams were rather nervous at the outset of the contest. The play was decidedly ragged, and one or two mistakes were made, which, however, profited neither side anything. The ball was carried first to the Colby Hall 10-yard line, and from there it went back to the Columbus 15-yard line, and then it sawed back and forth until eight minutes of the first quarter had passed. "Gee! this begins to look like a blank," was Spouter's comment. "So it does," returned Dan Soppinger. "Say! can any of you tell me why the----" "Don't ask questions now, Dan," interrupted Randy. "Oh, look! look!" he burst out suddenly. "Isn't that great!" The ball had dribbled back and forth until, by a punt, it reached Colby Hall's 20-yard line. It landed close to Jack, and like a flash he gathered it to his breast and started for the Columbus goal. "Go it, Rover! go it!" "Don't let 'em down you, Jack!" With his friends cheering lustily, Jack sped on, dodging many straight-arm tackles, and skipping from right to left and then back again in order to avoid the numerous players who seemed to confront him as if by magic. Then somebody appeared on his left, and the next moment he went down with a thud, not knowing where he had landed. "It's a touchdown!" was the cry, and then the Colby Hall followers went wild with delight, while Columbus Academy was mute. The girls stood up in the grandstand and waved their banners gaily. "Oh, just to think, Jack did it!" murmured Ruth, and her face showed her intense satisfaction. "Now if only Walt Baxter can kick a goal!" cried Randy. But this was not to be, for at the moment the leather sailed through the air, a strong puff of wind came up and the ball went just outside the posts. "Well, never mind," cried Randy, consolingly; "that puts us in the lead." The run had somewhat exhausted Jack, but still he insisted upon keeping on playing, and after the wonderful exhibition he had made, Gif had not the heart to call in a substitute to take his place. But if, with a touchdown in their favor, Colby thought to remain in the lead, they soon had this hope shattered. The Columbus Academy eleven played a fast and snappy second quarter, and, as a result, before it was half over they took the ball on a fumble and circled the left end for twelve yards. "Say, that's going some," remarked Fatty. "Oh, it won't net them anything," responded Andy. But in this he was wrong, for on the next two plays Columbus carried the ball over the line for a touchdown. "A tie! A tie!" yelled the followers of the Academy. "Now then, boys, don't miss the goal!" "It isn't likely they'll miss it," grumbled Andy. "The wind is in their favor." The goal was kicked with ease, and then the score stood: Columbus Academy--7, Colby Hall--6. During the intermission between the second and third quarters, Gif and Mr. Crews gave the eleven some very pointed instructions. One player had hurt his ankle slightly, and he was taken out and a substitute took his place. But the substitute was not Fred, much to that youth's disappointment. If the first and second quarters had been fast and snappy, the third quarter was even more so. Back and forth went the ball, and it was lost both by Colby Hall and by the Academy team. There were some really fine tackles and splendid runs, but all of these availed nothing. And when the whistle blew the score still stood 6 for Colby Hall as against 7 for Columbus Academy. "Tough luck!" groaned Ned. "Oh, we're going to win--I'm sure of it!" answered Randy. "I hope what you say proves true," returned Ruth, hopefully. Just before the whistle was given for the end of the third quarter there had been a grand crash and a fierce mix-up on the field. Then it was found that both a Columbus Academy player and a Colby Hall youth would have to be taken out of the game. "Now then, Fred, here's your chance," said Gif, coming up to the youngest Rover. "I'm going to put you in, and I want you to help us win the game." "Win it is!" cried Fred, his eyes shining eagerly. "We'll either win or we'll die!" When the whistle blew for the final quarter, all of the players who trooped on the field had a do-or-die expression on their faces. Once more the play became fast and furious, and, as a result, in less than three minutes Columbus Academy scored another touchdown, which, however, failed of a goal. "Hurrah! That's the way to do it!" yelled their followers in keen delight. "Brace up, boys! brace up! This won't do at all. Come on now, all together!" And then Colby Hall went in with renewed vigor so that inside of a few minutes more they, too, had scored another touchdown, and from this they managed to kick a goal. "Hello! what do you know about that! Another tie!" "Thirteen to thirteen! Same as that other game! Say, this is getting mighty interesting!" So far, Fred, although he had played as hard as anybody in the game, had failed to make any appreciable showing. Now, however, with only a few minutes to spare, he saw his chance. One of the Columbus Academy players had dropped back for a punt. Fred, who was close at hand, made a sudden leap over a protecting half back and blocked the kick. "Say, look at that! Fred Rover is in the game for keeps!" "Send it back, Fred! Send it back!" The words were scarcely spoken when the thrilled spectators saw that the youngest Rover boy had the leather. Like a flash he sent it rolling back, Gif coming to his aid. "A safety! A safety for Colby Hall!" "Hurrah! that puts Colby two points ahead!" "Good work for Fred Rover!" "Now then, Colby Hall, you've got 'em a-going! Keep it up!" "Pitch into 'em, Columbus! Pitch into 'em!" So the yelling went on while all of the spectators stood up in their seats, anxious to see what might be accomplished next. But there was no time to do more. The whistle blew and the great game was over. Colby Hall had won! In a twinkling the huge field was covered with spectators running in all directions, and the victorious eleven was surrounded. Many were the congratulations showered on all the players, and it may well be believed that Jack and Fred came in for their full share. "The finest game I ever saw," declared Colonel Colby, as he shook hands with all his youthful players. "Oh, Jack! It was simply grand--that run you made!" exclaimed Ruth, when she saw him. "Yes. And the way you played for that safety!" put in May to Fred. Columbus Academy was much disheartened over its defeat, yet it cheered the victors and was cheered in return; and then the great crowd gradually dispersed. "Bonfire to-night, boys! And a big one, too!" cried Andy, as he rushed up to fairly embrace both his cousins. Then, to work off some of his high spirits, the acrobatic youth turned several cartwheels and handsprings. "What a pity our folks weren't here to see this game," said Jack, wistfully. "Never mind, we'll write them all the particulars," announced Randy. "And we'll send them copies of the local paper, too. That will have a full account of it," and this was done as soon as possible. After the game refreshments were served to the cadets and their particular friends, and in this, of course, the Rovers and the girls from Clearwater Hall joined. Then the boys took the girls back to their school in an automobile. "We are certainly having one dandy time at this school," remarked Fred, on the way back to Colby Hall. "Right you are!" answered Randy. "If only we hadn't had that trouble with Slugger and Nappy," remarked Jack. "Oh, don't bother about those fellows!" cried Andy. "I don't believe they'll ever trouble any of us again." But in this he was mistaken. Brown and Martell did trouble them, and in what manner will be related in the next volume of this series, to be entitled: "The Rover Boys on Snowshoe Island; or, The Old Lumberman's Treasure Box." In that volume we shall meet all the boys and their chums again, and also learn the particulars of a queer mystery, and also of a great joke played upon Professor Asa Lemm. The cadets of Colby Hall were a happy crowd that night. A great bonfire blazed along the bank of the river, and around this the boys cut up to their hearts' content. Then they marched around and around the Hall, singing loudly. "It's certainly a dandy school, isn't it?" remarked Jack to his cousins. "The best ever!" they answered in a chorus. And here for the present we will leave the Rover boys and say good-bye. THE END This Isn't All! Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have made in this book? Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author? On the _reverse side_ of the wrapper which comes with this book, you will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at the same store where you got this book. Don't throw away the Wrapper _Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day to have. But in case you do mislay it, write to the Publishers for a complete catalog._ THE HARDY BOYS SERIES By FRANKLIN W. DIXON Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself The Hardy Boys are sons of a celebrated American detective, and during vacations and their off time from school they help their father by hunting down clues themselves. THE TOWER TREASURE--A dying criminal confessed that his loot had been secreted "in the tower." It remained for the Hardy Boys to clear up the mystery. THE HOUSE ON THE CLIFF--Mr. Hardy started to investigate--and disappeared! An odd tale, with plenty of excitement. THE SECRET OF THE OLD MILL--Counterfeit money was in circulation, and the limit was reached when Mrs. Hardy took some from a stranger. A tale full of thrills. THE MISSING CHUMS--Two of the Hardy Boys' chums disappear and are almost rescued by their friends when all are captured. A thrilling story of adventure. HUNTING FOR HIDDEN GOLD--In tracing some stolen gold the trail leads the boys to an abandoned mine, and there things start to happen. THE SHORE ROAD MYSTERY--Automobiles were disappearing most mysteriously from the Shore Road. It remained for the Hardy Boys to solve the mystery. THE SECRET OF THE CAVES--When the boys reached the caves they came unexpectedly upon a queer old hermit. THE MYSTERY OF CABIN ISLAND--A story of queer adventures on a rockbound island. THE GREAT AIRPORT MYSTERY--The Hardy Boys solve the mystery of the disappearance of some valuable mail. WHAT HAPPENED AT MIDNIGHT--The boys follow a trail that ends in a strange and exciting situation. WHILE THE CLOCK TICKED--The Hardy Boys aid in vindicating a man who has been wrongly accused of a crime. FOOTPRINTS UNDER THE WINDOW--The Smuggling of Chinese into this country is the basis of this story in which the boys find thrills and excitement aplenty. GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK TED SCOTT FLYING STORIES By FRANKLIN W. DIXON Illustrated. Each Volume Complete in Itself. No subject has so thoroughly caught the imagination of young America as aviation. This series has been inspired by recent daring feats of the air, and is dedicated to Lindbergh, Byrd, Chamberlin and other heroes of the skies. OVER THE OCEAN TO PARIS; _or, Ted Scott's Daring Long Distance Flight._ RESCUED IN THE CLOUDS; _or, Ted Scott, Hero of the Air._ OVER THE ROCKIES WITH THE AIR MAIL; _or, Ted Scott Lost in the Wilderness._ FIRST STOP HONOLULU; _or, Ted Scott Over the Pacific._ THE SEARCH FOR THE LOST FLYERS; _or, Ted Scott Over the West Indies._ SOUTH OF THE RIO GRANDE; _or, Ted Scott On a Secret Mission._ ACROSS THE PACIFIC; _or, Ted Scott's Hop to Australia._ THE LONE EAGLE OF THE BORDER; _or, Ted Scott and the Diamond Smugglers._ FLYING AGAINST TIME; _or, Breaking the Ocean to Ocean Record._ OVER THE JUNGLE TRAILS; _or, Ted Scott and the Missing Explorers._ LOST AT THE SOUTH POLE; _or, Ted Scott in Blizzard Land._ THROUGH THE AIR TO ALASKA; _or, Ted Scott's Search in Nugget Valley._ FLYING TO THE RESCUE; _or, Ted Scott and the Big Dirigible._ DANGER TRAILS OF THE SKY; _or, Ted Scott's Great Mountain Climb._ FOLLOWING THE SUN SHADOW; _or, Ted Scott and the Great Eclipse._ BATTLING THE WIND; _or, Ted Scott Flying Around Cape Horn._ GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK THE AVIATION SERIES By JOHN PRENTICE LANGLEY Here is an intensely exciting series on a topic of worldwide interest--Aviation. Every day one hears of new stunts accomplished by pilots. With the passing of each year new records in altitude and long distance are made. In these stories Amos Green and his chum, Danny Cooper, accomplish all the thrilling deeds of the air that have been done before only by hardened veterans. Moreover, backed by the mysterious "Mr. Carstairs" they succeed in doing stunts new to the history of aviation. You'll find them vastly exciting. TRAIL BLAZERS OF THE SKIES SPANNING THE PACIFIC MASTERS THE AIR-LANES THE PATHFINDER'S GREAT FLIGHT AIR VOYAGERS OF THE ARCTIC DESERT HAWKS ON THE WING CHASING THE SETTING SUN BRIDGING THE SEVEN SEAS THE STAIRCASE OF THE WIND GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK BOB CHASE BIG GAME SERIES By FRANK A. WARNER In these thrilling stories of outdoor life the hero is a young lumberjack who is a crack rifle shot. While tracking game in the Maine woods he does some rich hunters a great service. They become interested in him and take him on various hunting expeditions in this country and abroad. Bob learns what it is to face not only wildcats, foxes and deer but also bull moose, Rocky Mountain grizzly bears and many other species of big game. BOB CHASE WITH THE BIG MOOSE HUNTERS BOB CHASE AFTER GRIZZLY BEARS BOB CHASE IN THE TIGER'S LAIR BOB CHASE WITH THE LION HUNTERS GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK BUDDY BOOKS FOR BOYS Illustrated. Individual Colored Wrappers Tales of Western pioneer days and the California gold fields; tales of mystery, humor, adventure; thrilling stories of sports and aviation. There is a wide range of subjects in this list of titles--all by well-known authors of books for boys. HOT DOG PARTNERS By William Heyliger YOUNG EAGLE OF THE TRAIL By J. Allan Dunn THE LAND OF MONSTERS By Harold M. Sherman QUARTERBACK HOTHEAD By William Heyliger LEFTY LEIGHTON By Percy Keese Fitzhugh NUMBER 44 By Harold M. Sherman BILL DARROW'S VICTORY By William Heyliger THE STORY OF TERRIBLE TERRY By Percy Keese Fitzhugh BEYOND THE DOG'S NOSE By Harold M. Sherman DING PALMER, AIR DETECTIVE By Harold M. Sherman BEAN-BALL BILL By William Heyliger CAMERON MacBAIN, BACKWOODSMAN By Harold M. Sherman FLYING HEELS By Harold M. Sherman FLASHING STEEL By Harold M. Sherman BUFFALO BOY By J. Allan Dunn THE CLOUD PATROL By Irving Crump SPIFFY HENSHAW By Percy Keese Fitzhugh THE PILOT OF THE CLOUD PATROL By Irving Crump DON RADER, TRAIL BLAZER By Harold M. Sherman TUCK SIMMS, FORTY-NINER By Edward Leonard WIGWAG WEIGAND By Percy Keese Fitzhugh HERVEY WILLETTS By Percy Keese Fitzhugh SKINNY McCORD By Percy Keese Fitzhugh GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK 
27751	----	[Illustration: "_I shall tell you nothing_," _said Jack finally_.] THE HILLTOP BOYS A STORY OF SCHOOL LIFE BY CYRIL BURLEIGH [Illustration] THE GOLDSMITH PUBLISHING CO. CLEVELAND MADE IN U. S. A. COPYRIGHT 1917 PRESS OF THE COMMERCIAL BOOKBINDING CO. CLEVELAND CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I THE BEGINNING OF THE TERM 13 II A HITCH IN JACK'S WELCOME 21 III SOME OF THE BOYS AND THEIR WAYS 29 IV ANOTHER ATTEMPTED HAZING 36 V THE HAZERS ARE HAZED 45 VI BILLY'S LITTLE JOKE 54 VII A TOUCH OF EXCITEMENT 63 VIII WHAT JACK FOUND IN THE RAVINE 71 IX ANOTHER OF JACK'S ACCOMPLISHMENTS 79 X AN INTERVIEW IN THE WOODS 88 XI A BIT OF SIGNAL WORK 94 XII THE TROUBLES OF AN EDITOR 102 XIII TRYING TO FIX THE BLAME 111 XIV "SUSPICION IS NOT PROOF" 117 XV FUN AND EXCITEMENT 125 XVI AN ANONYMOUS ACCUSATION 132 XVII THE MATTER SETTLED 138 XVIII AN EXPLORING TRIP THROUGH THE WOODS 144 XIX MORE THAN ONE WAY OUT 153 XX WHAT BILLY'S CAMERA REVEALED 160 XXI A PUZZLING AFFAIR 169 XXII LIGHT ON THE SUBJECT 175 XXIII ON THE WAY HOME 181 XXIV HOW IT ALL CAME OUT 185 THE HILLTOP BOYS CHAPTER I THE BEGINNING OF THE TERM "I say, Art, let's take a run down to the train. There will be sure to be some of the old fellows on it and perhaps some new ones." "Yes, for I heard the doctor tell Buck to have the coach and horses ready, as he expected several of the young gentlemen to come on the afternoon train. Why can't we go down with Buck instead of going alone?" "Because Mr. Bucephalus, called Buck for short, objects to doing any more work than he is obliged to. We can ride back with him. That is vastly preferable to pedaling up the hill." "So it is, Harry, but I don't mind coasting down. Come on, there is the train now, just leaving the station below." Two bright looking boys of about fifteen, dressed in a half-military fashion, stood on a terrace in front of a rambling, two-story building overlooking the surrounding country, the Hudson River being seen in the distance at the foot of a mountain of considerable height, everything being most distinct in the clear Autumn air, the steamboats on the river, the roof of the little railroad station and the puff of smoke from the engine as it pulled out being seen very clearly. The rambling, two-story building on the top of the hill was the Academy and the boys were two of the pupils who were here a little in advance of the rest to begin the new term, were, in fact, some of the Hilltop Boys as they were called by the people of the town on the river where the train on the branch road was now going at a fair speed, the incline increasing with the distance from the station. Arthur Warren and Harry Dickson hurried off to the stables where the wheels of the boys were kept, selected their own, mounted quickly and set out along the Academy drive to the road leading to the station, this being a mile or more distant, although in a straight line it was much less. From the river to the station nearest the Academy it was five miles, but on account of the grade and the numerous stops the two boys had plenty of time to reach the railroad before the train which they had seen leaving the river station could arrive. "Did the Doctor say who was coming, Art?" asked Harry, as they reached the road, set their brakes and started down the hill. "Dick Percival generally comes at this time." "Yes, I believe the black fellow said he expected Master Dick. He always likes to fetch Dick up and will go for him at any time, day or night." "To be sure, for Dick always gives him a tip." The hill down which the two boys were now gliding at a good rate was quite steep, there being a decided drop a few rods in advance and a number of sharp turns, the rounding of which required considerable dexterity and the coolest of heads. They were two-thirds of the way down and had reached the steepest part of the hill when, in rounding a particularly sharp turn where they had to keep all their wits about them, they saw just ahead of them, in the middle of the road, a boy carrying a suitcase. "Hi! get out of the road!" roared Harry, taking a tighter grip on his handle bars and apprehending trouble. "Look out!" cried Arthur in shrill tones. The boy in the middle of the road, not more than fifty feet distant at this moment, stood perfectly still and cried in a clear voice, sure to be heard above everything else: "Swerve a bit to the side, both of you and there will be room enough." Simultaneously, he made a quick signal to the right and to the left. Arthur steered a little to the right while Harry went to the left, both whizzing past the boy in the middle of the road who held his suitcase in front of him and stood perfectly still. Neither of the boys even grazed him but there was little room to spare and the wind of the two wheels caused his coat to flutter violently and almost took off his soft hat. In a moment more both boys were speeding down the hill at a tremendous gait and in another were out of sight around another and less sharp turn. "My word! but that was a close shave!" ejaculated Harry, with a sigh and a feeling of intense relief. "I made sure that we were going to get spilled, the three of us." "Some cool head that!" returned Arthur. "Lots of fellows would have gone all to pieces. I came pretty near doing it myself." "He knew just what to do and when to do it," Harry went on. "Only for that there would have been a bad mix-up." "Well, there wasn't!" grunted Arthur, "so don't say any more about it. It gives me the creeps to think of it. That fellow has some nerve. Wonder what he was doing on our road? You can't get anywhere except to Hilltop Academy that way. If he's a new student why didn't he come with Bucephalus and the coach?" "Can't tell you. Maybe he didn't know anything about it." The boys reached the bottom of the hill without further incident and went on to the little railroad station, hearing the sound of the expected train as they dismounted and stacked their wheels. The colored coachman of the Academy, who bore the high-sounding name of Bucephalus, but who was almost always called Buck by the boys and by the people of the town at the foot of the hill, sat on his box as if carved out of black marble and neither looked to the right nor the left, considering it beneath his dignity to converse with any one in the village while on duty and seeming to see no one. "Did you meet a young fellow going up the hill as you were coming down, Buck?" asked Harry, stepping alongside the big coach. "A new fellow, do you think, Bucephalus?" "Ah dunno, sah, Ah done paid no attention to anybody Ah met on de road, sah. Ah done had 'nuff to do to look aftah mah hosses witho't catechisin' or scrutinizin' strangers, sah." The whistle of the train was heard again at that moment and in a short time it arrived and many of the passengers alighted, among them being two or three boys who were warmly welcomed by the two students. "Hello, Dick, back again, eh? Glad of it. How are you, Billy, how do, Tom? Ready for work, of course?" "And incidentally, a bit of fun," replied one of the newcomers. "Hope we will have a good crowd this term. Any new ones to put through their paces and make toe the mark?" The boys chatted and laughed at a lively rate while their trunks and valises were being put on top and behind the coach and then all got inside, Bucephalus objecting when Harry and Arthur put their wheels on the rear rack and took their seats with the others. "Yo' young ge'men am discommodin' de reg'lah passengers an' taking up mo' room dan Ah speckerlated on," he muttered. "Whyn't yo' go back de same way yo' come?" "Walk and wheel our bikes?" cried Harry. "Not much. There's room for all of us and I want to talk with Dick." "That's all right, Buck," said Dick Percival, one of the newcomers, a handsome boy of sixteen, strong, well built and sturdy, slyly passing something to the coachman. "Come up on the box, Harry. I have a lot to tell you. Come on, there's lots of room." The two boys sat on the box alongside the coachman who set off up the hill for the Academy and Dick at once began to tell of an adventure which had happened to him during the vacation. "I was taking a hike up in the fruit country," he began, "and in making my way across lots lost my bearings and came out in a peach orchard where I could not see the road nor a house nor anything. Two rough-looking fellows, fruit pickers, and they are not the best men to meet even if they are sober, and these were not, came up and looked rather hostile and threatening. I had considerable money with me and although I could have met either one of the men singly, did not feel like engaging both of them. It was either a case of run or be outmatched, and I was puzzled what to do." "What did you do?" asked Harry, interested. "They must have been pretty husky fellows for you to decline meeting them." "A young fellow in overalls and a rough shirt who was picking peaches in a tree, I had not seen him at first, suddenly appeared and ordered the men to get to work and then the boss happened up and sent them away. The boy went back to his picking and the man gave me directions how to reach the road. I suppose the boy was a picker just like the rest but at any rate he had some idea of fairness. He spoke well and I was astonished to see him with the rest but you can't always tell." "Art and I had a close call this afternoon," said Harry. "We were coming down the Academy hill on our bikes when, at one of the worst places in it, we came upon a young fellow. It looked as if we would run him down but he stood stock still and with all the nerve in the world, whisked his arm first to the right and then to the left as a signal to us. We just flew past but did not hit him and it was a mercy we didn't. Only for his coolness there would have been a bad upset for the lot of us." "It was very fortunate that there wasn't. Did you know him?" "No, never saw him before." "What was he doing on the Academy hill?" "I'm sure I don't know. That's what bothered Art and me." The coach went on up the hill and at last stopped in front of the Academy and the boys began to alight. Dr. Theophilus Wise, the principal, was standing on the front veranda with a good-looking boy in a brown suit and soft hat. "This is a new pupil, young gentlemen," said the doctor, coming forward with the strange boy. "Let me make you acquainted with John Sheldon. I trust that you will make him at home." "Why, that's the boy that Art and I met on the road," whispered Harry to his companion as they were descending. "It is? Why, that is the first picker I was telling you of." "Oh!" said Harry in a tone of disappointment. CHAPTER II A HITCH IN JACK'S WELCOME Dick Percival was the son of wealthy parents, was made much of at home and at school was admired and flattered by the boys of his own set and looked up to by the younger ones who took him as their model and regarded him as a hero. He was the leading spirit in the school and, being high in his studies, and first in all the athletic sports indulged in by the boys, ranked well with both professors and students, so that whatever he did was considered to be about right. What he did now was, therefore, a salve to the wounded pride of Harry Dickson, who resented having a mere berry picker enrolled among the students of the Academy and taking equal rank with boys of wealth and position. As soon as he was down from the coach, Dick went straight to the new boy, extended his hand cordially and said in his most agreeable voice and with a smile on his handsome face: "I am glad to see you again. Welcome to the ranks of the Hilltop boys. You remember me? You did me a great service a short time ago and I am not likely to forget either that or yourself. My name is Dick Percival. Shake hands, Jack, if you will let me call you so." "I have no objection," said the other, taking the boy's hand with as much cordiality as it was offered. "I remember you now but what I did was nothing. You are very kind and I will endeavor to repay you in any way I can." The other boys now pressed forward and Harry was as cordial as Dick himself in welcoming the new boy to the school. "You saved us a bad accident, old chap," he said, shaking Jack Sheldon's hand. "If it had not been for your coolness I would have gone all to bits in a moment. I am obliged to you and if I can do anything for you at any time just let me know." "It was a ticklish moment," answered Jack, "but you two boys sized up the situation as quickly as I did and acted just as you should have acted so that as much credit belongs to you as you are ready to give to me. I am glad that all came out so well." Harry introduced Arthur and in a short time the new boy was acquainted with all the boys then at the Academy and apparently on good terms with all of them, Dick Percival's advances toward the newcomer having given the others their cue, so to speak. More boys came that afternoon and in the early evening, some by train or boat and some in private conveyances, the greater part of those expected to enter upon the new term being on hand that night. There were nearly a hundred of the Hilltop boys, the majority hailing from New York but many other states were represented, the Academy having a national reputation and being considered one of the best schools for boys to be found anywhere. It was conducted under military rules and had besides a retired army officer to drill the boys, a corps of competent instructors in many branches, sending its graduates to the leading colleges and universities of the land. As the boys' duties would not begin until the next day they were at liberty to do as they pleased that evening and after supper, which was had in the great dining hall, Jack took a stroll with Dick, Harry and one or two others of his new acquaintances. "Dick told us how you helped him out of a scrape," said Harry, as they were entering a bit of woods in the rear of the Academy. "He took you for a berry picker. That was funny, wasn't----" "But I was one," said Jack. "I picked all summer, strawberries, raspberries and currants and then peaches and some grapes. I made enough to pay my schooling for----" "Yes, but you were not one of the regulars," broke in Harry. "They are nothing but a lot of tramps, I believe." "There are tramps that do the work, of course, but the regulars, as you call them are not. They work up from the south and go as far as the western part of the state and into Pennsylvania before the season is over. Many of the boys and girls, too, in our part of the state earn money that way and I don't see that there is anything----" "Wrong in it?" interrupted Dick, who noticed the prejudice of the other boys. "Of course there isn't. Be careful about this place, Jack. There is a ravine which is very steep and a fall would not be a pleasant adventure. Stick close to me and you will be all right." Nothing more was said about the manner in which the new boy had earned money for his schooling but even a casual observer would have noticed that neither Harry nor Arthur were as cordial in their treatment of him after that and he and Dick did all the talking. The greater part of the boys slept in big dormitories on the upper story of the Academy building, a few especially favored ones having rooms to themselves either there or in one of the cottages adjoining, Dick Percival being one of these. Jack was assigned to one of the large dormitories and found himself associated with Harry Dickson and a number of boys whom he had seen very little of when it came time to go to bed at ten o'clock that night. His suitcase had been brought up and one of a number of lockers was assigned to him in which he could keep his clothes, there being a small portable iron washstand in front of it at the head of his bed which was about ten feet distant from the next on either side. There was a row of beds running along two sides of the room with a space of ten feet between the rows, so that there was plenty of room for every one and yet the boys were near enough to converse with each other if they chose before the lights were put out, this being done outside by one of the professors. Jack saw four or five boys gathered in a knot while he was undressing and caught a few words of their conversation which was carried on in low tones, paying no attention to it, however, and not seeming to have heard it. "We must give him a welcome to the Academy," said Harry. "As soon as the lights go out, make a rush and be sure and get the water jug before he gets up," put in Arthur. "Oh, we know where everything is, all right," muttered Billy Manners, a lively young fellow whom Jack had noticed at the supper table, who seemed to be always making jokes at something or other. "We have done this before, you know." "It was just as well that I thought there might be something of this sort and got ready for it," thought Jack, but as far as any of the boys could see he was entirely unsuspicious of their pleasant intentions. He undressed himself quietly, now and then saying something to one or another of the boys who addressed him, and then, just before he got into bed, quietly dropped something on the floor on each side of the bed without being noticed. He had taken whatever it was from his suitcase and had not been observed, his motions being quick and with no appearance of stealth or a suspicion of the other boys' designs. All the boys were in bed a few minutes before the electric lights were extinguished and talked among themselves on matters of little importance, Jack saying little, however, but calculating how long it would take the nearest boy to reach him and fixing the position of the water jug well in his mind without turning to look at it. The lights were extinguished from a switch-board in the doctor's room as soon as the clock struck, so that it was not necessary to go up to the dormitories at all. There would be no one in the hall outside, therefore, and so whatever noise the boys might make would not be heard by the doctor or any of the professors. The clock struck ten and as the last stroke sounded the lights went out and in a moment all was dark in the dormitory. Then there was a sudden rush and Jack sat up in bed, turned and reached for the water jug which was just behind him. Swift but light footsteps were heard approaching the bed on three sides and then there was a sudden howl, or chorus of howls from all sides. "Wow! what's that?" "Ouch! who left tacks on the floor?" "Gee whiz! stop that!" Jack had strewn a few small tacks on the floor and the boys who had meant to give him a little hazing had stepped upon them in the dark. One of the invaders fell against the bed and at once the water jug tumbled over upon him or at any rate that was what he supposed had happened in his confusion. "What's the matter, boys?" asked Jack, quietly, and then a flash of light from a pocket searchlight shone from the bed. "Tacks!" exclaimed one. "Waterspouts!" ejaculated another, he who had been drenched by the contents of the jug. "Do you often have these little affairs, boys?" asked Jack, with provoking coolness. "Do you enjoy them?" Two of the boys were sitting on the edge of their beds taking tacks out of their feet while another was looking for a dry night shirt in his locker. The others looked rather sheepish and no attempt was made to rush in upon Jack who said with the least suspicion of a laugh: "Better go to bed, boys. Some one might have heard the noise and be coming up to investigate." Then the light suddenly went out as steps were heard in the hall outside and all was still within. Whoever was outside was evidently unsuspicious of what had happened within for the footsteps passed the door and went on down the hall and not a word was heard. "I guess that was one on us," muttered Billy Manners when all was quiet again, "and we'd better let it go at that and score a point for the new fellow." Evidently, his advice was taken for there was no more disturbance in the dormitory for the rest of the night and in the morning when the bell sounded for the boys to get up Jack was out of bed before any of his new companions. CHAPTER III SOME OF THE BOYS AND THEIR WAYS The boys were awakened at six o'clock, went into chapel at half past six, had breakfast at seven, went through a drill from eight to nine and then went into the general schoolroom and were busy till noon, when they were dismissed to get ready for dinner. Nothing was said about the event of the night before but several of the boys gave Jack sly winks and it was quite evident that there would be no repetition of the hazing. When they went out to drill, Dick Percival said to Jack: "Well, my boy, it seems to me as if you showed just as cool a head last night as you did in the afternoon when you stood in the road and directed the two fellows who were rushing down upon you on their bikes. I would have liked to seen the fun." "If they had not talked about it I would not have known anything of it," replied Jack, "but how did you hear of it?" "Oh, Billy Manners thought it was too good a joke to keep even if you did soak him with the contents of the water jug," laughed Dick. "I don't think he upset it as some of the boys think." Jack said nothing and the subject was dropped for the time. Later, Billy Manners himself came to Jack and said, good-naturedly: "That was one on us, Sheldon, but I don't hold it up against you. I would like to know how you suspected us, however. Have you been to other schools where they practised this sort of thing?" "No, I have never been away to school before but if fellows will talk of their plans they need not be astonished if somebody overhears." "True enough!" rejoined Billy, with a chuckle. "I never thought of that. I supposed we were speaking low, however." "You spoke in whispers and you can hear a whisper farther than you can hear a low tone." "H'm! I never knew that. That's something to remember." After dinner and before they went back to the school room several of the boys, Jack among the rest, were standing in front of the main building when Peter Herring, a big, brawny fellow with a disagreeable face and manner said brusquely to the new boy: "I say, Sheldon, who are you anyhow? Who's your father?" Jack flushed crimson and then turned pale and for a moment seemed greatly agitated but he quickly gained his composure and said quietly: "My father is dead." "Well, what was he then?" pursued the other in the same disagreeable tone he had before used. "A gentleman," answered Jack, pointedly, and then turned away and spoke to Harry and Arthur. "H'm! you got it that time, Pete!" roared Ernest Merritt, Herring's chum and a boy with a reputation for bullying and also of toadying to the richer boys and snubbing the poor ones. "That hit you. Did you hear how he said 'a gentleman,' my boy? Your father is something dif----" "Mind your business!" snapped Herring, darting a look at Jack which boded no good for the latter and then walking away with a sulky air. "Did you notice how Jack flushed when Herring asked him who his father was?" asked Harry of Arthur when Jack had left them. "There is some mystery there." "I don't see it. Jack would naturally be angry when spoken to in that tone. Herring is a bully and no gentleman, as Jack indicated." "That's true enough, but Jack turned red and then white and was evidently under a considerable agitation. There is some mystery, take my word for it." "Well, suppose there is?" rejoined Arthur. "It is certainly no business of ours and I am not going to meddle with it." "Well, neither am I," with a little snap, "but I can have my opinion, can't I?" "Certainly," and there was nothing more said, the boys being good friends and though having little differences at times, never quarreled. While Arthur and Harry were having this conversation Herring said angrily to Merritt: "What did you want to say that for? My father is as good as yours. I'll give it to Sheldon for talking back to me." "You started it," growled Merritt. "You're always picking on the new fellows." "So are you," snapped Herring. "You're a regular bully. Never mind, though. There is something crooked about Sheldon or his family and I'm going to find it. I don't associate with tramp berry pickers and the rest of the boys won't when I find out things." "Dick Percival goes with him," muttered Merritt, pointing to where the rich man's son and Jack Sheldon were walking together arm in arm. "Percival is a swell and his father is richer than yours and a lot more----" "A lot more what?" snarled Herring, clenching his fist. "Respectable!" snapped Merritt, hastily retreating. "Don't mind what a fellow like Herring says, Jack," said Dick Percival, kindly, putting his arm in the new boy's. "No one of any account pays any attention to him. A fellow that can show the nerve you can has nothing to fear from Pete Herring." "I am not afraid of him, Dick," Jack answered, "but----" and then he stopped and went on in silence. "It's all right," said Dick, at length. "A boy that stands as high as you do in your classes need not be afraid of Pete Herring's condemnation. I believe I shall have to hustle or you will be up to me before I know it." "That's what I'm here for, to get ahead as fast as I can," laughed the other, who in his examination that morning had showed that he was by no means a backward scholar. The first day of the new term was spent mostly in getting things into shape for the days that were to come and the regular routine was not as strictly observed as it would be later, new boys being tried out, new methods experimented upon and everything being made ready for the fall and winter. There were several new boys in addition to Jack Sheldon and one or two of these were as advanced as he was but the greater part went into the lower classes and would make the material of which the Academy would be composed at a later period, Dr. Wise taking them under his particular care and forming their characters for the future as he put it. In the course of two or three days the machinery of the school was running as smoothly as if it had been in operation for a month, the boys knowing what was expected of them and the professors keeping them rigidly to their work and attending to their own duties with unflagging zeal. Jack took an interest in his work and was stimulated by knowing that much was expected of him and that there were others who desired to overtake him in his studies, this very emulation helping him to do his best. The greater part of the boys were his friends and he gave little attention to those who were not, keeping on good terms with them while not having much to do with them. As far as he was concerned, however, the boys knew no more of him at the end of the week than they had known at the beginning and many of them decided that it was as well to let him remain a mystery until he chose to further enlighten them. Without being churlish or obstinate, Jack was reserved and all they knew, which could have been obtained outside as well as from him was that he lived in another county, some ten miles distant, that he was the only child of a worthy widow and that he was paying for his schooling out of money that he had earned or would earn from his own efforts in one line or another. "At any rate if he does have to earn the money to carry him through," said Billy Manners to a number of the boys one afternoon when school was over for the day, "he is not mean and contributes what he can to the legitimate fun of the Hilltops and does not waste his coin on foolish things. If he is poor he is not a miser and if he has to work for his schooling that is his business. If Dick Percival, the acknowledged head of the school in studies as well as in athletics, can associate with him and be proud of his company, the rest of us have nothing to say and I, for my part, certainly have not." "Neither has any decent fellow among the Hilltops," added Harry, enthusiastically, and the majority echoed his sentiment, the few that remained silent and indulged in black looks being unobserved amid the general acceptance of the new scholar. CHAPTER IV ANOTHER ATTEMPTED HAZING Herring and Merritt and others like them were not satisfied to accept Jack Sheldon on the same footing as had Percival and the better class of boys at the Academy. Herring had been used to doing about as he pleased with the new boys and any interference seemed like a curtailing of his rights as he looked at it, and he greatly resented it. "We'll see if that new berry picking chap can get the best of us, Ern," he said to Merritt when he was alone with a few of his cronies after Harry Dickson's declaration that Jack was good enough for any of them to associate with. "He won't do it, Pete," replied Merritt. "There's no use in doing anything in the dormitories," remarked Zenas Holt, one of the party. "No, that makes too much noise," muttered another of the party all being interested in the scheme which they knew Herring must be concocting to get the best of Jack. "No, everybody hazes new fellows in the dormitories," growled Herring. "He'll be watching for us and then he has made a lot of new friends and they will go to his help." "We want to catch him alone," suggested Merritt. "That's the talk," added Holt. "Just what I was thinking of," said Herring, "and if you fellows will stop talking so much, I'll tell you how we can fix it." These boys were just the sort to attack another with the odds against him and never had a notion that there was anything cowardly in that way of accomplishing their ends. As a matter of fact, Herring was afraid of Percival, who was his equal in size and strength as well as in athletic qualities and a good boxer to boot, and therefore did not wish to have the latter about when they set out to haze Jack. "There are other ways of doing the thing besides getting up a row in the dormitories," he said. "Sure!" added Merritt. "We don't want the profs. coming in on us to spoil the fun." "Nor to have to lick Percival and a lot of other fools that have taken up with the new chap," observed Holt. "H'm! you'd lick Dick Percival, I don't think!" sneered Merritt, who never lost a chance to jeer any one, his own associates included. "I'd like to see you do it." "Shut up!" snarled Herring. "How can we talk the thing over if you're always putting in your oar?" "You aren't wearing a lot of medals yourself for keeping your mouth shut, Pete," retorted Merritt. "Who's getting this thing up?" snarled the other. "Me or you? Did you start it?" "No, but you can't get along without me, all the same, so don't be so fresh and breezy." "If you fellows are going to squabble there'll be nothing done at all," put in Holt impatiently. "It ain't me that's squabbling, it's Ern Merritt," growled the leader of the bullies, angrily. "If he don't want to go into this thing he needn't, but there's no use in doing so much talking." "Who's doing the most of it?" laughed Merritt. "Shut up!" said the rest of the boys, who wanted to hear what Herring had to propose. "There are other places besides the dormitories to work in," said Herring. "There's the woods and the road and a lot of other places. He won't be with the other fellows all the time." "No, of course not." "It'll be easy enough to send him a note and get him away from the buildings and then we can do just what we like." "Give him a good scare and take the nonsense out of him." "And he won't know us, neither, for we'll have masks on and we mustn't say a word." "That'll be a hard thing for you," laughed Merritt, who could not resist the temptation to have another fling at Herring. The latter paid no attention to him, however, knowing that one word would only lead to another. "We'll watch him," he continued; "find out when he goes off by himself and then do the job up brown. If he don't go off alone, we'll fix it so he will, and that's easy." "What'll you do with him?" asked Holt. "Steal his clothes and make him walk home at night?" "Black him up with soot and send him back," suggested another, "That stuff is awful hard to get off." "I'll make a good job, all right," muttered Herring. "Just you leave it to me." Some of the better sort of boys were seen approaching at that moment, and Herring said in a low tone: "Come on, let's get out. Go in different directions. Those fellows might get a notion that we were fixing up something." The boys went off in different directions, and Harry, who was one of the other boys, said to Arthur: "If Pete Herring and those sneaks are not plotting against the new fellow, I'll miss my guess." "Well, it may not be against him," replied Arthur, "but it probably has to do with some of the new fellows or with the little ones. Herring and his crowd are always pestering them." "If they try to make any trouble for Jack, they will get all that's coming to them," laughed Billy Manners. "Yes, you found out that he could take care of himself, didn't you?" asked Arthur with a chuckle. "There were others," replied Billy with a grin. Herring and his accomplices found a chance to meet again later when there was no chance of being interrupted by any of Jack's friends, and the bully laid his plans before the rest. "That's all right," said Merritt. "Couldn't have fixed it up better myself," added Holt. "That'll do the trick," said another. Some time later, with still considerable time before supper, Jack happened to be passing the rear of the house where Bucephalus was at work on a wagon. "Dey was a tullyphome message fo' yo', sah," said the man. "Yo' was to call up two-fo'-six as soon as conwenient." "Where is the booth, Bucephalus?" asked Jack. "Raght in bahn, sah. Dere am a switch fo' mah conwenience. Yo'll fin' it cluss to de do', sah." "All right," and Jack went into the barn, where he saw a telephone receiver and transmitter on a little shelf near the door. He took down the receiver and called up the number which Bucephalus had given him, waiting a moment for an answer. "Hello, who is this?" he presently heard over the wire. "John Sheldon. I was told to call you up. Who is this and what do you want of me?" "This is Jones, down at the station. There is an express package for you here that has to be signed for. Better come after it." "Can't you send it?" asked Jack, who thought that the voice sounded rather too near to come from the station below. Furthermore, it seemed to him that it sounded suspiciously like that of Peter Herring, the leading bully of the Academy. He had not had much conversation with the fellow, but what he had had was sufficient to make him remember the voice, and he had a good memory for all voices. "No, I can't send it now. Haven't got any one to send. You can take a short cut through the woods as you leave the Academy and get here in a few minutes. It's shorter than by the road. Take the turn on the right after you get out of sight." "Is there any hurry?" "Yes, I gotter go to supper, but I'll wait for you. Hurry up!" and Jack heard the sound of the receiver being hung up on the other end. He hung up his receiver and went out, finding Bucephalus still at work on the wagon. "Did yo' catch him, sah?" asked the man. "Werry conwenient little instrament, dat tullyphome, ain't it? Werry myster'ous, too. Just think o' hearin' a man talkin' a mile or two away, an' yo' unnerstan' him as plain like he was right cluss up." "Yes, there is a bit of mystery about it, Buck," laughed Jack, who had ideas of his own which he did not care to tell to any one else at the moment. "There is a switch that those fellows have got on," he said to himself, "and I was not talking to the station any more than I was talking to the President of the United States. Well, there'll be a little fun in this, and I don't mind taking the risk." Jack had gotten the idea that Herring was on another branch of the Academy telephone, and that the story of the express package was a fiction, meant to mislead him. He knew enough of such characters as Herring's to satisfy himself that the bully would not rest at one attempt to make trouble, but would try again as soon as convenient. "If that was not Herring on the wire, I never heard him speak," he said to himself as he ran off toward the house and then to the dormitories. He was not upstairs more than a minute and then he appeared at the front of the Academy and set off down the road at a good pace. When he had gone far enough to be out of sight of the building, he took a cut through the woods as directed by the supposed Jones at the little station below. He walked with both hands in his side jacket pockets, and seemed absolutely carefree and happy, but he had his wits about him, nevertheless. He suspected an ambush and was ready for it. He had prepared himself for a hazing on his first night at Hilltop, and he now suspected that another was under way and was prepared for that as well. Jack Sheldon had been to school before and knew the ways of boys, being one himself, although not of the sort that think it funny to play foolish tricks on others. He knew many of these, however, and had remedies for nearly all of them, having put more than one hazing party to route by his thorough command of resources. Although he hurried in through the woods in an apparently careless fashion and seemed to pay no attention to anything, he noticed everything, heard everything, and was ready for instant action. He was well in the woods, which were quite thick as he went on, although there was a path through them, when his quick ear caught the sound of a sudden rustling in a clump of thick shrub oaks just in front of him, but he went on as if he had heard nothing, turning a little to one side as he reached the clump. In a moment three or four masked figures suddenly sprang out upon him from two sides of the clump. Then Jack took his hands out of his pockets. CHAPTER V THE HAZERS ARE HAZED What Jack had in one pocket of his coat was an ammonia gun used by wheelmen to keep off the attacks of troublesome dogs who attempt to bar their progress on the road often at the risk of giving them an upset. This, as most boys know, is shaped like a pistol and has a bulb at one end. A slight pressure upon this bulb causes a stream of ammonia, or hot water, or whatever else one chooses to squirt in the faces of the annoying dogs and to put them to flight. When Jack had gone up to the dormitories, after receiving the message which he had every reason to believe to be spurious, he had taken the little gun from his suitcase, where he had placed it, in anticipation of needing it in some such emergency as the present. As the masked figures came rushing toward him from two sides, he quickly took account of stock, as one might say, and decided which one of the maskers was Herring. Then he aimed his little gun at the fellow's face and gave the bulb a good squeeze. There was a howl and a gasp and the boy in the mask and the old clothes suddenly sat down with more force than elegance. Jack then turned his gun on one of the intruders from the other side of the clump. "Ouch, stop that!" yelled the fellow, dropping a stout stick he held in his hand and beating a hasty retreat, half stifled by the fumes of the ammonia. Jack then turned his attention to the other members of the party of hazers and discharged another gun at them, holding it in his left hand. This was worse than the first, for it contained assafoetida instead of ammonia. The stench was something dreadful, and two of the hazers got full doses of the stuff directly in their faces. Jack was on the windward side of it or he could not have endured the horrible smell. The victims simply fell on the ground and began to vomit in spite of themselves. "Oh! Oh! Oh! I'm poisoned!" wailed Holt, who was one of the fellows dosed. "Oh! get me some water. Oh, dear! I shall die, I know I shall!" "You need a good cleaning out," laughed Jack, who had no sympathy whatever for the sneak. "You are dirty enough inside and out to make it necessary. Turn yourself inside out. You need it." The other victim was retching and gasping and groaning by turns and all at once, but Jack only laughed. If one had been in pain and needed his help, no one could have been more sympathetic, but in this case the victim was simply getting his deserts, and the boy wasted no sympathy upon him. "Oh! I am poisoned, I know I am!" howled Holt. "Go send for a doctor. I know I am going to die!" "No danger of it, Holt," laughed Jack. "That's nothing but a cleaning out medicine that will be good for you. Take off that mask of yours and you will breathe better. If it had not been for that, you would have got a bigger dose, but it will do, I guess." Jack had easily recognized Holt, but the other hazer was unknown to him, as he did not yet know all the boys at the Academy. Holt retched, and coughed, and choked, and gasped, and was in a very uncomfortable state, but there was no danger of his dying and Jack knew it perfectly well. "I know you, Holt," he said. "I don't know the other fellow, but he will know me after this, I guess. I haven't got through with you fellows yet, but first I want to see how Herring and Merritt are coming on. He is a pickled Herring now, I warrant," and Jack laughed heartily at the recollection of the bully's sudden retreat. He hurried back the way he had come, and shortly found Herring bending over a spring and trying to wash the ammonia from his face and eyes. He had laid aside his mask and the stick he had carried, and was totally unprepared for Jack's coming. "What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the herring," laughed Jack as he came up behind the bully and suddenly sent him plunging headfirst into the spring. Herring sputtered and gasped, and Jack gave him another ducking, and without the slightest compunction. "I don't believe in taking a mean advantage of a fellow, as a rule," he laughed, "but that is the only thing that a fellow like you will understand. This is the two-four-six degree, Herring." Then he gave the bully another ducking and finally left him to look for Merritt, who also deserved something more than he had received. "I am going to give you a reward of Merritt, Ernest," he laughed, as he finally came upon the sneak sitting on a stone at the edge of the woods, looking very miserable. "Get out of here, I haven't done nothing," snarled Merritt, too weak to get up. "It wasn't me, it was Pete Herring." "What is that mask doing on the ground, Merritt?" asked Jack. "And you have your old clothes on also. How does that happen, if you were not in this plot the same as Herring?" "I was going blackberrying and wore my old clothes so's they wouldn't get hurt. You gotter wear something over your face, too, to keep it from getting scratched." "Well, here's something else," laughed Jack as he plunged his hand into a mudhole close by and brought it up fairly reeking with black ooze. Then he gave a generous plaster of the stuff to the bully's face, and chuckled as he went away: "They say that mud is a sure cure for a lot of things, Merritt, and maybe it will cure you of trying to haze a fellow unawares. Think it over. Thinking won't hurt you, anyhow. You don't do enough to injure you." Herring had taken himself off by the time Jack went back to the spring, evidently fearing that he would get another dose, which in his weak state he had no desire for and the boy did not find him. "Well, he has had enough to last him for a time, at any rate," he said with a grin, "and I am not resentful enough to further add to his troubles. I wonder how those others are doing?" He found Holt sitting on the ground looking very wretched and said, wiping his muddy hand on the fellow's face: "There's a plaster for you, Holt. You don't look very pretty, but it may do you good." "Ouch! it stinks!" yelled Holt. "So does your reputation," laughed Jack. "One will act as a counter irritant to the other. And like curses like, you know. That's the new school of medicine. Who got up this little scheme to waylay me?" "Pete Herring," muttered Holt. "I had nothing to do with it. I was just going to catch rabbits." "With a mask? H'm! you are ashamed to look a rabbit in the face, are you? Well, you are homely enough to give a young rabbit nervous prostration, so I can't blame you for that." "I didn't have nothing to do with it," said Holt, trying to wipe the mud from his face and making it worse. "How about the telephone?" asked Jack. "Where was Herring when I called him up?" "On the switch. How did you know it was him?" "There are some voices that are so disagreeable that you can actually smell them, Holt. Herring's is one. Then I did not get the station at all? I thought not." "No, you didn't, but if you knew it was Herring, what did you want to come for? That was foolish." "Oh, no, it was not. It was foolish for Herring to use the phone and try to disguise his voice. Why didn't he get some one I did not know at all? He was the foolish one. And then I thought I might give him a dose of his own medicine." "Huh! did you give him as bad as you gave me?" "Well, it was different," and Jack laughed. "I don't treat all alike, you see. Have a little more of the mud cure?" Then, without waiting for an answer, Jack plastered the bully's face and neck with the sticky mud and left him. "This is hazing the hazers," he said. "They may not like it, but, then, that is merely the point of view. There is no reason why I should like it any better than they do." The other bully was sneaking away when Jack found him and he let him go, having really had enough fun with the bullies to last him some time, and considering that he had punished them enough for one while. "Four to one was pretty good odds," he laughed, "but I had the advantage of knowing what they were about. That was stupid of Herring to get on the wire himself. Why didn't he get some one else? Fellows like these always make some stupid mistake which betrays them." Jack then returned to the house, where he found Bucephalus washing the wagon with warm water and soap. "Give me a chance to wash my hands, Bucephalus," he said. "Honest Injun, now, did you know anything about a plan to haze me? That telephone message was all a hoax." "Wha' yo' mean by dat, sah?" asked Bucephalus. "Wasn' dere no tullyphome message? I done heard it mahse'f, sah, an' Ah done give it to yo' same as Ah heard it m'se'f, sah." "Then you did not know of any trick to get the best of me?" "No, sah, 'deed Ah didn't, sah." The man spoke so earnestly that Jack was convinced that he was telling the truth and believed him. When he had finished washing his hands, he went to the doctor's study, where he found the principal himself, and asked permission to use the telephone. Finding the number of the station below, which was not the one given to him, he called up Mr. Jones and asked if there was any package for him. The agent said that there was not, and the boy then knew that the whole affair had been a hoax and that probably Bucephalus was as innocent of it as the station agent himself. "They must have come in here when the doctor was out, switched the barn line on to this one, and taken my call without Jones knowing anything about it," he said as he hung up the receiver and went out. "It was a pretty good plot, but one little blunder will spoil the best of plots." He said nothing to Percival nor any of his new friends about the matter, being satisfied to have gotten the best of his enemies without publishing it, and feeling that he would be safe from further annoyance for a time at least. It was said at the supper table that Holt and Haddon were sick from eating too much, and that Merritt had fallen into the brook and taken cold, and Jack did not take the trouble to correct the rumors. Herring was there, looking as well dressed and conceited as usual, and probably he had more ways of getting over his troubles than the others had, for he showed no effects of the hazing. He glared at Jack in a manner that promised future trouble, but the boy paid no attention to it, and did not mention the affair to any of his friends, although he knew that they would have liked well enough to hear of it. CHAPTER VI BILLY'S LITTLE JOKE Billy Manners still had an idea of playing some sort of a joke upon Jack Sheldon, albeit a good-natured one, and not the kind that Herring and boys of that ilk would be likely to perpetrate. Now Billy knew nothing of the hazing that Herring had intended to give Jack, for the latter had not mentioned it, and as a natural consequence Herring himself, in view of his failure, had said nothing about it to any one, not even his own cronies. The bullies of the Academy never had much to say to the better class of boys in any event, and in this particular case Billy would not be apt to hear of the affair of the unsuccessful hazing, Herring and the rest naturally keeping their own counsel. Consequently Billy knew nothing about it, but had an idea of his own and determined to work it entirely upon his own responsibility without taking any of the other boys into his confidence. He was a pretty good hand at working a joke, and knew that sometimes, particularly in carrying out a practical joke, too many cooks spoil the broth, although there is another aphorism which declares that in a multitude of councillors there is wisdom. However, Billy concluded to try the first old saw in working out his plans, and the reader can judge for himself by the sequel whether he took the wisest course or not. After supper, when the boys were all supposed to be in the general schoolroom, Billy got a chance to go up to the dormitories in order to prepare for the little joke upon Jack. The beds were all iron, with woven wire mattresses such as are used in hospitals and preferable as being much more sanitary than the ordinary wooden beds with slats of the same material. Billy's idea was to loosen the side supports in such a manner that it would not be obvious that anything had been done to them, but that the bed would collapse as soon as any weight was put upon it and let the occupant down upon the floor in the most summary fashion. What he did was to lift up the sides and then to fasten them to the head and foot pieces with very thin cord which was sufficient to hold them in place only as long as there was no weight put upon them. The instant that any one got upon the bed the side pieces would drop to the floor and the occupant would go down with them, much to his astonishment and the delight of the other boys. Having fixed up his little trap, Billy replaced the clothes in as neat a fashion as a chambermaid could have done, and there was apparently nothing the matter with Jack's bed. "That will be one on Master Jack for the ducking I got the other night," he said, and then he moved the washstand near enough to the bed so that in the event of the latter's collapsing it would go down as well. Satisfied with his work, he left the dormitory and returned to the big schoolroom, his absence having caused no comment apparently, and his presence and operations upstairs not having been noticed. "There will be a nice little surprise party for some one at bedtime," he said to himself, but did not let his satisfaction show on his face, so that for all that appeared no one knew of the little trick. He had had his own flashlight with him and had not had to turn up the lights in the dormitory, a proceeding that might have caused attention, and he was sure that no one had seen him at work, and indeed no one had. When the boys went up to bed, Jack, still occupying the same dormitory as at first, Billy was ready to see the result of his little joke, but said nothing to any of the boys about it. "Will you change beds with me to-night, Billy?" presently asked Jack, taking off his coat and hanging it on a hook. "Mine is a little too warm, but you don't mind that." "Now I wonder if he has got onto it?" thought Billy. "He could not have been up here since." "It will only be for to-night," Jack added. "What's the use of changing?" asked Billy. "I don't like too warm a bed myself." "Oh, this isn't too warm, just warm enough for you," laughed Jack. "He has got onto something," thought Billy, "and wants to see me go down. Not much, I won't." "Why can't you be obliging, Billy?" asked Arthur. "I'm sure I'd do a little thing like that if I was asked." "I wonder if they are both in it?" thought the young joker. "Oh, well, it doesn't matter," said Jack, taking off his waistcoat and hanging it up over his coat. "You can have my bed if you want it, Jack," said Arthur. "I don't see why Billy is so disobliging." "Well, I did not mean it for him," thought Billy, "but it will be his own fault if he makes the change." "Billy's is better," laughed Jack, "but still I don't mind changing with you if you don't object." "Not in the least," said Arthur. "You're an obliging fellow, Mr. William Manners." "Very bad manners, I should say," laughed Harry. "Oh, well, I am a bit particular, I suppose," said Billy, "but I get accustomed to a thing and don't like to change. It's the same with a seat at table or a desk in the schoolroom." Billy had been in a hurry to get ready for bed in case the boys tried to persuade him to change his mind, and now he threw back the covers and plumped himself in without further delay. In a moment there were several surprises. First, the bed went all to pieces and let the rather stout young fellow down upon the floor in the most unceremonious fashion. Then there was a loud report, as if a pistol had been set off, and a lot of smoke puffed up in Billy's face. Next the washstand tipped over and Billy received a ducking much worse than he had got on the night that Jack's water pitcher had been overturned upon him. "Hello! what's the matter with Billy?" asked several of the boys. "Oh, you prefer that sort of bed, do you?" asked Arthur. "Maybe that is why he did not want to let Jack have it," added Harry. "Enjoy yourself, Billy," said Jack with a smile, sitting on his own bed. Nothing happened, much to Billy's surprise and disappointment. "How is this?" the joker asked as he got up. "Did I fix the wrong bed, after all?" "No, that was all right, Billy, but I have been here since," laughed Jack, taking off his socks. "Huh! And you found it out?" "Quite so!" with another smile. "How did you do it? Sit on it?" "No, but you left the end of a string sticking out." "How do you know I did it?" asked Billy. "Because you are the only fellow that uses green cord in tying up parcels. I have noticed that, among other things." "Billy is a bit green himself when it comes to playing jokes on observant boys," remarked Harry. "But how did you happen to come up here ahead of time?" asked Billy, paying no attention to Harry's observation. "Accident, that's all. I wanted something." "But I did not see you leave the room," said Billy. "You did not see me at work?" "No, but I saw you come in. Even then I did not suspect anything. I was about to go up when you came in." "And then you fixed my bed?" with a grunt. "Certainly. What is good enough for me is equally good for you, isn't it, my boy?" "Yes, but, Jack, you offered to swap beds with him," chuckled Arthur. "To be sure. I knew he would not take me up." "And if he had?" "Well, my side of the joke would have been off, but I would not have sat on the bed." "Well, but what was the racket?" asked Billy. "Giant torpedo under the bed," said Jack. "That was an improvement on your invention." "Well, that's one on you!" said Harry with a broad grin. "And it will be one on all of us if we don't get into bed before the lights are turned off," added Arthur. "Yes, that's all right and very funny and I acknowledge that Jack has nicely got the best of me," said Billy somewhat dolefully, "but what am I going to do? I can't go to sleep in a wet bed." "I have an extra set of blankets and things," said Jack. "I saved them out for you when I fixed your little joke to work backward. Here you are and now hurry and get fixed." "H'm! I bet you never had a thought of Jack in that line," said a boy of the name of Sharpe. "Did you, now?" "Well, no, I didn't," said Billy, making his bed with the dry blankets and sheets. "That's one on me. Still, no one offered me any dry things the other night." "Nor me, either," said Jack. "I was to be put through the mill in fine shape, but the joke went on the wrong tack." "And several of us got on more tacks than one," rejoined Arthur. "I did, at any rate." "It just shows you that there is little use in trying to play tricks on Jack Sheldon," said Billy, "and I won't be such a chump again." "Some one else thinks the same way," said Jack quietly to Arthur. "What do you mean by that, Jack?" the other boy asked. "I'll tell you to-morrow if you don't hear of it in the meantime," Jack answered, and then the lights went down as a warning that they would presently go out entirely, and the boys all made haste to get to bed. The next day when the boys came down Arthur and Harry happened to come upon Herring and Merritt unexpectedly, the two bullies not seeing them, and heard Merritt say angrily: "Huh! that was a pretty hazing scheme you got up on Jack Sheldon, Pete Herring. I got the worst of it." "You didn't get it any worse than I did," snarled Herring, "but never mind, I'll get even with him yet." "What are you two ruffians talking about now?" asked Arthur, and the two bullies quickly went away. Later Arthur saw Jack, and said: "Did Herring and those other sneaks try to haze you, Jack?" "Yes," said Jack, smiling. "How did you hear of it?" "They were talking it over when Hal and I came upon them unexpectedly. I imagine from what was said that it did not work very well." "No, it did not and now that it has partly come out. I'll tell you about it, as I promised." CHAPTER VII A TOUCH OF EXCITEMENT One morning in the second week of school, Bucephalus, the coachman, assistant cook, head waiter, butler and general factotum of the Hilltop institution, quite astonished the boys by a bit of news he brought and gave them a touch of excitement they had never expected. Bucephalus waited on the table at breakfast and then went to the station at the foot of the hill and brought back the mail, delivering it some little time before the morning session began. This morning when the boys came to get their letters the general factotum said excitedly: "I done pring de letters, what dey was of dem dis mo'nin' but ef dey was any come las' night yo' won' get 'em 'cause de post-office was buglariously entahed some time in de night an' letters an' stamps an' money done took o't." "The post-office robbed?" cried the boys as Bucephalus began distributing the letters he had in his pouch. "Yas'r an' de station an' de spress office an' mo' dan dat de post-office on de river was visited, too, in de same buglarious fashion an' a big lot o' pussonal property misappropriated by de nocturnal malefactors. Dey done said dat dey was abo't to call on de bank but got skeered off." "So, they robbed the Riverton station and post-office as well, did they?" asked Harry. "Have they any notion as to who did it?" "Wall, Ah reckon ef dey did dey would have apprehended dem by dis, Master Harry. All dey know is dat de malcomfactors done come in a auto an' went away in a hurry." "Did the same fellows rob both places?" "Ah reckon dey did and done went to de bigges' place fust. Down at dis station de postmaster and station agent, bein' one an' de same, as you' am aware, was woke up by hearin' de noise an' come a runnin' to stop de robbery. Dey was an exchange of compliments in de way of pistol shots an' de robbers took deir leave an' as much else as dey could get away wif an' struck fo' de nex' town below." "Then the agent saw them go?" "Yas'r an' dey took de wrong road at fus an' was headin' fo' de little creek what runs into de river o't'n de ravine jus' back o' here. De agent tried to catch 'em an' done telephoned to de river station but de wiahs was cut. Den de robbers done turn de oder way an' got off, goin' like de wind an' all." The boys were naturally excited over this piece of news and during the day more was heard which greatly added to the touch of excitement they had already received. After school Dick Percival, who had a little runabout which the doctor allowed him to keep in the barn, came to Jack and said: "I am going down to the station to learn some more of this affair of last night. Will you come along? We won't be away more than an hour and I have already obtained permission to go." "Certainly. I want to hear more about it myself and would enjoy the ride very much." "All right then, I'll get it out and we'll go at once." Jack went to the barn with Dick and showed great interest in the little car, so much so in fact, that Dick said: "You seem to be interested. Do you know anything about cars?" "Oh, yes," returned Jack, quietly. "Would you like to run it down to the station?" "Yes," and both boys got in and Jack ran it out of the shed and toward the road. As they passed the school buildings they saw Peter Herring and some of his cronies standing together, Herring saying quite audibly: "There's Percival and his chauffeur. I guess that's what he was before he came here and we gentlemen have to associate with him. H'm! just an auto driver mixing in with gentlemen! It's a shame." Jack did not seem to have heard and gave all his attention to the car, managing it so well that Dick was astonished and said to himself: "He handles the thing better than I can do it myself. It's a wonder how many things that boy can do. He may have driven a car, but what of that? That's no disgrace." When they were out of sight of the buildings and going at a good speed down the hill Jack said quietly: "I used to drive a motor truck with fruit to the railroad station and steamboat landing. Most shippers use horses but my man had a big motor truck and I used to drive it. That's how I know about cars." "That's all right," laughed Dick. "You are a constant surprise to me. I am all the time finding out the things you can do. Don't mind that fellow Herring. Honestly, I feel safer with you at the wheel than if I were driving myself." "I have had to do some pretty awkward driving. You know the Hudson River hills? We have some hard ones up my way and I have driven a car down them without an accident." "There's where your cool head comes in. I wish I had it." They whizzed around one sharp turn and another, down steep grades and along level stretches at a rapid pace, going smoothly, however, and with never a jar or a jolt and reached the little station in an incredibly short time, Percival being delighted at the masterly manner in which his companion had handled the car. There was a knot of men and boys around the station and the agent was telling the story of the robbery of the night before for the fiftieth time. "Anything new, Jones?" asked Percival. "Not much. There's a lot of stamps missing and a package of registered mail what I hadn't opened. I can't tell what was in it. Maybe much and maybe little. The fellows went over the creek by the bridge and on, 'stead of coming back as folks said. Guess they knew where they was going. Smart fellows them." "Did you see them plain enough to know them again?" "Guess I did, one of 'em, anyhow. He had a big white mustache and black eyebrows and hair. Guess his mask must have dropped off." "How many were there in the car?" and then Dick saw that Jack seemed greatly agitated about something and stopped short. "Two, that's all. They got some money out of the drawer and dropped a package near the bridge. Guess they was in a hurry. Smart trick that, cutting the telephone wires. I couldn't get connection with no place, up or down. This morning, though, I heard that they broke into the office at Cedar Bush and got fifty dollars in stamps besides some money. Guess they was making a trip of it." "Did they make a good haul at Riverton?" "Guess they did and it was lucky they didn't get more. They got into the bank all right but was scared away before they got much." "Buck said they got nothing from the bank." "Well, they did but not all they might have. Folks don't want to say too much down there." "I'd like to show you the country around here, Jack," said Dick. "Jump in. There are all sorts of stories about this affair and we won't get the truth of it for some time. I'll show you the creek and the bridge and you may get an idea of the risks these fellows ran unless they knew the region well, which I imagine they did." They took the road for a quarter of a mile back from the station and then saw the banks of the creek ahead of them. An eighth of a mile farther on the road turned sharply and ran along the creek but at a short distance from it, making a sudden turn again at the end of two or three hundred yards and crossing where the banks were steep and high and the creek itself quite tumultuous. "This is the same creek that you reach from the ravine back of the Academy in the woods," said Percival. "The banks there are quite high and rough. There is a descent from here to the river and there the creek does not make much trouble. Here, however it is all the time roaring and tumbling. They tell a number of stories about it. During the American Revolution it had considerable fame I believe." "It makes stir enough now to call attention to itself at any rate," laughed Jack. "It certainly is a noisy little stream. Here is where the robbers crossed over? I can see auto tracks close to the rail. They did go over and back, Dick, although the agent says they did not." "The stories are greatly confused and you won't find out what really happened for some time, I don't think. That man with the white mustache and black hair ought to be readily recognized. If he is a professional some ought to know him." "Yes, probably they will," and Dick once more noticed that his companion seemed agitated. He asked Jack to turn and go back as he did not feel quite equal to the task, the road being a bad one so Jack took the wheel and got them back to the station with little trouble. Stopping here a few minutes and listening to the talk but learning nothing new, they went through the little village, made a few trifling purchases and then returned to the Academy, Jack managing the car and quite exciting Dick's admiration by the cool manner in which he took the trying hills, sharp turns and steep ascents. "I'd like to have you with me whenever I go to the station, Jack," Dick said. "I fancied I could run a car anywhere but you can beat me all to bits. Herring can say what he likes but a fellow that can run a car as steadily and coolly as you can is good enough to associate with the president himself." "I am glad you like it," said Jack, smiling, "but long use has made me well accustomed to our Hudson valley hills and I really do not mind them nor think them so bad as a stranger would." The story of the robbery was added to the next day and many conflicting accounts were related so that one could not readily find out what was true and what was not. The man that Jones had seen was identified as a former prisoner in one of the State institutions but whether he had escaped or had served his term was very much in doubt. On the second afternoon succeeding Jack's visit to the station he was taking a stroll through the woods in the rear of the Academy, expecting Percival to join him, the two often taking walks together. He suddenly observed that he was quite near to the bank of the ravine and was about to turn when all at once a form flew out of the bushes close at hand, rushed violently against him and sent him in an instant off his feet and down the steep incline. CHAPTER VIII WHAT JACK FOUND IN THE RAVINE Jack Sheldon uttered a startled cry as he found himself darting through space and then he struck on his back and went sliding down the bank toward the creek below unable to stop himself. Many thoughts passed rapidly through his mind as he went on down the bank, narrowly missing great rocks, stumps of fallen trees and clumps of thorn bushes, feeling no pain but wondering where he would land. What occurred to him with the most startling distinctness, however, was the fact that he had not lost his footing through his own carelessness but that some one had pushed him from the bank. Speculation as to who this person might be seemed absolutely useless for he had not seen him and had not known of his presence until the very instant before he had fallen. What might eventually happen to him did not occupy his thoughts so much as the identity of this person and it seemed as if he must have turned this thought over in his mind a thousand times during his descent of the bank. His progress was so rapid that he could tell nothing of the objects he passed nor how long he was in descending, the only thing that was definite being the fact that the creek lay below and he might or might not be thrown into it. At last when it seemed as if he must have slid a thousand feet or more, although it was much less than that distance, he was suddenly brought up sharply by his feet striking a great mass of moss, decayed wood and rich loam at the foot of a short stump almost on the brink of the roaring creek tumbling over the rocks in its bed. He was thrown half across this stump by the violence of the contact but quickly realized that he was not hurt although nearly out of breath and with a rapidly beating heart. His coat was about his neck, he had no hat, his shoes were badly scraped and his trousers had many holes in them but he was alive and evidently not seriously bruised or scratched by his rapid slide over the rough ground and coarse grass. But for his having been stopped by the stump he would have gone into the water which at this point was right up to the bank. Standing up and arranging his clothing as much as was possible at the moment, he took a deep breath or two and looked about him. At a short distance there was a rude path along the water's edge wide enough for him to make his way, here and there obstructed by stones or bushes but wide enough for him to walk on. There was clearly no use in trying to reach the top of the ravine by climbing and he might by following the path come to the bridge over which he and Dick had crossed two days before. He had no idea how far it was to the station for he could see nothing but the woods and the ravine and the brook and he set off, therefore, with no idea how far he would have to go or what obstacles might be in his way. Walking on along the tumbling brook, now having to descend at a considerable angle where the path was just wide enough for his feet, now having to make his way through tangled bushes, now scrambling over rough stones and occasionally being turned aside by great thickets of briar but still keeping the water in sight he at length came to a point whence he could see the bridge ahead of him. He judged that he must have gone nearly half a mile although the difficulties of the way made it seem like five. The bridge was still some little distance away and the path was no less easy for travel than at first although it was wider and evidently more traversed as if used now and then by fishermen or picknickers. Coming near the bridge he was looking for a good place to leave the path and reach the road when he saw something half in the water and half on the ground that at once arrested his attention. It seemed to be a rubber bag and was evidently heavy by its looks, the part on the ground being deep in the sand as if it had been thrown from the bridge. At once it dawned upon him that here was an important discovery. "I wonder if that is not some of the plunder stolen from the bank or from the station?" he thought to himself. Some had advanced the theory that the robbers had not carried off all that they had stolen, some had said that the men had gone across the creek and then back and it at once occurred to Jack that they had not gone to the bridge for nothing and that here was something that they had gotten rid of at the time on account of the risk of being discovered with it and for which they meant to return at some convenient time. Making his way down the bank, which at this point was quite steep, the boy rested on one knee, took hold of a stout sapling and tried to lift the bag half out of water. It was quite heavy, as he had supposed and considerable of a tug was required to draw it out of the water and close to him. This he accomplished, however, and then, using the sapling to aid him, he drew the bag farther up on the bank and then to the top where he put it down and started to open it. There was a stout cord around the neck of the bag but this he loosened with some little trouble on account of its having been swollen and made tighter by the water. Opening the bag he caught sight of a polished tin despatch or cash box, a bundle of letters, a package of bills and a thick envelope which probably contained postage stamps by its appearance. Reaching in and taking out the cash box, the first thing that attracted his attention were the letters on the cover. "Hello! Riverton National Bank!" he exclaimed. "Then they did get something from the bank after all. What is this? Bunch of registered mail for the little post-office down here. Well, it was lucky I was thrown down the bank after all." Putting back the contents of the bag and securing it with the cord, Jack now made his way toward the end of the bridge, looking up and down and listening attentively. "If I am seen with this in my possession some one will be sure to say that I stole it and yet I must get it either to the station or up to the Academy. It will be a considerable tug to get it up the hill and perhaps I had better hide it till I can come after it with a car or a wagon. That's the best thing to do." He was looking for a place among the bushes or under the bridge to hide the bag when he heard the sound of a car coming toward him and got behind a tree so as not to be observed. Then, peering out, he saw the car and recognized it as the little runabout belonging to Dick and saw young Percival himself at the wheel. "Hello, Dick, come here, I want to see you," he called, stepping out and beginning to climb the bank. "Hello! That's you, is it? And all right, of course? I was very much afraid that I would have----" "To do what?" for Percival suddenly stopped. "To carry your remains back to the Academy. They told me you had fallen down the bank and I scarcely expected to see you alive again. As quick as I could I got out the car and came down here to look for you." "They told you that I had fallen down the bank?" asked Jack, in the greatest excitement. "Yes, and you look it all right." "Who told you that, Dick?" "Pete Herring and Ernest Merritt. They said they had seen you fall and had tried to warn you but were too late." "Where did you see them?" "In the woods. I was going there to meet you as I had promised." "How long before had it happened, did they tell you? Did you meet them in the woods?" "Yes, and very soon after you fell, probably. I heard a scream and hurried on. Then I met them and they told me what had happened." "Yes, but not how it happened. Dick, I was thrown down the bank. It was not an accident at all, it was a deliberate----" "Do you know which of the two did it?" gasped Dick. "No, but I am satisfied that one of them did it. However, never mind that now. Come here. I want to show you something." Dick got out of his car and followed Jack. The boy led his friend to where he had deposited the bag, uncovered it by throwing off the leaves he had thrown over it and said: "That's what I found down here, a few paces away. What do you suppose is in it?" "I have not the least idea. What is?" "A cash box from the Riverton bank, a packet of registered letters for our office, some stamps, money and other things." "And you found it here?" "Yes, half on the bank and half in the water." "How did it get there?" "Thrown from the bridge by the robbers. They did not want to be found with it on them I suppose. Probably they meant to return for it at some convenient time." "You have examined the contents?" "Not all of them." "What shall we do with it, Jack?" "Take it up to the doctor. Later we can take it to the bank. I don't want to go there now, looking as I do." "Well, you don't look just the thing to call on a bank president," laughed Dick, "but I am glad you are alive. Are you hurt any? No bones broken, no internal injuries, nothing the matter with you?" "I don't think there is, Dick. I do feel a bit sore and bruised but I don't think there is anything serious the matter. A good hot bath will fix me up all right, I think." "Come on then and get that bag up to the Academy. Here, don't you lift it. I can do it better. Can you run the car up, do you think?" "Yes. Did you raise an alarm about my having fallen down the bank?" "No. Herring said he would speak to the doctor. I came right away." "All right. Let them think for the present that I did fall down." "Very good, but as soon as I am certain which one of those fellows it was that pushed you down I will make it warm for him." "I don't believe you ever will know, Dick." CHAPTER IX ANOTHER OF JACK'S ACCOMPLISHMENTS The two boys went up the hill to the Academy with the bag which one of them had found in the creek and had an interview with Dr. Wise. The doctor looked his name in some respects and in others he did not. He was a tall, spare man, dressing habitually in solemn black and a huge white choker, his face being clean shaven and showing the firmness of his chin and his square, well-set jaws. He was very bald, however, and the big round spectacles which he always wore gave an owlish aspect to his face, the glasses being set in a heavy black frame which made his eyes look even deeper than they naturally were. However, the doctor was of a most kindly nature and all the boys under his charge, with a few notable exceptions, were greatly attached to him and treated him with admiration as well as respect. He listened attentively to Jack's story of falling down the ravine and finding the rubber bag and then examined the latter, saying: "H'm, ha! yes, this is a most important discovery. I am not privileged to examine it closely, that will be the duty of the agent at the station and the officers of the bank, but I am very glad that the bag has been recovered. This packet doubtless contains registered letters for me. I was expecting them and their loss would have caused us all some trouble. One thing, however. Has no one told you of the danger of wandering through our woods, especially at night?" Dick Percival was about to say something which Jack did not want him to say at the moment and he quickly interposed: "Yes, sir, they have, and I will admit that I was careless. However, I will take better precautions in future." "Do so. I should be very sorry if anything happened to you and I do not like to restrict the enjoyment of the young gentlemen under my care. They enjoy walking through the woods but all of them know the danger and I need not restrict them as long as they know where to go." "Then these things had better be taken to the station and to the bank at Riverton?" asked Jack. "Yes. To-morrow you and Percival may attend to it. Meanwhile, I will wire the bank officers that some of their property has been found. There will doubtless be a reward given for its recovery and I am very glad that this is so, for your sake." "My finding it was quite accidental, however, Doctor." "Even so, the reward has been offered and belongs to you. It is immaterial how the property was found as long as it was found. You must have had a thrilling adventure but I am glad that only your wearing apparel and not you suffered injury." The bag was left with the doctor and the boys left him, Jack to get whole garments out of his meagre store and Dick to house his car. Outside they came upon Herring, who turned pale when he saw Jack and muttered, half under his breath: "Then you were not killed? I was afraid that----" "No, he was not," said Dick, "little thanks, however, to----" but Jack gave him a sudden look and he stopped short. Herring hurried away to join some of his companions at a little distance and Dick said: "I was too much in a hurry, I see, and now it will be harder to discover the truth. Herring will be on his guard." "And we don't know that he had anything to do with it." "It lies between him and Merritt, I am certain, but I will keep still after this until I am certain." Those of the boys who had heard of the accident to Jack were quick to assure him of their satisfaction that he was not seriously hurt and there the matter rested. The next day Dick and Jack went in the runabout to the bank where they delivered the cash box and other things which evidently belonged to it, leaving the package of registered letters and the postage stamps at the station at the foot of the hill. "I am authorized by the bank to pay you a reward of one hundred dollars for the recovery of this property," said the president, after he had thoroughly examined the contents of the bag. "Shall I pay it to you or put it to your credit in the bank? I will have a book made out if you prefer the latter." "I think that will be satisfactory," the boy replied. "Then if I desire to draw against it or add to it I can do so." "Very good, my dear sir. You show the proper spirit. Many young men would wish to spend the amount at once." "I believe I have learned the value of money, sir," said Jack, quietly, while Dick laughed and said. "H'm! I am afraid I would have done just what the president hints at. Perhaps I have not learned the value of money from having so much of it." The money was left to the boy's credit and he was supplied with a bank book and blank checks, feeling quite proud at having so much money as it would give him an opportunity to help his mother as well as to pay his bills at the Academy. "You did not expect to get this, did you, Jack?" asked Dick. "No, but I am glad to get it just the same. It means a good deal to me, Dick, although I suppose you regard it as a mere trifle." "Well, not so much after all," laughed Dick, "but, come on. I want to stop at the office of the Riverton News. I furnish them with school items now and then and this is the day before publication. You might tell the editor of your experience yesterday. I have no doubt that he will regard it as a bit of valuable news. He does not get much." "I would like to see him at any rate," Jack returned. "I always did like to go into a newspaper office." The newspaper office was down the street a short distance and on the opposite side from the bank and in a decidedly less pretentious building, being in a little two-story wooden affair which looked fully a hundred years old and as if it might fall down at any moment. They found the editor in his office, sitting at his typewriter in his shirt sleeves and busy preparing an article for the paper, this being the eve of publication day. He was a fat little man; the top of his head being very bald and shiny with a fringe of black hair all around it and two big tufts at his ears, his eyebrows being thick and shaggy and standing straight out from twin caverns. He held his shoulders high and put his head forward and down, pecking savagely at the keys of the typewriter with the first fingers of both hands very much as a hen pecks at the worms or grain of corn in a dunghill and making the machine rattle at every stroke. "Busy, Mr. Brooke?" asked Dick. "Want some items?" "Yes, of course," said the other, never stopping at his savage attack on the typewriter. "I am doing something about the robbery. Nothing new, I suppose?" "Why, yes, I think there is," laughed Dick. "Have you heard----" "What?" asked the editor sharply, looking up at the two boys. "I've heard lots of things and it's hard to tell just what's true and what isn't. What have you got, Percival?" "Why don't you use all your fingers on your machine?" asked Jack, before Dick could answer. "What's that?" snapped the editor quickly, fixing his eyes on the questioner. "Why don't I use all my fingers? Because it's quicker to use two, that's why." "Oh, no it is not," with a quiet smile. "Let me show you. What is this? Something about the robbery? Let me add a few lines. It is news." Jack spoke with a quiet air that evidently had its effect on the nervous little man pecking away at the machine with two fat fingers and he moved his chair to one side a little so as to make room, but apparently unwilling to believe that he could be taught anything. Jack shifted the paper a line or two and then, standing over the machine, set to work, operating rapidly and writing as he thought. He not only used all his fingers but did the spacing with his thumbs and wrote so rapidly that Dick thought he was copying and not writing off-hand. What he wrote was a brief account of the finding of the rubber bag containing the missing cash box near the bridge at the upper station, not mentioning himself by name, however, nor even saying that the property had been found by one of the Hilltop boys. When he had finished the editor looked at the paper and muttered: "H'm! not an error! Well, you are certainly an expert operator and have taught me something but I could never write like that. Force of habit, I suppose." "Where did you ever learn to use a typewriter, Jack?" asked Dick in admiration. "Why, you show me some new accomplishment every day." "Oh, I have used one for some time. I have done work for the lawyers in our town. I have made a good deal of money that way." "He gets along faster with all his fingers than you do, playing a sort of crazy jig with your two first fingers, Mr. Brooke," laughed Dick, uproariously. "I have seen other fellows play the machine like that and thought it was the only way, but now I see that it is not." "You have put it very concisely," said the editor. "By the way, who was the person who found the money?" "That was Jack himself," said Dick. "I was there just afterward and took the thing up to the Academy in my car. Jack is a modest fellow and you could not get him to say anything about himself." "Very well put," said the editor. "What do you think about the political situation? I want a leader on it but hardly feel equal to it." "Write him an editorial, Jack," laughed Dick. "How much do you pay for good articles, Mr. Brooke?" "H'm! the News is not equipped for paying very much for anything," replied the other, pecking at the machine, "but if I could get a really good article on the situation at present or anything, the farming outlook, for instance, I would be willing to pay something for it." "I can tell you what I think," said Jack, quietly, "and furnish you with articles on different subjects. I would like to earn all the money I can as I am paying for my education out of my own pocket." "H'm! very commendable spirit," snapped the other. "Is that your case, Mr. Percival?" "No, I cannot say that it is. However, I am anxious to see how Jack makes out as a writer of editorials. Let Mr. John Sheldon have your desk for a few minutes, Mr. Brooke." "It won't be long," said Jack, blushing. "Only a few sentences but it is just what I think." He sat at the typewriter and wrote rapidly for a few minutes, during which time both Percival and Mr. Brooke remained perfectly quiet. When he had finished, Jack took the paper from the machine and handed it to the editor, saying: "There, that is my opinion of the situation. You may not agree with it but that is how I think." The editor read over the article carefully and then said with more spirit than he had yet betrayed: "It is the thing in a nutshell. It is tersely put and carries conviction with every sentence. If it had been any longer or any shorter it would have failed of its purpose. I could not express myself any better if I wrote a column. It will go in just as it is and whenever I want an editorial written I shall call upon you." "May I read it?" asked Percival. The editor passed the sheet over to the boy who read it most carefully and then said: "Great, my boy! We have long wanted a good editor for our Academy paper and the position is yours. If I say so every boy in Hilltop will agree with me, so it is settled." CHAPTER X AN INTERVIEW IN THE WOODS Dick Percival was as good as his word and lost no time in telling the Hilltop boys that he had found an ideal editor for the monthly magazine conducted in the interests of the Academy and contributed to by the brightest minds among them. The majority agreed that Jack would make a better editor but there were some who opposed this choice, not openly but in a sneering, underhand way that was harder to combat than if they had put on an attitude of bold defiance. "You don't want a mere clerk for an editor," said Peter Herring to a number of his cronies. "If we did we could hire a six-dollar-a-week typewriter girl to do the work. Any one can work a machine with a little practice but it takes brains to run a high-class magazine like ours." "How much do you contribute to it, Pete?" asked Merritt, with a half laugh. "Well, I contribute to the expense of the publication and I am not going to have my money wasted," retorted the other angrily. "So do all the boys contribute. You don't have to pat yourself on the back for that." "Well, do you want this upstart to be editor?" snarled Herring, annoyed at these interruptions and yet not wishing to pick a quarrel with one who was useful to him at times. "No, of course I don't but you don't need to make a fool of yourself for all that. You are no better than the rest of us." "I don't say I am and I don't make a fool of myself. What is the matter with you anyhow?" "Never mind bickering, you two," said one of the group. "What we want to get at is to keep Sheldon out of the paper, isn't it?" "Of course!" said all the rest. "Then get to work and do it." "Leave it to me," said Herring in a mysterious tone. "I'll fix it all right, never fear." The preparation of the next number of the _Hilltop Gazette_ was begun under the direction of Jack Sheldon, however, Dick, Harry and a few more assisting him in the selection and arrangement of articles and the opposition of Herring and his satellites seemed to have ceased. Jack had made arrangements with the editor of the _News_ to furnish him material for the weekly paper and to give him news as well if there happened to be any and he entered on his duties as contributor under a regular if not large salary. Meanwhile, Herring took every opportunity to speak disparagingly of Jack, to sneer at everything he said or at every word of praise that was given him and to snub him whenever they met. Jack cared nothing for this latter treatment and, indeed, seemed not to notice it and as far as snubbing went he never had anything to say to the bully and always passed him by without notice. It was about ten days after the finding of the money in the creek and Jack was strolling in the woods half way down from the Academy, absorbed in thought and paying little attention to where he went or to the objects about him when he heard a sudden sharp hiss and then: "Well? Do you like it here?" He looked up suddenly and saw a man in a rough dark grey suit and wearing a thick black beard, standing close to a tree which had a great hollow on one side. "You!" he exclaimed, stepping back a pace and straightening himself as if wishing to keep away from something defiling. "Yes, me. So you are going to a high-class school, are you?" "Why should I not if I pay for it?" asked Jack, coolly. "And I need the money. Have you any with you?" "Yes--and I mean to keep it with me," with a slight interruption. "I can claim all you have. It is mine by right," said the other in a dogged tone. "Come closer. I want to talk to you. Perhaps I can make a business proposition." There was a rustle among the leaves at a little distance and Jack looked around sharply but saw nothing, the stranger having evidently not taken note of anything. "Come here," he said, resting his hand in the hollow of the tree. "Do you see this hole? You could put something in there and I would get it. I have used it for a post-office before. It has been very handy. So, you found the money in the creek, did you? I was coming after it in a day or so. What have you done with it?" "Restored it to the bank, whose property it was," came the quiet answer. "You do not suppose I would keep it?" "I worked for that money and only for my pals getting frightened I would have had more. We left the biggest part behind." "It is not safe for you here since the police have your description and know your reputation," said Jack, quietly. "I would advise you to go away at once." "Who would recognize me?" asked the other with a laugh, whisking off his beard and restoring it again in a flash but revealing for a brief moment a large white mustache. "Besides, no one would suppose that I would stay in this neighborhood." "Why do you?" "To get what I left behind," with a laugh. "They say lightning does not strike twice in the same place but I do and with profit. You know the bank, don't you? Give me a little idea of the location of things. I am a little hazy on some points. Of course I could fix that but time is an item with me. Where is the----" "I shall tell you nothing!" said Jack, firmly, "and it is useless to prolong this interview." "Ain't I your father, Mr. John Shelden, alias----" "No, you are not!" said Jack, fiercely. He was retreating when the man said with a laugh and a sneer: "You won't get people to believe that. Help me and I will keep quiet; refuse and I will see that your term here is a very short one. Ha! I still use the old word. Familiar, of course." "I care nothing for your threats," said Jack, hurrying away and looking around sharply, the sound he had before heard coming again to his ears. "The fellow has some confederate hidden in the woods," he thought, and made his way as rapidly as possible to the road and then went on up the hill toward the Academy. The strange man disappeared in the woods but Jack did not look back to see where he went but kept straight on to the Academy. Reaching the building he went to the telephone which the boys were allowed to use on occasion and called up Mr. Brooke. "Hello! Mr. Brooke? I may have news for you about something. I will communicate with you as previously arranged in case there is anything to tell you. Good-bye." No one hearing this message could guess what it meant and Jack was purposely cautious and guarded, knowing that some of the operators in the exchange had told things which they had heard over the wires. Having sent his message to the editor, he hung up the receiver and went to find Percival or some other of the boys. A few minutes after the strange man with whom Jack had had his strange interview had disappeared in the woods, Peter Herring crept cautiously out of the bushes and whistled softly to some one. In a moment he was joined by Merritt and the two hurried toward the road and took their way down hill. "You heard the whole business?" asked Herring. "Yes. That's a nice mix-up." "I guess it is. Now we've got a hold on Sheldon. The son of a bank robber and he said his father was dead." "I'll bet he was in the robbery himself," muttered Merritt. "Anyhow, we can make it look so," snarled the other with an evil look. CHAPTER XI A BIT OF SIGNAL WORK Jack Sheldon said nothing to Dick Percival or any of his friends in the Academy of the singular interview he had had in the woods with the strange man, having kept his own counsel thus far and resolving to keep it still unless forced to take some one else into his confidence. No one would have guessed, seeing him among the boys, light-hearted and gay, apparently, that he had anything on his mind and he took good care that no one should guess it. There was a time during the evening that one might absent himself from the general assembly if he chose although none of the boys was supposed to leave the grounds. There was a direct rule against this except in a case of necessity, but Jack considered that it was necessary for him to leave the place at that time and he accordingly made his way rapidly down the hill, taking care that no one should see him leave. "I cannot explain," he muttered to himself as he hurried on in the darkness, "and yet I must see if those scoundrels are at work." He met no one, saw no one and at length reached the old hollow tree where he had met the strange man that afternoon. He had his pocket flashlight with him and now, as he reached the tree he turned a brilliant glare into the hollow, taking care that it went nowhere else. There was something at the bottom of the opening and he reached in his hand and brought it out. It was a folded bit of coarse paper tied around a stone and, unfolding it, he read as follows: "Dear Bill: Coast is clear. Think we can do the crack to-night." "Very good!" he said to himself as he put the paper in his pocket, shut off the light and hurried away. "I don't know if this was overlooked or if it has just been put here but I am glad I have secured it." He mixed in with the boys and left them to go to his room in one of the cottages where he was now quartered only a short time before the hour of retiring. When ten o'clock struck he waited about ten minutes and, looking out of the window to assure himself that all was dark, he opened the sash and flashed his light in the direction of the river, keeping the light on until an answering flash in the distance told him that his own signal had been seen. Then he sent a number of long and short flashes and waited a few moments until he saw a steady flash of a few seconds in the direction where he had seen the first. "All right, he is ready," he said to himself and then sent a number of flashes as before, holding the light for a longer or shorter period as required to indicate dots and dashes in the Morse code of telegraphy. As a matter of fact, he was sending a message in this manner to the editor of the _News_ as already arranged between them. His first long flash was to determine if the editor was at his post and, having ascertained that he was, he announced that he was about to send an important message and then when the answer came that they were ready for him he went on. Leaving out all unnecessary and obvious words, his message to the _News_ man was as follows: "Inform bank officials attempt robbery be made to-night. Thought they would keep away from bank account danger." To telephone at that time of night would be inconvenient as well as not feasible and Jack had therefore hit upon this method of sending word to Mr. Brooke as being the safest and surest. He had signaled before with great success, his light being a powerful one and capable of carrying to the river without the least difficulty, providing the night was clear. "That is all right," he muttered as he shut off his light, closed the window and turned into bed, having no need of any light and not caring to have any show from the cottage at that hour. Unknown to him, however, there were those who saw his signals, or a part of them, in addition to the man for whom they were intended. Peter Herring and Ernest Merritt, returning from a clandestine visit to the village after hours were coming along the road, keeping as much in the shadows as possible, not caring to be seen, when Herring whispered: "See that light?" "Yes, what is it? Keeps winking and blinking like a----" "Sh! some one is signaling. H'm! regular dots and dashes, that's what they are. H'm! do you know the code?" "Yes, a little bit. We used to practise it----" "Watch 'em. H'm! I've got some of it. It's a regular message to----" The two prowlers advanced as close as they dared and watched the signals, muttering to each other as one word and another was flashed out. "What do you make it, Pete? 'Keep away from something on account of danger.' Is that it?" "Yes, 'keep away from bank,' that's it." "Keep away from the bank? What bank? The river or the ravine?" "No, stupid! The bank in the town. The one that was robbed. Are you so stupid you can't put two and two together? That's Sheldon's room where the lights came from. He was warning his father to keep away from the bank on account of danger. Don't you see? He is not the fine honorable fellow he makes himself out to be." "H'm! that gives us another hold on him. If he puts on any airs with us now we'll spit upon him." "Sh! not so loud. We've got to get in without being found out. It is not late but it's after hours and a half minute or a half hour over time is all the same with the doctor." "It's a good thing we were late, Pete. Otherwise, we wouldn't have seen this high-toned burglar's son signaling to----" "No, but keep still," whispered Herring and the two hurried on in the darkness till they reached the rear of the building where an associate was waiting to let them in at their signal. Jack went to sleep feeling assured that if the bank robbers made another attempt to rob the Riverton institution they would meet with a warm reception and satisfied that he had done his duty. In the morning when Bucephalus came with the mail he quite astonished the boys by announcing: "Dem robbers was at deir wo'k again las' night, down at de bank on de river an' one of dem was shooted bad an' am in jail, so dey tell me down at de station." "Tried to rob the bank again, did they?" cried one or two of the boys excitedly. "Yas'r, but the bank kind o' suspected dat dey was coming and was prepared for them. The robbers did not suspicion that anything was wrong for the bank was playing 'possum and the robbers was caught at their surreptitious employment and----" "Which one got away and how many were there, Buck?" asked Herring, who seemed puzzled over something. "Ah donno sah, Ah don' keep acco'nt of such obnoxious individuals as bank robbers, sah," replied Bucephalus, with great dignity. "Was the fellow with the white mustache caught?" "Ah donno, sah, and----" "What is it to you which one was caught and how do you happen to know so much about them, Herring?" asked Harry. "It is not much to me, of course," returned Herring, "although I fancy it is a lot to somebody not a hundred miles away." "What do you mean by that?" demanded Harry. "You are hinting at something. Out with it if you are man enough." Herring flushed scarlet and then, feeling that he was defied, he said doggedly: "You'd better ask Sheldon how he is interested in the matter." "What has he got to do with it?" asked Percival, hotly, having just arrived on the scene. "What has he got to do with it?" sneered Herring. "Oh, nothing very much. He signaled to the robbers to keep away from the bank last night, that's all. He must have some interest in them to do that." Jack said nothing, although he was clearly agitated and Percival turned to him and asked kindly: "It is not so, is it, Jack? Say that it is not so." "No, it is not so. I signaled to Brooke and told him to warn the bank officials that there was to be another attempt to rob it." "You knew this, Jack?" asked Dick. "Yes, I knew it," quietly. "Of course he knew it," said Herring, with a disagreeable laugh. "Why wouldn't he know it when he had a meeting with the chief robber yesterday afternoon and told him that he would keep him and his pal posted as to a good time to rob the bank?" "Peter Herring," said Jack, turning white but retaining full command of himself, "you are a miserable liar!" "Oh, am I?" and Herring began to bluster, feeling sure of his ground. "You won't deny that you had a meeting with a disguised man yesterday afternoon in the woods near the foot of the Academy hill, will you? Will you deny that you telegraphed with your pocket flashlight, 'Keep away from the bank on account of danger?' You did not do that?" "That was only a part of my message. It was sent to Mr. Brooke, the editor of the _News_ at Riverton and not to the robbers." "Why should he send warning to the robbers, you toad?" demanded Dick, angrily. "Stop, Dick, never mind," said Jack, putting a hand on his friend's arm. "The fellow is lying and he knows it." "Oh, I do, hey?" and Herring turned purple with rage. "Maybe I am lying when I tell the boys that you had a secret interview with your father yesterday afternoon and that he is the chief robber, the one with the white mustache, the one that Jones shot at. Maybe you will deny that you have a father?" "I do deny it," said Jack, quietly. "My father is dead, as I told you once before." "You are a liar!" roared Herring, "and I'll bet that you are just as bad as this----" That was as far as he got for in an instant Jack had knocked him down. CHAPTER XII THE TROUBLES OF AN EDITOR There was great excitement among the boys in an instant and while the greater part of them sympathized with Jack, there were some who took sides with Herring and one of these now ejaculated: "Ha! if he wants to fight let him go at it fair. Get a ring and----" "Young ge'men," said the negro coachman, pushing forward and throwing aside the boys who were rushing at Jack, "Ah beg of yo' to remembah dat dis am against de rules and dat you will be severely chastised if not punished for dis." Herring picked himself up, brushed his clothes hastily and cried in angry tones: "You will have to give me satisfaction for that, Sheldon. You called me a liar and you struck me without provocation. I don't stand for anything like that I can tell you and----" "What is this?" a newcomer said and the boys suddenly found the drill master among them. "A fight? I shall have something to say about that. Disperse at once and proceed to the drill ground." "Sheldon called me a liar and struck me!" blustered Herring. "I am not going to have----" "We will hear this case later," said Colonel Bull, severely. "Do as I command or I shall put you all under arrest." Some of the boys smiled at the idea of putting the whole school under arrest but they all moved away and were shortly in regular formation going through their customary morning exercises. After drill Percival went to Jack and said: "There is some mystery here, old chap. Won't you tell me what it is?" "Not now, Dick," answered Jack. "Some other time, perhaps, but not now. I have no father as I told you once before." "But you know this man that claimed----" "Yes, but I would rather not say any more about it." "All right, Jack, I won't urge you," and the two went together into the main building and took their seats in the great schoolroom. The boys had been at their tasks for some little time when the doctor sent in for Jack to come and see him in his study. Jack left the room and was gone some little time, returning at length with the doctor who said: "There is no blame attaching to this young gentleman for what has lately happened in the neighboring town and his rank is as high now as it ever was. I wish you to treat him with the same respect that you have always shown him and which he richly deserves." "H'm! that does not tell us very much," muttered Harry to Arthur who sat next to him. "We always did like Jack but the mystery is no more clear than it was before." "I trust that there will be no repetition of the scene of this morning," the doctor went on. "There may have been provocation on both sides but we will not allude further to this and the rest of you will forget it or at any rate not speak of it." "That is not so easy," murmured Arthur to Harry. "It clears Jack in a way, at any rate, and that is enough for me." Jack went to his place and the doctor took his seat at his desk and matters went on as usual. Herring gave Jack the blackest of black looks when next they met but Jack paid no more attention to this than if he had not seen it and Herring muttered something under his breath which Jack did not hear. "It seems rather strange," said Percival to some of the boys at recess, "that Wise did not more thoroughly disapprove of the squabble of this morning, but the reason I suppose is that he respected the mystery surrounding Jack and did not care to clear it up by making too great an investigation. Jack says his father is dead and I shall believe him and that liar Herring had better keep his lips closed tight on the subject." "You are breaking the doctor's injunction that we were to say nothing about it, Dick," laughed Billy Manners, "but I suppose you couldn't just help it. I know I couldn't." "Well, that is all I am going to say about it," replied Percival and the matter was not mentioned although, none of the boys could help thinking of it at odd times. Herring still treated Jack with disdain but was careful to avoid an open rupture, the recollection of the stunning blow which the apparently slight young fellow had given him acting as a deterrent to his wrath so that he avoided the boy as much as possible while he still retained his rancor. Percival said nothing to Jack about his past life, preferring to let the boy take his own time about clearing up the mystery which was no clearer than before. "I'll get even with Sheldon before I leave the Academy," declared Herring to Ernest Merritt and another of his satellites a day or so after the exciting scene in front of the school. "He can't walk over me if he has got Dick Percival for his friend." "You can't lick him," laughed Merritt, who did not have the same fear of his associate that he formerly had. "He has a fist like a rock for all that he looks so slight. You were three or four minutes coming round the other day." "Suppose he has?" snarled Herring. "I can train, can't I? If I send him a challenge to fight, he can't refuse to take it up and keep his self-respect, can he?" "Yah! what do you know about self-respect or honor?" laughed Merritt. "You haven't got either and----" He was obliged to retreat and leave the sentence unfinished to avoid the swinging blow that Herring aimed at him, the third boy narrowly missing catching it in his stead. "Here! Look out what you are about!" he roared. "Look where you're hitting, can't you?" "Pete Herring means to do Jack an injury, Art," said Harry who had seen the three talking together, "and we shall have to watch him." "I guess Jack can watch himself," chuckled Arthur. "He is not afraid of Pete Herring and he is not a boy to be caught napping." "But some one threw him down the ravine." "Yes, but it won't happen again and so we won't have to keep a watch upon this fellow. I'd like to know if it were really Pete who did it. Dick met him and Merritt right after the thing happened and puts it down to one of them." "I think it was Pete myself," said Harry, "and that's why I think he needs looking after." The new number of the Academy magazine was expected to come out in a day or so and promised to be a very interesting one, Percival and the assisting members of the editorial staff having gone over the proofs and found them satisfactory. There was still some little matter to go in and Jack promised to furnish this, taking or sending it to Mr. Brooke who did the printing. On Friday afternoon, having written the last of his copy, Jack took Percival's runabout which he now had permission to do at any time, and set off for Riverton and the office of the _News_. He saw Dick as he was leaving and said: "I am going down with the last of the matter for the magazine. Will you come along?" "No, I guess not. I am getting up for examination next week. I am a bit behind in my work. You won't hurt the machine." "Very good. Brooke will want to print the paper and have it sent up to-morrow and so I am giving him the last of the stuff for it. It will not take long to set it up and then he can print it to-morrow." "All right, I can trust you with it. Guess I don't have to revise what you write." The run to Riverton was made in a short time and Jack left the car outside and went into the office, being somewhat surprised to hear the sound of presses going as he entered. They were not usually started till the next day but Jack surmised that the editor might be running off some special job to save time and went straight to the inner office where he saw Mr. Brooke pecking away at the typewriter. "Pretty busy now, Mr. Sheldon," said the little man, looking up for an instant. "You'll have to excuse me." "But I have brought the last of the copy for the _Gazette_. Shall I give it to the foreman?" "The last of it? Why, you sent it this morning and told us to go ahead with the magazine." "I sent you copy this morning?" exclaimed Jack in some surprise. "Yes, this morning or early this afternoon. We set it up and they are now running off----" "But I sent you nothing, Mr. Brooke. You say they are running off the paper now?" "Yes, of course. You said you wanted it the first thing in the morning." With a vague sense of apprehension that something was wrong and yet unable to say why, Jack went out into the printing office and picked up a newly printed sheet from a pile that lay in front of the press then being worked. The sheet was not folded and several pages of the matter were visible at once. Quickly glancing his eye over the sheet he suddenly came upon an article on the first page which had no business there. It was not more than four or five lines in length and was a bitter and most scurrilous attack on Dr. Wise, signed "Jack Sheldon." "Stop the press," cried Jack to the boy who was feeding the sheets. "Stop the press! This thing must not go in!" "Hey?" shouted the boy. "Stop the press!" cried Jack and in a moment he had thrown off the belt and the machine came to a standstill. "What's the matter?" asked Mr. Brooke, missing the noise of the press and coming out to learn the reason. "This!" said Jack, pointing out the offensive article. "Did you allow this to be set up, Mr. Brooke?" "I? No, indeed. I did not know it was here. If you don't want it, why did you send it in?" "I did not. I am not in the habit of signing my nickname to things I write. There was something else on this page and this rubbish has been inserted in its place. You can see that there is a break somewhere. How did you get this? Unlock the forms. It must be taken out at once. Where are the proofs? It will be easy enough to get the right matter to put back or it may be on one of the galleys." While the press boy was looking for the missing type and the foreman was unlocking the forms, Jack questioned Mr. Brooke regarding the orders to hasten the printing of the magazine and the identity of the person who had brought them. "The foreman took the order," said the editor, "and told me about it. I supposed it was all right. I don't know who set up the article you naturally object to. If I did I would discharge him." "What do you know about this?" Jack asked the foreman who was busy at the forms. "Did you see the copy or the proofs?" "No, I did not," the man replied. "I had your order to go ahead with the printing but knew nothing of any extra matter to be set up. I never saw this article before. It has been set up and inserted without my knowledge." "Here is some matter on a galley," said the boy. "Is that what you are looking for?" "Yes," said Jack, looking over the type, for Mr. Brooke could not afford a typesetting machine and set his paper by hand. "Put it where it belongs and when the magazines are printed send the bundle direct to me. If anything is in them that I do not approve we will not pay for the printing and in the future will have our work done elsewhere." "You do not hold me responsible for this?" asked Brooke. "No, but I mean to find out who is." CHAPTER XIII TRYING TO FIX THE BLAME Saving out two or three of the sheets containing the spurious article, folding them neatly and putting them carefully in the inside pocket of his coat, Jack ordered the rest to be burned in the office stove and personally witnessed their destruction. Then the missing lines were put in the form, the latter locked up and the printing proceeded, the inserted lines being speedily put into "pi." "Send the bundle addressed to me at the Academy to-morrow morning," Jack said, "and remember that if there is any change whatever, the editors will not be responsible for the payment." "But you don't hold me responsible for this rascality?" sputtered Brooke in the same nervous manner he used when pecking at his typewriter. "You can't expect that----" "I have said all that I have to say at present," replied Jack. "Yes, but I want to understand the situation." "I have said nothing about what has already happened. I allude to any future happenings. Send me the bundle in the morning." "Couldn't you call for it? That is generally done. It won't take you any time at all to run down in the car and to-morrow is Saturday and a holiday. With me it is a busy day." The editor seemed to be in such real distress that Jack answered: "I will flash you an answer to-night at ten o'clock by the Morse international." The boy and the editor were now in the latter's sanctum and not in the main office so that there were no hearers to the conversation. "International, not American?" asked the editor. "Yes. Every one does not know the International but every local telegrapher knows the American." "Yes, but I don't see why----" "If some unscrupulous person should send you a message purporting to come from me you would know that it did not if my instructions were not carried out, wouldn't you?" "Certainly, but have you any apprehension that----" "It is possible. I will let you know to-night. I do not want to telephone and will flash you instead." "Very good." Jack then left the building, entered the car and in a quarter of an hour was at the Academy. He saw Harry and Arthur on the grounds and called to them to go with him as soon as he put up the car. The three went to Percival's room where they found the young fellow busy over a Greek translation. "Read this, you fellows," said Jack, distributing the printed sheets he had brought up from the office of the _News_. "But, I say, Jack!" exclaimed Percival. "You don't mean----" "Why, this is positively awful!" gasped Harry. "There will be no more _Gazettes_ after this," wailed Arthur. "You don't imagine, any of you, that I wrote that?" asked Jack in his coolest tone. "Here, let me have one of the sheets." "But how did it get in then?" "This is not the revised sheet. In the first place I do not sign my articles 'Jack Sheldon,' do I?" "I never knew that you did." "And in the next a very careless compositor set this up. It is badly spaced, has many errors and is ungrammatical." "Yes, I can see that but I don't know anything about the spacing." "It looks as if a green hand had set it up and that gives me an idea." "Yes, but Jack, how did it get in at all?" asked Percival, still in the dark regarding the article. "It won't be in the paper to-morrow," and then Jack told of his accidental discovery of the obnoxious article and what he had done about it. Percival thought a few minutes and said: "Some one who doesn't like you has done this, Jack, or had it done. You don't suspect Brooke?" "No, for it would mean the loss of all our patronage to him. He is not such a fool." "No, of course not. Who is it then?" "That I don't know. There was collusion with some one in the _News_ office, of course, and it will be difficult to find just where it comes in. This thing was done to throw discredit on me and to stop the life of the _Gazette_." "That's just what it would mean if the thing had gone through." "It was done by some one who knows the Academy and the fellows," declared Harry. "It was aimed at Jack, principally. We know who does not like him here and it should not be a hard matter to find who is responsible." "It may be one for all that," replied Jack. "This is a serious business and the perpetrators will cover their tracks. One thing is certain. You must watch every boy that reads the _Gazette_ to-morrow. Shall I have the bundle sent up here or go after it?" "We have generally gone after them and done the distributing ourselves in the past," said Percival. "If we do that now the fellow who engineered this business will be the first to get a copy of the paper and to make it public. Did any one see you leave this afternoon or did any one know why you went to Riverton?" "No, there was no one around when I left except yourself and only Hal and Art saw me return." "Then no one suspects that you have discovered this article and suppressed it. I will take a run down in the morning and get the papers. You were to let Brooke know?" "Yes, to-night." "Good! Tell him that I will call for the papers and to deliver them to no one else." "Why don't you phone him?" asked Arthur. "That will save a lot of trouble." "And perhaps cause more," laughed Jack. "I don't like telephoning myself. There are too many listeners." "I have a wire," said Dick. "You may use it if you like. I do often and I don't know that I am bothered much." "Just now the old ladies on the party wire are not doing their afternoon gossip," chuckled Arthur. "They are busy getting supper instead. I don't believe we would have any trouble. Go ahead, Jack." Thus urged Jack stepped to the telephone, took down the receiver and called: "Let me have one two three Riverton, please. Office of the _News_, yes. They are not busy?" "Here's your party," said the operator on the other end of the wire. At the same moment Jack heard some one say, not at the 'phone but evidently in the room where the instrument was kept: "Well, I done it but I wanted the money." Jack recognized the voice as that of the boy in the _News_ office. "How much did you get?" This time the speaker was the editor, Mr. Brooke. "Five dollars." "Who paid you? Here, wait, till I answer that confounded call. Hello! who is this?" "John Sheldon, of Hilltop. Is this Mr. Brooke? Dick Percival will call for the bundle in the morning." "Very good. Now then, you rascal----" the voice being less plainly heard, "who was it paid you for doing it?" "Keep still, boys," said Jack, turning his head. "I am on the track." CHAPTER XIV "SUSPICION IS NOT PROOF" Jack listened attentively to catch the reply of the boy for upon it much depended. Some one had paid the boy to set up and insert the obnoxious article and Jack knew that his theory that a poor compositor had done the work was correct. Now the thing to be learned was who had paid him for what he had done and Jack believed that he was about to be enlightened. Then he heard the click of the receiver being put back upon the hook and the connection was cut off. "That's too bad!" he muttered as he hung up. "I thought I was going to find out something. Maybe I can yet." "Did you get him?" asked Percival. "Yes," and Jack told what he had heard over the wire. "It's too bad that Brooke hung up so soon," said Dick, "but can't you get him again?" "I suppose I might." "And ask him pointblank who it was that hired the office boy to do this dirty work." "I will, for he must know that I could hear all that was said in the room. That is a common occurrence." Jack took down the receiver again and called up the office of the _News_, presently getting an answer after some delay: "Line is busy." "Call me up when it is not, please," said Jack, giving the number of Dick's 'phone. Then he hung up again and said to the eager boys: "The line is busy, of course. It always is when you want it particularly. However, they will call me up when it is free." "Somebody paid the boy to get this thing into the _Gazette_," observed Percival, "and that somebody was an enemy of ours. Who was it?" "Some one who wants to do Jack an injury," said Harry. "There are Pete Herring, Ernest Merritt and a few others like them but Herring and his side partner are the most likely ones." "It is really narrowed down to those two when you come to it," suggested Arthur, "for they hate him the worst and are more active than the others." "I think we'd better take that for granted," added Harry, "and work along those lines. I think it was one of them, just as I think it was one of them who pushed Jack off the bank." "They may have hired a third party to do the work," remarked Percival. "They would know that they would be suspected on account of their opposition to Jack and so wish to hide their tracks." "That's all right on the supposition that they are clever fellows," laughed Harry, "but your rascals are always weak somewhere and trip themselves up. They say it takes a smart man to be a rogue and neither Herring nor Merritt has any medals for brilliancy of intellect." "No, and yet they have a certain shrewdness. Detection in a case of this sort would mean expulsion from the Academy and I do not believe either of them would care to face that." "No, but all the same I think it was one of them and I believe we will eventually discover this." "Aren't they a long time in calling you up, Jack?" asked Percival with some impatience. "Try them again." Jack took up the receiver again, therefore, and called the _News_ office. After some delay the girl at the central office said: "They don't answer. I guess they must have gone home." "Central cannot get the _News_," said Jack, hanging up. "She thinks everybody must have gone home. It is rather late for a fact," glancing at his watch. "I had not thought of that." "Has Brooke a telephone in his house?" asked Percival. "I don't know, I'll look," and Jack took down the address book hanging at the side of the instrument. "I don't remember that he has," murmured Percival. "No, he has not, only one at his office," reported Jack, after looking in the directory. "We cannot catch him now." "That's too bad," grumbled Harry. "I would have liked to know positively about the business before supper." "I can call him up after supper," suggested Dick. "He often goes back to the office of an evening. If he knows anything he will tell me, of course." "If he does?" cried Harry. "Won't he?" "If the boy tells him, but the boy may not." "He couldn't refuse. He'd lose his job if he did." "But the boy may not know the person who hired him. All the Hilltop boys are not known in Riverton and it is not positive that one of the boys of the Academy hired him. It may have been a third party." The three boys now left the room, leaving Percival alone and not seeing him until supper time. Later, Jack went to his friend's room to learn if anything had been heard from the editor. "I have not been able to get him yet," reported Dick, "but I will try again later." Up to the time of the boy's retiring for the night, however, nothing had been heard from Brooke and the boys were as much in the dark as ever. In the morning Dick went in the runabout and got the bundle of papers from Brooke. "Well, did you find out who hired the boy to put in that outrageous article?" the young fellow asked. "No, I did not," said Brooke. "He said he did not know the young man and could not tell him again if he saw him." "Where is he now, the boy I mean?" "I don't know. He did not come to work this morning and his mother says he has gone up the river to take a job somewhere else." "Did the foreman see the man who gave the order supposedly from Mr. Sheldon?" "He says he had the order by telephone and never saw the copy which he was told would be sent in. Please look over the papers now to see if they are all right." Dick read over one of the magazines, compared it hastily with a dozen others and found that no extraneous matter had been introduced. "Yes, they are all right," he said, "and we will pay you for them but I would very much like to find out who was juggling with them. It is a queer thing all around. Wouldn't the foreman know Jack's voice?" "He says he never thought to question it when some one said over the wire that he was Sheldon. He never had to do with your friend anyhow. I did most of the talking." "But didn't you think it odd to send such a message over the 'phone?" "I was pretty busy at the time working at the paper and we had some job work besides so that I left things to the foreman. He is rather hard of hearing and cannot distinguish voices very well. You have to yell at him to make him understand but the more noise there is in the office the better he can hear." "Well, I don't suppose we will see the boy again and I wouldn't know him if I did see him. Jack might, for he remembers faces. What's the boy's name, anyhow?" "Joe Jackson. He is red headed and squints. He always did get on my nerves and I am not sorry that he has gone but I shall have to find another." "Well, the papers are all right and we will give you the job again but I hope we will not have any more such trouble. You can trust to Jack to see if there is anything wrong, however." Dick took the papers, put them in the car and started for the Academy, reaching which in something less than half an hour, he found a big crowd of the Hilltop boys waiting for him. They all clamored for the papers and Dick rapidly distributed them, giving Jack a significant look to indicate that everything was all right and that the conspirators, whoever they might be, would be greatly disappointed when they examined the _Gazette_. Harry, Arthur, Billy Manners and Jack himself kept their eyes upon the suspected boys to see how the perusal of the magazine affected them. "Oh, I say, fellows, here's something rich!" Arthur heard Merritt say as he opened the paper. "Let me read--why, that's nothing." "He is one of the disappointed ones," thought Arthur, "but he may have only had knowledge of the thing rather than participated in it." Harry kept his eyes upon Herring when the latter began to look at the paper and noticed that he seemed disappointed for he turned page after page evidently without finding what he wanted. "There's nothing in that!" he sputtered in disgust. "It is not worth the paper it is printed on and wouldn't be if it were printed on the worst kind of brown wrapping paper. I won't subscribe for it again." "What is the matter with it?" asked Harry. "There's nothing in it, that's what." "You mean that you expected to find something that is not----" and then Harry caught a warning look from Jack and stopped short. Herring flushed crimson, however, and looked guilty, throwing the paper on the ground with an angry exclamation and walking hurriedly off the campus. "That's one of the fellows if not the principal one," said Harry to Jack with a triumphant tone. "I have always suspected him." "Suspicion is not proof, Harry," answered Jack, "and we must have more evidence before we can convict him." "Just wait till we do, then. I wouldn't be in his slippers at the time, not for a hundred dollars!" CHAPTER XV FUN AND EXCITEMENT The new number of the _Gazette_ was liked by all the boys with a few exceptions, which were to be expected and nowhere was anything but praise heard in regard to Jack Sheldon's first appearance as an editor for the disaffected ones were wise enough to remain quiet after the first outbreak of disapproval. "Herring will keep still," said Dick to a few of his chief cronies who were in the secret. "He does not understand just how the thing happened, but he knows that he is suspected and will keep under cover for a time. Don't say anything to arouse his suspicions." "I came pretty near letting the cat out of the bag," laughed Harry, "but I will be careful after this." "Yes, you must be. You are too apt to sputter out what you think without any regard to the consequences." The _Gazette_ was circulated among the boys of the Academy and also sent to their parents and to many other schools which exchanged with them, so that it had a considerable circulation. In a short time there were complimentary notices of the latest number of the _Gazette_ in several of the school periodicals, all of them noticing its improvement and speaking highly of the new editor. "Somebody thought that the _Gazette_ would be a dead one," laughed Billy Manners one afternoon when reading over one of the other papers with a number of his chums, "but it will be livelier than ever now. Jack is just the boy to run it and make it one of the best there is." Billy Manners was one of the chief funmakers of the Academy, although he was a good student as well and stood high in his classes. He was fond of a joke even if it happened to be at his own expense but more often it was at that of some one else. Billy and the others were so much interested in reading the complimentary notice of the _Gazette_ that they failed to observe the coming of Colonel Bull, the military instructor of the Academy. Now the Colonel was a bit of a stickler for ceremony and the boys were always obliged to salute him when they met him. Failing to notice his approach, however, he was upon them before they saw him and the only warning of his coming was the hearing of a sharp command: "Attention! Where are your manners, you cubs? Salute me this instant and keep your eyes about you another time." The boys were at attention in a moment and gave the salute in the customary stiff and wooden fashion to which they were used. "What are you reading?" demanded the Colonel. "Some sentimental rubbish, I suppose. Let me see it." Billy handed over the magazine and the Colonel looked at it, being obliged to put on his glasses in order to read it, however. "H'm! foolish but not as bad as I thought. Now you may go but at another time keep your eyes about you. Break ranks!" The boys assumed a natural attitude and Billy stooped to pick up the paper which the Colonel had thrown contemptuously upon the ground. Billy was not a ventriloquist but he did have a way of altering his voice and now, feeling a bit sore at the pompous Colonel and desiring to be revenged suddenly shouted in an ear-piercing tone: "Look out! Mad dog!" At once the Colonel, who was fat and more than forty, let out a sudden ejaculation and bolted for the nearest tree. His hat flew off, his glasses dangled at the end of their cord and thrashed around like mad and the colonel's short, fat legs ate up space in a most remarkable manner. There was a tree in the way which the colonel had not noticed and he ran into it with considerable force, knocking off his wig which the boys, up to that time, had never seen except upon his head. He got up in great haste, grabbed his wig from the ground, clapped it on his head hind side before and at once started to climb the tree. The sight of the short, fat, bald drillmaster, with his wig awry, endeavoring to climb a little tree was too much for the dignity of the boys and they burst into a roar of laughter. They had no thought of consequences, no fear of future punishment, but just laughed as hard as they could. Then there was a sudden cry of alarm around a turn in the road. "Hallo! what's that?" cried Arthur. "Great Scott! there is a mad dog after all!" gasped Harry. A number of the smaller boys of the Academy suddenly appeared in full flight pursued by a panting, yelping, foam-covered dog whose every look showed that he was mad. "H'm! the alarm was not given for nothing after all," muttered Billy, looking for a place of safety. Harry and Arthur turned toward the Academy and ran as fast as they could, thinking nothing of fun now. "Here, here, I must do something for those kids!" cried Billy, pausing in his flight. There was some one else ready to do something for them, however. The dog had almost reached the hindmost and smallest of the boys when Jack Sheldon suddenly came out of one of the cottages. He saw the danger of the boys in an instant and plunged forward as if making a tackle in a game of football. The dog was right in front of him at this moment and six feet away. Suddenly the weight of a boy of a hundred and twenty-five pounds was dropped upon the dog's back with a force that laid him flat and gave him a start for which he was not looking. In an instant he was flat on his belly on the ground with all the breath and the greater part of his desire to injure some one knocked out of him. He was able to give one yelp and then Jack suddenly sprang off his back, gave him a contemptuous shove with his foot and said: "Get out of here and go about your business!" With his tail between his legs and a yelp of fright the dog suddenly turned and went down the road as fast as he had come up. "Well! that was some way of dealing with a mad dog!" said Billy, with a laugh. "You knocked all the fight out of him in a jiffy." "Has he gone for sure?" asked one of the small boys of Jack. "Yes, and you need not be afraid. Whose dog was it and what brought him up here?" "H'm, has he gone?" asked the Colonel who had reached the crotch of the tree, fortunately not far from the ground and now turned a very red and sweaty face upon the group below. "Yes, sir," said Jack, saluting and at the same time having the greatest difficulty to refrain from smiling or even laughing outright at the comical appearance of the doughty warrior. "Go and enquire more about the matter, Sheldon," said the Colonel and Jack went away, smiling broadly now but fortunately holding in his laugh. "He wants a chance to get down from the tree, adjust his wig and get back his dignity," whispered Billy, who went off with Jack. "Yes, but how did he get there?" "It was one of my jokes and I'll get a wigging if he finds it out," chuckled Billy. "There wasn't any mad dog at first but I made him think there was. You should have seen him climb that tree, Jack. It would've delighted your heart. He won't be scoring us again in a hurry but if there had not been a mad dog I guess I would have caught it." "Be careful how you play jokes on the Colonel, Billy," said Jack, when he heard the whole story and laughed over it. "There are some persons at whom it is not safe to poke fun and Colonel Bull is one." "He forgot to put the last letter to his name, that's all," laughed Billy, "for he is a bully all right, but your advice is good and I will take it--or at least I will try." "That is well put," said Jack, dryly, "for I don't believe you could help making jokes if you did try." CHAPTER XVI AN ANONYMOUS ACCUSATION When next Jack saw the Colonel the latter had regained his wig, his natural complexion and his dignity, the last being so great that it was a perfect danger signal warning away all levity or even the slightest sign of it on the part of the boys. "You showed very commendable bravery, Sheldon," said the Colonel, "and I congratulate you for your spirit. Rescuing those in danger is more commendable than conducting an imitation newspaper." "Thank you, sir," said Jack, saluting and going back to his friends. "What has Bull got against the _Gazette_?" he asked Arthur and Harry. "Oh, it poked a little quiet fun at him once and he has never recovered from it," laughed Harry. "The Colonel is a bit of a martinet and imagines that the army lost one of its brightest officers when he was retired." "But he was a Colonel?" "Only by courtesy. He would have stayed on till he was a hundred years old if he could, the pay being a consideration, but was retired some twenty years ago and now earns his living by instructing us boys and by occasional articles to the educational magazines." "It was all I could do to keep from laughing and I can imagine what Billy would get if the Colonel knew how he had been humbugged. He can be a very disagreeable person when he is aroused, I imagine." The boy had not the slightest apprehension of having any trouble with the drillmaster, always treating him with the respect due his position and giving no cause for any complaint on the other's part. The term was progressing smoothly, the majority of the Hilltop boys attending sedulously to their duties and trying to make a good record, the exceptions being very few, even some of the disagreeable set like Herring and his cronies working with considerable vigor. Jack was already high in his classes and it looked as if he might be still higher before the end of the term for he was working with a purpose and meant to finish as near the top as possible. "If you don't see Jack Sheldon at the head of his class by the end of the term I shall miss my guess," said Harry to Percival and one or two others one afternoon as some of the boys were taking a stroll through the woods near the bottom of the hill. "I would not mind seeing him there even if he passes me," said Dick. "Jack is a good fellow and if he can win a scholarship it will mean much to him. He deserves it at any rate." "But he is not in your classes," said Harry. "No, but he might make a better average and next year he might be up with me and then I should have to look out. I was not thinking of just now alone." The boys passed on, not knowing that Herring and Merritt were hiding behind some bushes within easy hearing. "That gives me an idea," muttered Herring when the others had gone. "I can smash Sheldon's chances and I am going to do it." "How will you manage it?" asked Merritt. "You leave it to me," with a chuckle. "I may want you to help me a bit but I'll put a spoke in his wheel all right and the doctor won't admire him as much as he does when I get through with him." "Look out that the thing does not fall through like that matter of cooking the _Gazette_ to suit yourself," sneered the other. "You were as much in that as I was," snarled Herring, "and if you split on me you will hurt yourself." "I ain't going to split," whined Merritt, "but I know when a fellow makes a mess of a thing. You came near giving yourself away on that." "Me? It was you that did it. Some of the fellows suspect you but they can't prove anything." "Well, never mind that. How are you going to fix Sheldon this time?" "I'll let you know. I've an idea but I want to get it in shape so that there won't be any slip. He won't come out on top nor anywhere near it when this thing gets to going." "All right, I'll help you for I don't like Sheldon any better than you and I'd like to spoil his chances." One morning a day or so after this Dr. Wise received an anonymous letter written and addressed in typewriting and posted at Riverton, which caused him some little uneasiness. During the morning session when all of the boys were in the great schoolroom, he called for attention and said, evidently with the greatest reluctance: "It is not my custom to notice unsigned communications but I have one here which I feel must be investigated in common justice to the person accused. I will read it." The boys looked at each other, wondering what was coming and the doctor read the half sheet of note paper which he held in his hand. "J. S. has a pony in his desk. You had better search it. This may account for his standing in class." The boys all understand that by a "pony" was meant a translation of some work in one of the dead languages which they were studying at the time. "This is a serious accusation," the doctor went on. "What boy has the initials J. S.?" "I have, sir," spoke up Jack, promptly. "My name is John Sheldon." "So have I!" cried the other boy. "I am Jasper Sawyer. Maybe it's me he means." "That's nothing, my name is James Sharpe," said another. "And I answer to the name of Jesse W. Smith!" piped up one of the smallest boys in the Academy. There was a titter among the boys and Harry whispered to Arthur: "Somebody has made a miscalculation here. I wonder who it is?" "Smith is out of the question," remarked the doctor. "You are not studying Greek or Latin, are you, Smith?" "No, sir," and the boys laughed again for Jesse W. Smith was not even in the Latin grammar as yet. "Have any of the rest of you bearing the initials J. S. a translation in your desks?" the doctor asked. "I will take your word for it." "No, sir," answered Sawyer and Sharpe. "I have none, sir," said Jack, "but if you wish to search my desk you are at perfect liberty to do so. In fact, I will search it myself." "That is not necessary, Sheldon," replied the doctor quickly, but Jack was already hunting through his desk, taking out everything at hand in a rapid fashion. "Of course it is not!" sputtered Harry. "No one accuses him of----" "Here is a translation, sir," said Jack, suddenly, when he came to the bottom of his desk, "but I need not tell you that it does not belong to me. It is a Cæsar." "Sheldon has been out of Cæsar all this term," exclaimed Percival. "It is absurd to think that the pony----" "Might it have belonged to you at some time, Sheldon?" asked the doctor, not noticing Dick's interruption. "I do not say that it did, you understand." "No, sir, it might not. I never used a translation in my life and never will!" Jack was hurriedly examining the book as he spoke and now noticed that the fly leaf was torn out, evidently in haste, the edges being ragged and a bit of writing on one of them. "This bo----" was on one line and "erty of" on the next. "I give you my word of honor, Doctor, that this is not my property," said Jack, "but I would like to keep it for the present," and he put the little book in his pocket. "Very well, Sheldon," said Dr. Wise. "You are clearly exonerated from this charge." "But Jack has something up his sleeve as well as in his pocket, believe me," whispered Billy Manners to Arthur. CHAPTER XVII THE MATTER SETTLED Lessons were resumed and no more was said concerning the charge against Jack or any of the boys having the same initials, Sawyer and Sharpe being ready to turn out their desks for the doctor's satisfaction but not being required to do so. Jack's friends did not believe in his guilt, even without his saying that the book was not his and they all regarded the affair as a very clumsy one. "Whoever it was ought to know that Jack was not in Cæsar," said Harry. "If he had put in a translation of something Jack was doing at this time there would have been more reason." "And nobody sends an anonymous letter who has any spunk," muttered Billy Manners. "The doctor would have done right to have paid no attention to it but he is a good old fellow and wants to do right by all." "I'd like to know what Jack is going to do about it," thought Dick. "He won't let it rest. I have an idea who did this for it was just his clumsy way of working that betrays him but I won't say anything." When the forenoon recess arrived, the boys generally went out upon the campus but Jack went straight to the cellar where the negro coachman and general caretaker was at work cleaning up. "What do you do with the papers and stuff you sweep up of a morning, Bucephalus?" asked Jack. "Ah gather them in a receptickle fo' de puppose, sah, and den Ah communicate dem to de fiah, sah," answered the man. "Have you done so as yet?" "Ah have not yet consigned the rubbish to the fiah, sah. Dere it is in dem baskets yondah. You done lose something, sah?" "No, I want to find something," replied Jack. He went over to the waste paper baskets standing on the floor in one corner and began to turn out their contents. "The fellow may have torn out the fly leaf before," he thought, "but it looks like a fresh tear. If so, and he did not keep the leaf or throw it away somewhere it will probably be here." Turning out the bits of torn paper, old exercises and other things, Jack looked carefully at every scrap in search of the missing fly leaf. "It's only a fool who would put his name in a translation, to betray him at any time," he mused, "but there are just such fools in the world." There were many bits of paper which were obviously not the one he wanted and he passed them over rapidly and threw them aside. He came upon more than one crumpled bit and picked them up but upon smoothing them out found that they were not the thing he wanted. At length he saw a tight ball of crumpled paper which he was about to pass over as being nothing and then took up and unrolled carefully. Smoothing it out he saw that it was a piece of book paper and was written on. When it was nicely smoothed out and laid upon the inside of the book found in his desk and now produced from his pocket, he read the following inscription written in a scrawly hand: "This book is the property of Peter Herring, Hilltop. Don't steal." The torn edges fitted perfectly and the letters remaining on the inner edge of the leaf were followed regularly by those on the other side. "That accuses Peter Herring all right," said Jack. "This is his book and if he did not put it in my desk who would? At any rate, it will be safe enough to make the accusation." Putting the book back in his pocket, the torn leaf being now in its place, Jack went up stairs and out upon the grounds. There were some of his chums at a little distance and Herring and Merritt were just going around the corner of the building toward the barn, being evidently engaged in earnest conversation. Jack waited a minute and then followed them into the barn. "Maybe it didn't work all right," Herring was saying, "but folks'll suspect him just the same." "It wouldn't have went all right if I hadn't seen your name in it," snapped Merritt, "and made you tear it out before you slipped it in his desk last night." "That's all right, he didn't see it and I did tear it out." "Burn it up?" "I guess so. Anyhow, no one won't find it and if they do so long as it ain't in the book--what the mischief!" Herring suddenly found a book placed in front of his nose and, turning his head quickly, saw Jack Sheldon standing behind him. "They will know that it belongs to this particular book now, won't they, when the edges match so perfectly, Herring?" asked Jack. "You were very clumsy in putting a Cæsar in my desk when I am not studying it and more so in having your name in it." Herring turned crimson and tried to snatch the book out of Jack's hand. "You can have it now, for I no longer have any use for it," said the boy, slapping Herring's face with the book, "and now I am going to give you the thrashing you have so long deserved." "You are, eh?" snarled Herring, backing away. "Yes. It is the only thing you understand." "You see fair play, Ern," blustered the bully. Jack only smiled and then without further notice attacked his enemy and administered what he had promised, a sound thrashing. In a very few minutes he forced Herring to cry for a respite and to acknowledge that he was beaten. "I could make you apologize before the doctor and the whole school," said Jack, as he heard the bell ring to call the boys back to their duties, "but there is no shaming a fellow who is without shame and the way I have taken is much more efficacious and you will remember it." Then Jack left the barn and went back to the building, meeting Percival and Billy Manners at the door. "Where have you been, Jack?" asked Dick. "Wrestling with a passage from Cæsar," said Jack, with a laugh. "Did you get the best of it?" "I think I did." "Yes, but you are not studying Cæsar. What do you mean?" "I'll tell you later if you don't guess," and Jack passed on and into the room and took his accustomed seat. Merritt came in rather late and some of the boys noticed that he looked excited over something. It was nearly ten minutes before Herring took his seat and then it was seen that his face was wet and evidently lately washed and that there was a discoloration around his nose and another under one of his eyes. "Hello! I guess he has been wrestling with something, too," thought Percival. "I wonder if it had anything to do with Cæsar?" "You are very late, Herring," said the doctor. "What is the reason?" "Fell down and bruised my face," muttered Herring. "Had to wash up before I came in. My nose bled." "See that it does not occur again," said Dr. Wise, using the customary phrase which had become a habit with him. "It will if he fools with Jack Sheldon," chuckled Percival. "I'll bet anything that he was the one who put the Cæsar in Jack's desk and got paid up for it." Neither Percival nor any of the other boys had a chance to speak to Jack about the matter until dinner when a knot of them interviewed him at the door of the dining hall. "Were you the cause of Herring's being late to class after recess, Jack?" asked Percival. "Did you find out anything?" put in Harry. "I had a bet that it was Pete who tried to undermine you in his generally clumsy fashion." "The affair is settled, boys," said Jack, quietly. "We need not think any more about it." And that was all he would say, for all their coaxing. CHAPTER XVIII AN EXPLORING TRIP THROUGH THE WOODS After school was over that day Percival came to Jack and said: "We are going off into the woods, some of us, to explore things generally. Won't you come along, Jack?" "Of course he will," put in Billy Manners, who came along at that moment with Harry and Arthur. "He will want to make some more discoveries to add to those he has already made. The place is new to us where we are going and, consequently, will be new to him." "We are going into a part of the woods beyond here that is new to us, and you will enjoy it as well as the rest," said Percival. "I shall be glad to go with you, Dick," said Jack. "Are you going to take your lunch, Billy? Shall we be away as long as that?" The other boys now noticed that Billy carried a black box under his arm, but until Jack had spoken of it they had not observed it. "That is not a lunch box," laughed Billy, "but you have eyes all the same. No one else noticed it." "What is it, anyhow?" asked Kenneth Blaisdell, one of the new boys at the Academy. "Box for botanic specimens?" "No, it is not and I am not going to satisfy your curiosity by telling you what it is just now," chuckled Billy. "Come on, Dick, we have a large enough party now." There were Percival, Jack, Harry, Arthur, Billy Manners, Blaisdell and Jasper Sawyer, the boy whose initials were the same as Jack's, seven in all, and each of the party well liked by all the rest. They set off without delay, and passing through the woods back of the Academy, and avoiding the ravine down which Jack had fallen, kept on down the hill on the side away from the station at the foot, and then up another and through a very rough, extremely wild section, where travel at times was most difficult. "There is not much wonder that we have not been here before," laughed Billy Manners, as he sat on a rock and puffed for breath after they had gone some distance through the thicket, and stopped in an opening where the travel was better. "Yes, we should have brought axes with us," said Percival. "I had no idea the country through here was so rough." "Well, the doctor said it was and so did some of the fellows," said Arthur; "so we cannot say anything." "Did they tell you about this gully?" asked Jack, who had gone ahead a few paces, and paused in front of a deep gully stretching right across their path, and presenting an obstacle which there seemed to be no way of getting over. The gully was quite wide in front of them, and to the left extended into the woods as far as they could see, while on the right it presently ended at a great mass of ledge rock, which towered well above their heads, and was crowned with trees, some of them very big, while at different points, as far as the bottom, there were trees of various sizes growing from crevices in the rock. "H'm! I guess they did not know about this," muttered Percival. "This gully can be bridged all right, and it will be a nice job for us; just the sort I like, but in the meantime, how are we going to get over and go on with our exploring?" "You ought to know that," laughed Billy Manners. "You are an engineer, you know. A little thing like that ought not to bother you." "Well, it does all the same," said Percival with some impatience, as Billy took the black box from under his arm. "What are you going to do now, you funny fellow?" "Take a picture of that ledge," said Billy, looking around for a flat rock or a stump upon which to place his box. "Wait a minute till we get back," said Blaisdell, who had joined Jack at the gully. "It looks to me as if there was a cave down there. There is some sort of an opening at the bottom of the ledge, seems to me." "Yes, so there is. I never noticed it before. How are you going to get a picture, Billy? That is no camera you have. Where is your lens?" "Haven't any! I can take a picture without a lens, only it will require more time to make the exposure." "Take a photograph without a lens?" said Percival in a tone of doubt, mixed with scorn. "You must be crazy!" Several of the boys thought the same as Dick, and laughed heartily at what they considered one of Billy's harum scarum schemes. "Go ahead and laugh, boys," said the good-natured fellow, as he placed his small square box on top of a flat rock he had found, and pointed it toward the ledge at the foot of which Blaisdell had discovered his supposed cave entrance. "I know something that you fellows do not, and I am going to get a picture. The light is fine, for it just sifts nicely through the trees, and the sun is quite high enough yet." "Yes, but Billy, if you have no lens nor shutter, how are you going to take a photograph?" asked Blaisdell. "That doesn't look like anything but a square box." "That is all it is, but it is a camera just the same. Did you never hear tell of a pinhole camera, my boy?" "No, I did not. What is it?" "I have a plate in this box, and it is set at what they call a universal focus. That is, I can take a picture of something not too close, and one at a distance. The box is lined with black paper, and in front there is a very small hole, now covered by a flap of the same stuff. This hole will admit the light fast enough, and yet not too fast, and as my plate is sensitized, I can get a picture even if I have no lens. Did you ever see a 'camera obscura,' as they call them?" "Oh, you mean one of those things that take a panoramic view of the beach and everything in sight? People get shown up sometimes when they don't know it." "Yes, that's the thing. You don't get a real photograph there, but you see everything shown up on a table, as the thing at the top revolves. Well, I will get a picture with my pinhole camera even if I have no lens. Why, they used to sell these things, maybe they do yet." "Why, yes, seems to me I have seen something about them in the advertisements." "No doubt," and Billy, having seen that his out-of-the-way camera was perfectly level, carefully removed the black flap from the tiny hole in the front of the box and said: "That's all right. You fellows cannot get in front of it, and so there will be no harm done. It will take some time to get a picture, but I will have it all the same. The light is fine and I can afford to wait." "There's a cave down there all right, Dick," said Jack. "Don't you think so?" "Yes, it looks like a cave," said Percival. "How would you like to go down and explore it?" "All right, if we can manage it. Got a light? We can make torches I suppose. There is plenty of pine wood about. Anyhow, I have my pocket flash with me." "You fellows can go down there if you like," laughed Arthur, "but none of it for me." "Or for me either," said Harry. "Come on, Dick," said Jack. "Here is a good place to get down, I think." The two boys supplied themselves with stout sticks with which to aid them in getting down, and then began to make the descent, the other boys sitting or standing around. Step by step, from rock to rock, and from one tree root to another the two chums made their way down into the gully and toward the hole in the face of the ledge, which they could at length see was of considerable depth, and high enough for them to pass through without stooping. They finally reached the bottom, and then were not far from the hole into which they made their way, finding that it extended for some distance at an incline part of the way, and then on a level, as it seemed. "There are lots of these holes in the Hudson valley," said Jack, "and sometimes they are interesting, while at other times they are nothing but holes, don't go very far, and have nothing in them after all." "You don't expect stalactites or anything of that sort, do you, Jack?" asked Dick. "No, for this is not a limestone region, like that in Kentucky or in Virginia, where there are some of the famous caves. However, it will be worth our while to go down here, I think, or I would not have undertaken it. We do not need to go very far. This place may be known, although the people in the woods hereabout don't take much stock in such things, as they say and think tourists and summer boarders who want to explore them just a lot of crazy fools." "It's an easy thing to call a man a fool because he can understand or like things that you don't," laughed Dick. The boys at length got so far into the hole in the rocks that they had to make use of Jack's pocket electric torch, and they proceeded, still on a down grade, and finding the way a bit rough in spots, but at last finding it better traveling and more level. They had turned somewhat, and looking back, could not see the entrance where they had come in, nor the gully beyond, nor any light, Percival saying with a bit of a shudder: "H'm! it is a bit creepy in here, isn't it, Jack?" "Oh, I don't know," laughed Jack. "I think other people have been here before us, Dick. I can see black spots on the rock overhead, as if smoke from torches had made them. Then the rock under our feet is worn somewhat. Some one has been in here before, although not recently." "H'm! you notice everything, as Ken Blaisdell said just now," laughed Percival. "Does anything escape your notice?" "Well, Dick, I have had to keep my eyes about me pretty much all of my life in order to make my way, and I suppose it has got to be a habit, but am I any more observant than most boys? They say that little children notice everything, certainly a good deal more than their parents like, sometimes. Perhaps I have not gotten over my childish habits." "Oh, I don't believe you were one of those young nuisances that call attention to everything, the grandmother's wig, the maiden aunt's false teeth and the like," chuckled Percival. "Yes, I think you are particularly observant and--hello! what's that?" as a dull sound broke upon their ears. "It might be thunder," said Jack. "It sounds somewhere behind us. That's all right. This place begins to look interesting, Dick. Suppose we go on." The floor of the cave was quite level here, and the place wider and higher than before, so that it was really much more a cave than a mere hole in the ground, and the boys pushed on, having plenty of light from Jack's torch, and being in no danger of stumbling or falling. They pushed on for a few hundred feet, and then came upon a narrow passage where they at first thought the cave ended. Jack flashed his light ahead of him, and saw that there was evidently a chamber beyond the passage, and in a few moments they came out in it, and, to the amazement of both, saw a rude table and a bench, and on the floor some old clothes, a black mask or two, some burglars' tools and a coarse sack. "Hello! here's a discovery, Jack," cried Percival. "I shouldn't wonder if this was some more of the plunder taken by the man with the white mustache and his accomplices." "It certainly looks like it," said Jack, examining the sack and finding nothing in it; "but it strikes me that I can see a light ahead of us. Suppose we go on." "All right," agreed Dick, and Jack led the way forward. CHAPTER XIX MORE THAN ONE WAY OUT Pushing on, Jack made his way, followed by Dick, through a narrow passage and out into an open space where they could see the sky and a lot of trees and bushes above them with a rough path leading to the ground above. "Well, we have found the way out, as well as the way in," said Jack, "and we might as well go out this way as to return the way we came." "But can we find the boys?" "Certainly. You have a pocket compass?" "No, I have not." "Well, I have one or had, and anyhow, I don't think we need it. It is daylight, and we know the direction we want to go. We should not have any trouble in finding our way back." "How are you going to do it when there is no road that we know of?" asked Percival, as Jack began making his way toward the top of the unnatural bowl in which they found themselves. "I'll show you, Dick," Jack replied, pushing on, now using the stick to assist him and now getting along without it. They reached the top at last, and then Jack began examining the trees about him, and presently said, pointing off into the woods: "That is the south, and the boys are in that direction." "How do you know it is the south?" asked Percival. "Because the trees are more worn on this side, from frost and exposure. Look on the other side and you will see a difference." "Yes, I see it. The other side is smooth, while this is rough and of a different color. And that is the north side, is it? I have noticed trees looking like that, but did not think of settling direction by it." "Yes, you can, and you will never go wrong. Come on, I think we can find the boys all right," and with a look at the sun, which could be seen above the treetops, Jack started off, Percival following. Jack knew from the position of the sun and from the exposed side of the trees which way to go, and he pushed on in a straight line without deviating a foot to either side toward where he judged he would find the boys, keeping an eye for ledge rock and listening for any sounds which would tell him that he was nearing the other end of the cave. In the meantime, unknown to the two chums, the boys remaining at the gully were having a bit of excitement of their own, and were seriously alarmed about the two in the cave. The sound that Dick and Jack had heard in the cave was not thunder, as Jack had suggested, but something entirely different. When the boys had been in the cave a short time, there came a sudden rustling on a part of the ledge Billy had aimed his camera at, and all of a sudden a great boulder fell into the gully. "Hello!" exclaimed Arthur. "That's bad. Who would have thought of it? Jack and Dick are shut in there!" A considerable mass of earth had been carried down with the boulder, and now the entrance to the cave was completely filled by the rubbish. "I am afraid they are shut in, Art," said Blaisdell seriously. "Who would have thought of that?" cried Harry, going forward and looking into the gully. "Certainly Jack did not, or he would not have gone in there." Blaisdell and three or four others stepped to the brink of the gully, and looked down, as the dust began to settle. "It's closed up all right," said Billy Manners, covering the aperture of his pinhole camera. "Do you mean the mouth of the cave or your picture box?" asked Blaisdell. "You are a funny fellow, Billy." "Both," said Billy tersely. "I guess it is as far as the cave goes," remarked Jasper Sawyer. "Now the question is how are we going to get the boys out?" "H'm! we've got to take away that stuff, I suppose," said Harry. "It won't be so hard getting down there, but there's a lot of stuff to get rid of. Come on, boys, get down there and set to work." "My! but there's a lot of this stuff!" exclaimed Sawyer, getting to work. "I wonder if we can get rid of it before the boys get back? Do you suppose they heard the noise and knew what it was?" "How would they know?" asked Arthur, throwing aside a lot of stones and earth. "The place is probably pretty big, or they would have been back by this time." There were four or five boys at work, but as Harry had remarked, there was a lot of the earth and stones to remove, and they were more or less in each other's way. "We might call to them," suggested Jasper Sawyer at length. "If they are not too far off they will hear us." "That's all right," agreed Blaisdell, and he and the rest of the boys shouted at the top of their voices. There was no reply, and, indeed, Jack and Dick did not hear them, being at some distance from the mouth of the cave at this moment. The boys presently shouted again, but still there was no response, and Harry said in great disgust: "We are only wasting our breath. They can't hear through all this rubbish, and they may be a good way off. I should not wonder if the cave was a big one. There are some such in the mountains along the Hudson valley, especially in these counties. Nobody bothers with them very much, but they're here all the same." The boys kept hard at work removing the debris that had fallen into the entrance of the cave, but some of this consisted of great rocks, which were impossible to get rid of with the means at their disposal, and Harry presently growled, as he wiped his perspiring forehead with one hand while he leaned against the ledge with the other: "We'll have to blow this stuff up. If it were only earth and gravel we could do something, but there are rocks as big as a house in the hole, and we can never get rid of them." Several of these boulders had been uncovered by throwing aside the earth, so that Harry's statement was seen not to be an exaggerated one, and Arthur replied: "We have nothing to blow it up with. Would prying do any good, do you think? We have no bars, but we can get plenty of stout poles from the trees, and they will help us." "I shouldn't wonder. It is clear enough that we cannot do much with the shovels alone." "Hark!" cried young Sawyer, who was too little to do a great amount of the kind of work the boys were doing at the moment, but who seemed to be on the alert; "don't you hear something?" "Keep still, boys," said Billy Manners. "Sawyer has heard something. There is not much of him, but it is all good stuff." "Keep still!" said the smaller boy impatiently, and there was silence. In a few moments there was an unmistakable shout heard, distant, it was true, but still a well-defined shout. "That's Percival!" cried young Sawyer. "Hello!" shouted Harry. "Keep her up, boys! Give a good shout all of us. Now then!" All of the boys shouted at the same time, and then kept quiet to hear the answering shout. "All right, we are coming!" they heard Jack shout in a clear, shrill tone, which had great carrying power. "Where are they?" asked Billy. "That does not sound from the cave. Hello! Are you in the cave, you fellows?" "No, we found a way out," came the answer in a few moments. "Bully!" shouted Billy. "That lets you out, boys. We don't need to dig any more." The boys in the gully scrambled out of it in great glee, and then set up a shout which was soon answered at a less distance than before, and shortly after that they heard Jack's voice from somewhere above them saying: "Hello, you fellows! We are up here. How are we going to get down?" The boys all looked up and saw Jack Sheldon and Dick Percival standing on top of the ledge, at the foot of which was the entrance of the cave. "How did you get there?" asked Blaisdell. "We were trying to dig you out, but we are glad we don't have to." "Dig us out?" asked Percival in astonishment. "Yes. When the boulder fell it sent down a lot of stones and earth, and completely blocked the entrance of the cave." "Then it was fortunate we found the other entrance," said Jack. "Another one?" "Yes, in the woods over yonder, a wild place, wilder than this. We'll tell you all about it when we get down." Jack and Percival now quickly joined their companions, who were eager to learn of their experiences in the cave. The boys were greatly interested in hearing of what Jack and Dick had discovered in the cave, and speculated about the presence of the burglars' tools, some of them wondering if the bank robbers made the cave their headquarters, and why the tools had not been taken away before. "Well, if the place is closed I shall have a picture of it at any rate," declared Billy. "Which cannot amount to much," laughed Harry, "seeing that your camera has neither shutter nor lens." "Never you mind," said Billy. "That camera of mine is going to surprise you boys." CHAPTER XX WHAT BILLY'S CAMERA REVEALED As it was now getting well along in the afternoon, and as the way back was a difficult one, Percival and Jack decided that they would better return without making any further explorations. "We have found out a lot that we did not know, anyhow," said Percival, "and we can come here again." "Certainly I never knew about that cave," remarked Arthur, "although I have been here two years." "That is not so much to be wondered at," declared Harry. "The place is hard to get at and out of the way, and I don't believe you could get many of the boys to come here even if you told them there was a cave to be seen. I don't think I would care to come again." "I would," said Sawyer, "but it is not an easy job all the same." "Bother the thing!" sputtered Billy Manners. "It is nothing but a hiding place for burglars and thieves. Pity you did not find some more of the stolen property, Jack." "It has probably been taken out. They could afford to leave their tools behind, but they would take everything else." The boys talked about the place as they made their way back to the Academy, which they reached shortly before supper, and all agreed that it was rather too great an undertaking to visit the cave again, all being tired and glad to rest after their tramp. "I want to see how my picture turned out, Jack," said Billy Manners after supper when it was quite dark. "Then I want to get the laugh on those fellows that said my makeshift was no good. I know it is." "All right, Billy," laughed Jack. "I can fix you up a dark room in the cottage. I have developers and all that, though I suppose you have also." "Yes, I have everything. Have you a camera, Jack? You never said anything about it." "Well, I have not had much occasion to say anything or to use it, but I have one. Come ahead, get your plate and we will develop it." On the way to the cottage they met Dick Percival, who was greatly interested when he heard what they were going to do and said: "I'd like to see you develop that plate, for, to tell the truth, I don't have much faith in these photographic freaks. Do you think there will be anything on the plate, Jack?" "Yes," said Jack shortly. "All right, then. If you have faith in it I have nothing to say." Reaching the room in the cottage, Jack locked the door to keep out all possible intruders, got out his ruby lamp and developers, and set to work. Billy had faith in his pinhole camera, because it was his. Jack was certain that he would get a picture, because he knew about such things, and Dick was interested because Jack was, and therefore the three watched the process of developing with considerable interest. Jack had running water and all the facilities for doing good work, and it was also apparent that he had done a good deal of it. "By Jove! you are a wonder, Jack," laughed Percival. "I am all the time finding out new things that you can do. If we were not with you so much we would not know how much you can do. You never tell about it." "What is the use?" said Jack quietly. "If I can accomplish anything it is bound to be found out some time." "Of course, but most fellows would tell you ahead that they were going to do so and so and make a lot of talk about it. You just go ahead and do it without making any fuss." "Why, no, of course not, but it is so different from the ordinary fellow's way of doing things." The boys watched the picture appear on Billy's plate, and the funny fellow said with a grin of great satisfaction: "There is something there all right, Jack. It is good and sharp, too, if I know anything. Why, you can see each individual leaf and the rocks stand out fine." "Yes, I think the boys are going to be surprised," declared Jack, as he watched the developing, and removed the plate from the bath just at the right time and put it in another tray. After fixing the image and washing the plate well with several waters, having everything convenient to his hand, he examined the plate carefully by the white light, which could do it no harm, and suddenly said in a tone of the greatest astonishment: "My word, Billy, we are going to surprise somebody and no mistake. You don't know everything that is on this plate." "Well, what is it?" Billy and Percival both asked, being greatly excited by Jack's impressive tone. "I'll show you shortly. I am going to make an enlargement of this so that you will have no trouble in seeing just what I see." "Yes, but Jack, can't you show us?" asked Percival with some impatience. "Must you make a secret of it?" "For a little while, Dick," laughed Jack; "but you won't say anything when I show you the enlargement. You will be perfectly satisfied at having waited a little." "All right," muttered both boys. Jack had all the appliances for making an enlargement, and he could do it as well by night as in daylight, having flash powders which would give an instant's light or be continued for as long as he chose, together with plates, paper and everything convenient. The boys watched him at work and were greatly interested, now and then catching the sound of the Hilltop boys singing outside, but generally paying little attention to anything except what was going on just around them. In the course of something more than an hour Jack had completed his work and showed a much larger print of Billy's pinhole photograph than was possible from the original plate, and also a print from the latter. "Now look at these two, first the little one and then the big," he said, "and tell me what is the difference." "You've got an eight by ten, and mine is less than a four by five," answered Billy. "The figures are naturally four times as large. By Jinks! you have a handsome picture, Jack." "Yes, but tell me what you see on one that you don't see on the other. You should see it on both, of course, but it stands out stronger in the enlargement, as it naturally would." Percival looked at the larger picture and said: "Hello! there is a man looking out from among the rocks on the ledge. Did you know he was there, Billy?" "No, I did not. He must have kept pretty still, for that was a long time exposure. He is not as strong as the objects around him, however. How is that, Jack? H'm! I know. He came in after I had started to take the scene." "That's it, and he kept still because he wanted to hear what you boys were talking about, and did not wish to be discovered himself. Do you see him on the smaller print, Billy?" "Yes, now, but I did not at first. Golly! but you have eyes, Jack! You saw this on the plate?" "Yes, and that is why I wished to get the enlargement. Do you recognize the man, boys?" "I never saw him," said Percival, "but if that is not the man with the white mustache and the black eyebrows I am very much mistaken. My! but how he glares!" "It is the man with the white mustache," said Jack. "I have reason to recognize him. That is the bank robber. He is glaring, as you say, Dick. There was something on his mind. What do you suppose it was?" "I am sure I don't know. Do you suppose he was afraid we might find his hiding place. By Jove! we found the burglars' tools, Jack, and now you have found the burglar himself on Billy's plate." "Yes, and you said there would not be anything on it," laughed the good-natured fellow. "Why, no, Billy, I did not altogether say----" "No, you didn't say it, but you intimated it just the same. Well, my pinhole camera has turned out all right, hasn't it?" "Yes, and I must say that I am surprised." "The rock fell down shortly after we had gone inside the cave, Billy?" asked Jack. "Yes. None of us had any suspicion that such a thing would happen, and we were very anxious about you. I don't see now why it should have happened. We have not had any rains to loosen things." "I will tell you how it happened," said Jack earnestly. "Your man here, with his fierce eyes, like those of a hunted wild beast, was plotting our death when he shoved down that boulder, for it was he who shoved it down I am certain. He probably did not know of the other exit and imagined that we would be imprisoned with no way of getting out." "He looks as if he wished you and everybody else dead," said Billy. "He has a face to make you have bad dreams. Well, we have proved two things to-day." "That your pinhole camera is all right," said Percival, "and that this mysterious man with the white mustache is still in the neighborhood. H'm! I should think he would avoid it." "I hoped he might," said Jack musingly. "It is clear enough from this print that he did not mean any good to you and me, Dick." "Yes, and as Billy says, his face is one to haunt you. Well, if he is hanging around these woods we don't care to make any more exploring trips until we are sure he is out of them. What are you going to do with the big print, Jack?" "Keep it if the man makes any more trouble," said Jack shortly. "It will be of use to detectives in identifying him." "I suppose I had better not show my print?" said Billy questioningly. "You would rather I would not? I don't know what you are to this fellow, Jack, and I don't want to know. You say he is not your father, and that is enough for me." "No, he is not," said Jack, "and just now I don't care to say any more about it. Show your plate if you want to convince the boys that your odd sort of camera can do something. They may not notice the man on it. They will probably simply notice the trees and rocks, which are very sharp and distinct." "All right," said Billy. "I would like to show it to those wiseacres just to convince them that the thing was all right, and to get the laugh on them." "Revenge is sweet," laughed Percival. "Of course it is," said Billy, "but I guess we fellows had better get to bed or the doctor will be giving us fits. Is there time to show this picture to the fellows?" "I should think so," replied Jack. "I will keep the enlargement in case I need it, and I would rather you did not say anything about it to the boys." "Of course not!" said Billy promptly. Billy and Percival now took their leave and Jack put away his developing outfit, locked the enlargement in his bureau drawer and turned on the lights and threw aside the curtains, so that any one in any of the other cottages or in the Academy could see him. "Still in the neighborhood," he muttered, as he sat by the window and looked out on the calm Autumn night. "I wish he would leave it. I am not safe as long as he remains. At any rate, I shall do my duty as I have always done it, no matter what happens." An hour later Jack went to bed, and no one who saw him at that time would have imagined that anything was on his mind, his face was so calm and tranquil. CHAPTER XXI A PUZZLING AFFAIR The mysterious stranger with the white mustache and dark hair who had caused so much speculation among the Hilltop boys had not been seen since the second attempt to rob the Riverton bank and none of those most interested knew where he was. His confederate, badly wounded at the time, was in jail and likely to remain there for some time, but of his principal nothing was known. He had made his escape and had probably left the region for good and all, being satisfied that a third attempt to get at the money of the bank would be fatal. The Hilltop boys were anxious to know what relation he bore to Jack Sheldon, who, it will be remembered, had been visibly agitated when he was first mentioned but as the boy did not seem inclined to enlighten them they did not ask him any more questions. Herring avoided Jack after the stirring scene in the barn but neglected no opportunity to speak ill or slightingly of the boy to his cronies and to Jack's friends when he dared. There were not many of these occasions, however, for the first time that he spoke slurringly of Jack to Billy Manners, that fun-loving young gentleman said hotly: "Look here, Herring, I'll pickle you if I hear you talk that way of Jack Sheldon again. A word to the wise is sufficient." Billy was not as big nor as strong as Jack but there was a determination in his look which Herring did not care to see there nor to provoke and he laughed carelessly and retorted: "Oh, well, you don't need to get mad about it. I was only joking about it." "I don't see anything funny in any such jokes," returned Billy, "and I would advise you to take them to a market where they are better appreciated than they are here." "Ah, you think Sheldon is a lot," sneered Herring, "but he isn't any better than any one else." "Maybe not. It depends who the any one else is," laughed Billy. From the words that the bully dropped to his associates, however, it was clear that he meant mischief to Jack and would pay off his supposed debts as soon as opportunity offered and there was the least chance of detection. There were examinations coming on and Jack was getting ready for them, devoting all of his spare time to studying so that he would be able to pass with the greatest credit to himself and his instructors. The next number of the Hilltop _Gazette_ would give the results of the examination but there was other matter to be prepared for it, the standings being the last matter to go in. On the afternoon before the examinations were to begin Jack borrowed Percival's runabout and set out for Riverton with the copy for the school paper and something he had written for the weekly _News_, furnishing something now every week. It was rather late when he started, as he had been busy up to the last moment and when he left the office after seeing Mr. Brooke and looking over the matter already set up it was growing dark, the sun being already behind the hills. He would be back in time for supper, however, and as he had his lights in good order he had no fear of being out after dark. He had left the town and was about to put on speed so as to carry him easily up a hill just ahead of him when he saw a man suddenly come around a turn just ahead of him. He slacked up in an instant and then heard a sharp whistle behind him and at the next moment heard rapid footsteps, the man in front suddenly running toward him. Before he was aware some one had sprung over the back of the car and had thrown a pair of strong arms around him. Then the man in front ran up, jumped in and took the steering wheel, quickly backing the car and turning into a narrow lane a few rods behind. Jack, meanwhile, had been blindfolded and gagged by the man who had seized him from behind and had no idea where he was going. He was held tight as well and could not move, his captor being evidently a very powerful man. "I'd like to know what this means, so close to town," he thought. "If it were two or three miles out I should not wonder and yet I have never been molested as long as I have been driving the car, or was I when I carried fruit and returned with money in my pocket." By this time it was dark but if it had not been it would have made little difference to Jack with a heavy bandage over his eyes which shut out all light. They were running on the level, as he knew by the motion but at length they began to ascend a considerable rise, the speed being increased and the car being higher in front. The boy was utterly in the dark as to the identity of his captors or their intentions and could not hazard a guess on either point. If robbery were intended why had they not searched him at the start and if they only wanted the car why had they taken him along with them instead of getting rid of him at once? All these things set him to thinking and he had plenty of time for it as the car seemed to have no intention of stopping but kept right on, now up, now down, but all the time at a rapid gait. It must have been fully an hour from the time he had been seized when the car began to slow down and then stopped but where he was Jack could not, of course, have any idea. "I wonder if this is a hazing joke of some of the fellows?" he asked himself. "Billy Manners would be up to just such a trick. Perhaps we are at the Academy now and they are ready to have a great laugh at my expense. I don't see what else it could be." There was no sound to be heard, however, as there would be if they were near the Academy and Jack was as much puzzled as ever when he was lifted out of the car and taken somewhere, where he could not tell. He was placed upon a bench but whether it were out of doors or in he had no notion. He knew no more when the bandage was taken off his eyes and the gag removed, for all was as dark as pitch, the car either having been taken away or the lights put out, for he could see nothing. "You set quiet," some one said to him. "We ain't going to hurt you but you're goin' to stay with us for a spell." "Who are you and where am I and what are you going to do?" Jack asked, being unable to see any one. "Never mind askin' questions," returned the other. "We ain't goin' to hurt you, that's all, an' you needn't be afraid o' nothing." "Yes, but why have I been brought here and where am I anyhow?" There was no answer and Jack suddenly became aware that he was alone. He had not been bound and now he arose, felt in his pockets and presently produced matches, not having carried his pocket flashlight with him. He struck a match and looked around him, finding that he was in a roughly finished room like a shop or a workman's shack, with two barred windows on one side and a closed door opposite, there being a straight ladder reaching to some place above, probably the sleeping quarters of the men who worked here. This much he saw before the match burned out, seeing no one and hearing not a sound. He tried the door and found it locked, the shutters of the windows being fastened on the outside for he could not open them. "It is clear enough that I am a prisoner here," he mused, "but for what purpose?" There seemed to be no answer to the question and he gave up trying to find one but sat down and waited for somebody to return. CHAPTER XXII LIGHT ON THE SUBJECT Jack had been sitting in the dark for several minutes when he heard a sound from the loft overhead. Some one was stirring, there was a yawn, then a step on the floor and then some one said impatiently: "Hello, down there! Can't you show a light? Where are you all, anyway, and what time is it?" The boy started for he knew that voice and had hoped that he would never again hear it. It was that of the man with the white mustache and the dark hair and eyebrows whom he had met in the woods near the foot of the hill leading from the Academy. He said nothing and then he heard steps moving about in the loft and the man spoke again. "I'll fall down there before I know it. There's a hole somewhere, but where is it? Hello, there! can't you show a light? Isn't there anyone about? Where have you all gone?" Then he heard a footstep on the ladder and knew that the man was coming down, grumbling as before. "What's that man doing here?" he thought. "I had hoped I would never see him again. If he is not careful he will be taken and spend more of his time in prison." Then a thought occurred to him and he said quietly: "Wait a moment and I will give you a light." There was a startled exclamation and then the man asked: "Who is that? Is that you, John Sheldon?" "Yes, it is I." "What are you doing here? Have you come to hunt me down?" "No, I am a prisoner but I don't know who brought me here. I have not come to hunt you down. I did not know that you were anywhere about and I don't know where I am myself." Then the boy lighted a match and looked around him, seeing an old rusty tin candlestick with the butt of a candle in it on a shelf under one of the windows. He lighted this and the man came forward, looked fixedly in his face and said: "You say you are a prisoner here? How did that happen?" "I was run away with by two men who jumped into the runabout I was driving when I stopped but I don't know who they are nor why they did it. Why do you remain in this neighborhood? Don't you know it's dangerous to be so near the place where----" "You had a runabout? Yours?" "No, a friend's. I was down at Riverton on business and was just going back to the Academy." "Where is it? Is it a fast one?" "Yes, but----" "You are right about the danger of remaining here but we are not as near the place as you think. This place must be miles away and nowhere near the river. It is safe enough but if I had a good car and a fair start I could----" There was a step outside and then the turning of a key in a lock and the door was opened. Two men were outside, both rough looking fellows whom Jack had not seen before and one of them now said: "Waitin' for your supper? Hungry, are you? Well, we'll fix up something in a jiffy and then you can go to bed as soon as you like. Hello! there wasn't two of you, was there?" "What are you keeping the boy here for?" asked the man with Jack. "I donno, some business of keeping him away from school till arter examinations, I guess, but I don't see why that should worry him. I never was anxious to go to school myself and if anybody had said I shouldn't it wouldn't have bothered me none," with a hoarse laugh. "Keep me away from school till after examination?" thought Jack. "Oh, I see! This is a plot of some of the Hilltop boys, Herring and his set, no doubt. No one else would do it." "Where have Byke and Tyke gone?" asked the man. "To take back a car. We don't want it." "Ha! I might have wanted it myself," muttered the other. "Why didn't they let me know?" "Couldn't tell you. Friend of theirs, hey? Well, they'll come back after a bit. Folks don't like to have other fellows' autos with 'em. It ain't allus safe." "No, but I could have taken it back as well as they could and I wanted to go that way besides." "Well, we come to get supper for the boy and to see that he didn't get away. If you want to go it ain't nothin' to us as I know." One of the men now unfastened one of the windows while the other went outside where there was a rusty little cook stove and began to make a fire. Then the other got some bacon and a half dozen potatoes from a locker under the shelf, produced a greasy frying-pan from a dusty corner and went outside to get the supper. "I would have taken the car and got away," muttered the strange man. "This is far enough away but it might not be safe for all that and the sooner I get away the better." "The car will be missed and advertised," replied Jack, "and you would be taken. Where were you going?" "Out West somewhere. It is not safe around here nowadays." "If you had lived a decent life it would have been safe for you anywhere, George Williamson," said Jack. "Sh! not a word! they don't know me and I don't want them to," cautioned the man, looking anxiously about him. "What you say may be true but it's too late now. Don't you feel sorry for your father, Jack?" "You are not my father and I wish that neither my mother nor I had ever seen you. You made her life miserable, wasted the money my father had left her, ill-treated and abused her and then showed yourself what you were, a burglar and thief! Is it any wonder that my mother should want to take her first husband's name again when we moved as far away as we could from the scene of your evil deeds?" "Maybe not," said the other carelessly. "Have you any money, Jack? I would like to have some to get me to the nearest seaport town." "You said you were going west." "Well, to some good and far away town, then. That will do." "I have very little money with me but I could get it if I thought you would go away never to see my mother again. There is little use in asking you to promise for you have promised before." "I saw you this time only by accident, Jack," replied the man. "Never mind. I will go so far away this time that you will never see me. So you would help me, would you?" with an odd smile. "Only to keep you away from my mother," Jack answered. "You never did me any good and I have no reason to like you. If I helped you it would be for my mother's sake alone." "And you are a prisoner here, so that you will not be able to pass the examinations?" asked the other carelessly. "Yes, so it seems, but I do not mean to be kept here." "You can get away now, Jack, if you wish it," said the other in a low tone. "I'll do that much for you for all that you don't do things for me on my own account. Do you wish to leave here?" "Yes, I do." "Then I will help you get away, will go with you till everything is safe. Maybe I did not treat your mother right, Jack. Never mind that now. I can help you and I will. Come, there is no time like the present." The two stepped to the door when one of the rough fellows said, putting himself in the way: "Here, Mister, you can go if you like but not the boy. We've got orders to keep him here." "And I have a notion to take him away with me and if you oppose me it will be the worst for you." The man attempted to argue the point and was promptly knocked down. CHAPTER XXIII ON THE WAY HOME Jack and the stranger flew out of the house, the latter saying in a low tone: "Follow me! I know the way out of this tangle better than you do." There was a rough road in front of the shack but lost itself in the woods in one direction and wandered off among the mountains in another so that it was necessary for one to know all its changes and branches to keep from getting lost. The man who had been knocked down raised a shout and he and his companion set off in pursuit of Jack. His guide ran swiftly but Jack was a good runner and kept up with him, the two pursuers being speedily left behind. They at length came out into a more open part of the road and here the moon shone bright and gave them all the light they needed. "Keep on this way for a time," said Jack's guide, "and we will be far enough away to elude those scamps. I don't think they care to keep up the race long in any event." They hurried on although at a less swift pace for ten minutes and then, neither seeing nor hearing any sign of pursuit, went less rapidly. "We can slow up a bit again in a few minutes," said the stranger. "It is a good distance from your place, I take it and you will need some time to reach it. Perhaps you can get a conveyance but the country is not very thickly settled about here." At last, after going at a fast walk for some little time they came out into an open space where the moon shone brightly and there was an extensive view of the country. In the distance Jack could see the river flowing on majestically in the moonlight between the towering hills which here and there cast deep shadows, here the channel being quite narrow and again widening into broad lakes where all was bright. They were at a considerable height and, pausing for some moments and looking down upon the river he at length began to recognize certain points and said to his guide: "I think I know where I am but it is some distance still to go where I wish to go. I can take a road through the mountain passes and reach home by daylight." "Home?" questioned the other. "Well, I mean the Academy. I call it home while I am there." "It is cold and it will be colder when you get into the passes where it is dark." "Yes, but I can walk fast. I know many of these passes and I can take short cuts. You will not wish to return to the river?" "No, but come on, I am in haste." They hurried on, descending a little and passed through some woods where they could not see the river. When they came in sight of it again the man said: "Go on and rejoin your comrades. I will go another way. You can get back from here?" "Yes, without much trouble. Where are you going?" "Away, where you will never see me again!" and the man suddenly darted down a forest path. "I hope he will do better," said Jack to himself, "but I don't know. He says he has tried to do so before but he never succeeded. I hope he will do so this time but I do not want to see him again. I cannot get over my past recollections." He took another path and at length came to a pass through the hills which would cut off a considerable distance provided he did not lose his way by taking a wrong turn and he decided to hazard it. Overhead there were great round peaks about which the clouds always seemed to hover, about him were giant trees which seemed to be hundreds of years old and as he walked on the shadows stretched deep and mysterious before him so that he might well pause for fear of going astray or of meeting unwelcome companions. In a short time he came out upon a level stretch of ground whence he could easily see how the land lay and pick out a path back to the river and the nearest town to Hilltop. He set out at a good walk and reached a village below the station at the foot of the hill whence he could make his way across at about eight o'clock in the morning. "I can get to the Academy in time for school," he said to himself, "and give somebody a surprise. I'd like to know what they are thinking of now but I know what they will think when they see me walk in to take my examinations." He had calculated the time correctly for as he reached the top of the hill in front of the Academy and saw the well-known buildings stretching out before him he heard the warning bell which told him he must hasten. The boys were already indoors and Jack hurried on, entered and went to the great schoolroom, taking his seat and saying quietly while all the boys looked at him in astonishment: "I am sorry to have been detained, sir but I trust that I am in here in time for the first examination." Then, although it was against the rules, the majority of the boys raised a joyous shout and gave three hearty cheers. CHAPTER XXIV HOW IT ALL CAME OUT There had been a good deal of anxiety the night before when Jack had failed to return and all sorts of reasons were assigned for his absence. Then late at night Dick's car was returned by a constable who said he had found it in the road just outside the town of Riverton and, recognizing it and knowing that there had been inquiries made about it, had brought it back. This did not explain Jack's absence, however, and many telephone messages were sent to various parts of the town, enquiring for him. Mr. Brooke reported his having been to the office and others remembered having seen him but where he had gone and why the car had been abandoned were puzzles that no one could solve. When Jack himself appeared at the last moment and announced that he was ready to begin his examinations there was a general rejoicing but the mystery was as deep as ever for the boy would not answer any questions at the time, merely repeating that he had been detained but was glad that he was no later. Then he set to work upon the first of his papers and no one disturbed him for two hours when he went outside and said to Percival who had finished his paper: "Somebody did not want me to take this examination but I am taking it and that is all there is to say about it." "But where have you been, Jack?" "Up in the hills, miles away from here. I stayed with a hermit who might have been Rip Van Winkle himself during a part of the night and set out for Hilltop some time after sunrise, just making it in time." "Yes, but Jack, what did you do it for?" and Dick showed that he was greatly puzzled as well as distressed. "Didn't you know that the boys would be worried?" "I am not so fond of going off miles away by myself and then walking back as to do a thing of that sort willingly, Dick," laughed Jack. "I was run away with, abducted, kept a prisoner, released by a man who has been a prisoner himself, walked for miles through the mountain passes, stayed with a hermit and his dog and finally got back here just in time. Did you get your car?" "Yes, and that's what worried us for we did not know what had become of you. Tell me all about it?" "There is not time," with a laugh, "but I will tell you some things. You remember the man with the white mustache?" "Yes, of course." "He was up in the mountains where my captors took me and it was he who got me free and afterward left me, going I know not where. I told you I would tell you who he is one day." "Yes, so you did but if you don't like to----" "I don't mind telling you, Dick. The man is my stepfather and you can easily see why I was agitated when I heard that he was about and then when I met him. He has been in prison for a number of years and then my mother was happy, safe and comfortable. His being free again made me worry for I hoped that he never would trouble us again." "So you would." "Now he has gone I don't know where and we need not say any more or think any more about him." "But who ran off with you, Jack, and why?" "Men I had never seen before. They were hired by some one who does not want me to take the examinations and so lose my standing in school. It does not really matter who they are, Dick." "It does matter to me, Jack," said Percival, excitedly, "for if I find out who they are they will be glad enough to leave the school themselves. Have you no idea, Jack?" "Oh, I have an idea, of course, but suspicion is not proof as I told you once before so suppose we let it pass." "Well, just as you like but that is not what I should do," returned Dick, evidently disappointed. "But as I am the person most interested and as that is the way I feel about it, why not let it go at that?" and Jack smiled. "Oh, very well, just as you like," and no more was said. Dick told the other boys what Jack had told him of his adventures and many of them were for making an investigation but as Dick told them that their friend did not care for this they concluded to let the matter drop and there it rested. Herring and Merritt and others were suspected but nothing was said to them and they kept away from Jack and his particular friends and it was not long before this affair was forgotten. The examinations continued and at the end of them when the reports were made, Jack was found to have passed the highest of any one in his class in all but two of his studies and within one or two of first place in the others. This would give him a good lead for the rest of the term and help him in the final examinations at the end of the school year, his standing having greatly improved since he had come to the Academy. "You have done well, old chap," said Billy. Manners, "and I want to see you do better yet the next time." "I am going to try to at any rate, Billy," said Jack. "Old Bull is getting very cranky these days," Billy added. "He is getting to be more of a martinet than ever and would keep us drilling from morning till night if he had his way. I fancy he thinks this is another West Point." "Perhaps he remembers how you fooled him with the mad dog alarm," laughed Jack. "He did not know it at the time or I would have been put on guard duty all night. Anyhow, there will be trouble if he keeps up this everlasting drilling. I don't believe the doctor cares for it but the doctor is a good old fellow and never says anything about what any of his instructors does. He is as mild mannered as an old woman." "How did you come out yourself in your examinations?" Jack asked. "Pretty good, but I like fun too much to do any overtime in study. Maybe I would have done better but for that." "Perhaps you would but I would rather have you full of fun than going about grumbling and complaining against everybody as some of the boys here are in the habit of doing." "Yes, I know who you mean and they did not pass very high either. If they are not more studious for the rest of this term they will be told to go somewhere else at the end of it." The work began again in a short time and Jack devoted himself as sedulously to his work as before, while, at the same time, he indulged in all the sports that boys like best and excelled in them, making more friends every day and making those he had already made more and more fond of him. Percival stood high in his classes as usual for, as he said, he was looking for Jack to catch up with him and, therefore, wanted to keep as far ahead as possible and to make himself stronger to meet his friend when the latter should have reached his rank. As Billy Manners had said, there seemed to be trouble brewing in the Academy, not only on account of Colonel Bull but for other reasons and those who were in the way of observing the signs closely in such institutions were of the opinion that the clouds would not be long in breaking. Those who have been interested in the careers of Jack Sheldon and his friends at the Academy thus far may find something more of this in the next volume which is called "The Hilltop Boys in Camp," wherein are told many things now only hinted at. "It is my opinion that if troubles do arise we will find Jack taking as strong a part for the right as he always has," said Dick to Harry and Arthur one day when they were talking of these matters. "Then if we happen to be in the wrong he will go against us, do you mean?" Harry asked. "I should not be surprised." "Yes, but how do you know we will be in the wrong?" "I don't; we must wait and see." THE END 
33926	----	[Illustration: "ALLOW ME TO PRESENT MY FRIEND, DICK HAMILTON." _Page_ 175. _Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days._] DICK HAMILTON'S CADET DAYS OR THE HANDICAP OF A MILLIONAIRE'S SON BY HOWARD R. GARIS AUTHOR OF "DICK HAMILTON'S FORTUNE," "FROM OFFICE BOY TO REPORTER," "LARRY DEXTER, REPORTER," "LARRY DEXTER'S GREAT SEARCH," ETC. _ILLUSTRATED_ THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING CO. CLEVELAND, O. NEW YORK, N. Y. Copyright, 1910, by GROSSET & DUNLAP _Printed in the United States of America_ by THE COMMERCIAL BOOKBINDING CO. CLEVELAND, O. PREFACE. MY DEAR BOYS: When I had finished the first volume of this series, telling of the doings of Dick Hamilton, the young millionaire, I was in some doubt as to just how you would like it. I hoped that you would be pleased with it, and interested in Dick and his chums, and what they did, but I could not be sure of it. That you did care for it, I am now assured, and I am glad to be able to give you the second volume, relating some of Dick's experiences while at a leading military school. You will recall that, after he had come into possession of his great fortune, by fulfilling certain conditions of his mother's will, there were still other things for him to do; matters that his mother had planned before her death. One of these was to make sure that her son would get a good military training. Dick went to Kentfield Academy, but, to his surprise, he met with a very cold reception from the other cadets. Ray Dutton, not understanding that, in spite of our hero's wealth, he was a fine chap, influenced the other students against Dick, and, for a time, the young millionaire was very lonely in the big school. But he resolved to fight his own battles, and become popular in spite of his wealth. Uncle Ezra brought him bad news, but it was the means of great good luck for Dick, though Grit, the bulldog, seemed to regard the crabbed old man as his master's enemy, and chased him from the school. All this you will find set down in the present volume, and also an account of how Dick was instrumental in locating a long missing soldier, and how, when the society house of the Sacred Pig burned down, without any insurance being in force, Dick, with his wealth, came to the aid of the surprised cadets. Yours sincerely, HOWARD R. GARIS. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. DICK GETS A TELEGRAM 1 II. A CHANGE IN PLANS 14 III. GRIT ROUTS UNCLE EZRA 25 IV. IN WHICH DICK STARTS OFF 35 V. AN ODD CHARACTER 42 VI. THE HAZING 51 VII. DICK THINKS HE HAS A CLUE 62 VIII. DICK GETS A FALL 72 IX. WHO FIRED THE GUN 78 X. DICK HAS A FIGHT 85 XI. DICK GIVES A SPREAD 92 XII. AN ANGRY FARMER 100 XIII. A NARROW ESCAPE 108 XIV. CAPTAIN HANDLEE'S VISIT 117 XV. ON THE GRIDIRON 121 XVI. FOR THE PRIZE TROOP 128 XVII. DICK IN TROUBLE 135 XVIII. A DISMAL CHRISTMAS 144 XIX. THE MARKSMAN'S MEDAL 152 XX. DICK DOESN'T TELL 159 XXI. THE FANCY DRESS BALL 170 XXII. THE CHALLENGE 181 XXIII. A WINTER MARCH 190 XXIV. THE RESCUE OF DUTTON 199 XXV. OFF TO CAMP 208 XXVI. THE SHAM BATTLE 215 XXVII. DICK WINS THE CONTEST 228 XXVIII. UNCLE EZRA AT KENTFIELD 235 XXIX. DICK'S GREAT RUN 243 XXX. A BROADSWORD COMBAT 251 XXXI. DICK WRITES A CHECK--CONCLUSION 261 DICK HAMILTON'S CADET DAYS CHAPTER I DICK GETS A TELEGRAM "Hi boys! Here goes for a double summersault!" "Bet you don't do it, Frank." "You watch." "Every time you try it you come down on your back," added another lad of the group of those who were watching one of their companions poised on the end of a spring-board. "Well, this time I'm going to do it just like that circus chap did," and Frank Bender, who had an ambition to become an acrobat, raised his hands above his head and crouched for a spring. "If you do it I'll follow," said another boy, clad in a bright red bathing suit. "Good for you, Dick!" exclaimed Walter Mead. "Don't let Frank stump you." "Here I go!" cried Frank, and, a moment later, he sprang from the spring-board, leaped high into the air, and, turning over twice, came down in true diver style, his hands cleaving the water beneath which he disappeared. "Good!" cried the boys on the shore. "I didn't think he'd do it," remarked "Bricktop" Norton, so called from his shock of red hair. "Me either," added Fred Murdock. "Now it's up to you, Dick." "That's right." Dick Hamilton rose from a log on which he was sitting. He was a tall, clean-cut chap, straight as an arrow, with an easy grace about him, and it needed but a glance to show that he was of athletic build. His red bathing suit, from which protruded bronzed arms and legs, was particularly becoming to him. "There--let's--see--you--do--that!" spluttered Frank, as he came up, some distance from where he had gone down. He shook his head to rid his eyes and ears of water, and struck out for shore. "Stay there!" called Dick. "I'll swim out farther than you did." "Dick's cutting out some work for himself," remarked Bricktop, in a low tone to Bill Johnson. "Frank's a dandy swimmer." "Yes, but Dick Hamilton usually does what he sets out to do," replied Bill. "There he goes." Dick walked to the end of the spring-board. He teetered up and down on it two or three times, testing the balance of the long plank. Then he took a few steps backward, poised for an instant, and ran forward. "There he goes!" called Walter. Like a rubber ball Dick Hamilton arose in the air. He curled himself up into a lump as he leaped, and then, to the surprise of his companions, he turned over not twice, but three times ere he struck the water, which closed up over his feet as they disappeared. "Well--wouldn't that sizzle your side combs!" cried Bricktop. "Three times!" "A triple!" added Walter Mead. "Whoever would think Dick could do it!" "Aw, he's been practicing," called Frank, as he circled about in the water, watching for Dick to come up. "He's been doing it on the sly, and he's kept quiet about it." "Just like Dick," added Bill. "He isn't satisfied to do ordinary stunts." "Well, he's done a good one this time," said Fred Murdock. "Say, isn't he staying under a long time?" There was no sight of the millionaire youth. "Maybe he hit his head on a rock," suggested Bricktop, in some alarm. "That's so," went on Fred. "This place isn't any too deep, and he came down hard." "Maybe we'd better go in after him," remarked Walter. "Dive down!" called Bill to Frank. The boys were becoming frightened. Not a ripple, save the little waves made by Frank, as he stood upright, treading water, disturbed the expanse of the swimming hole. There was no sign of Dick Hamilton. Frank prepared for a dive, when, suddenly, at some distance from shore something shot up through the water. It was the hand and arm of a boy. An instant later his head and shoulders popped into view. "There he is!" cried Walter. "It's about time he came up," said Bill, somewhat sharply, for Dick's long under-water swim had frightened the boys. "How's that, fellows?" asked Dick, as he shook the water from his face, and struck out for shore. "You win!" cried Frank, "but please don't give us heart disease again." "Why; what's the matter?" "We'd thought you'd struck on a stone and weren't going to come up again." "No danger of that," answered Dick, with a laugh. "I'm having too much fun at camp here, to stay down there. Did I make a good dive?" "Did you? Say, you've got us all beat to a pig's whisper on Fourth of July," admitted Bricktop. "How'd you do it?" "Yes, I wish you'd show me," added Frank. "You must have been practicing it." "I have," admitted Dick. "It's easy when you know how. After you do a double summersault, all you have to do--is to make another one, making three in all, and you can see that I had nothing concealed up my sleeve, and----" "And you did it without the aid of a net," added Fred, after the fashion of the ringmaster in a circus announcing some marvelous feat. "I'm going to try it," said Frank, as he clambered out on the bank. "No, I think we've been in the water long enough this morning," said Dick. "Besides it's most grub time. I don't know how you feel about it, but I think I could nibble at a bit of roast chicken, which I happen to know that our esteemed cook, Hannibal Cæsar Erastus Jones, has in the oven." "Ah! Um!" murmured Bill Johnson. "That's it! Make a noise like a lunch-grabber!" objected Fred. "I should think you'd be ashamed of yourself." "Oh, listen to the professor at the breakfast table!" cried Bill with a laugh. "I don't s'pose you're going to nibble at any; art thou, Reginald?" "Well, you just watch him," advised Fred. "He's got me beat, all right." "Come on!" cried Dick suddenly. "First fellow at the dining tent gets most of the white meat!" He started off at a fast clip, the others sprinting after him, and he would have won, but that he stubbed his bare toe on a stone, and had to finish the rest of the distance on one leg, holding the injured member in his hands, making, the while, wry faces at the pain. Bill Johnson won the impromptu race. "Hurt much?" asked Walter, as Dick limped up. "Like sin. Say, Hannibal Cæsar Erastus Jones, will you do me a favor?" he asked, as the colored cook, who did the camp cooking, came from his tent. "Ob co'se, Massa Dick. What am it?" "Just go back there in the woods and bring me the pieces of that stone I broke with my toe. I want 'em for souveniers." "Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho! Massa Dick, doan yo' go to playin' no tricks on me! Not jest at de present auspicious moment," and the colored man grinned broadly, showing a big expanse of white teeth, in an area of blackness. "Why not, Rastus?" "'Case as how de chicken am all done, an' if it ain't partook of immejeet----" "Never mind those souveniers," said Dick. "We'll be with you in the twinkling of a flea's left hand eyelash," and he hopped into his tent, and began to dress, an example followed by the other boys. "Humph!" murmured Hannibal Cæsar Erastus Jones, as he stood in the midst of the camp, rapidly blinking his eyes. "Fust I eber knowed a flea had a eyelash. But Massa Dick, he must know, 'case he's po'ful smart. But I 'spects I'd better git ready to serb up de grub, as dey calls it, 'case dey's allers pow'ful hungry when dey's been in swimmin'. Come t' t'ink ob it, dough, dey's most allers ready t' eat." And, chuckling to himself, Hannibal started toward the cook tent. It did not take the boys long to dress, and as they emerged from the tents, their faces glowing with health, and bronzed from their life in the open, they were as fine a group of lads as you would meet in a day's travel, or, maybe a day and a half. They were all guests of Dick Hamilton, who, as had been his custom for several years past, had taken a crowd of his chums off to camp on the shores of Lake Dunkirk, a large body of water near Hamilton Corners, where Dick lived. "Ah! Um! Smell that chicken!" murmured Bill Johnson, as he lifted his nose high in the air. "There you go again! Displaying your lack of manners!" objected Fred. "Why don't you wait in patience and dignity, as I do." "Well, wouldn't that melt your collar button!" remarked Bricktop. "Where's the glass case they took you out of, Fred?" "Manners?" asked Dick, as he approached Fred from the side. "Excuse me, but there's something sticking out there." As he spoke he slyly extended his foot, and, a moment later Fred measured his length on the carpet of soft, pine needles of the woods. "Goodness me! Did you fall?" asked Dick, as he looked down, in apparent surprise at his chum. "How careless of you." "Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed Bill. "Come here, Fred, and I'll pick you up." Fred arose, smiling rather sheepishly, but not at all angry. He brushed off his clothes, and joined in the laugh that followed. "It's your turn next," observed the young millionaire. "I'll have to keep my weather eye open, Fred." "All right," said the lad who had been tripped. "Well, Hannibal--Alphabet--Jones; art ready for the gathering of the clans who hunger after the flesh-pots of Egypt?" asked Dick. "All ready, Massa Dick," replied the colored cook. "Come on." "First down! One wish-bone to gain!" called Walter Mead, as he took his place at the table set under the tent fly. For the next five minutes the boys were so busy eating the roast chicken, corn bread and other good things that Hannibal-and-the-rest-of-it-Jones, with his knowledge of Southern cookery had provided, that they said not a word. Then, with a long-drawn sigh of satisfaction, Bill observed: "There certainly is nothing like a good meal." "Unless it's two," added Bricktop. "I didn't much fancy Dick's plan of taking a professional cook along when we came to camp this year, because it used to be fun to do it ourselves, but our cooking was never like this." "Never, never, never!" exclaimed Fred. "I'll have a little more chicken, if you don't mind, Dick." "Certainly not. There's plenty." "Yes, this is better than having to do it ourselves," said Frank Bender, as he finished polishing off a juicy leg. "No dishes to wash, nothing to bother with after you're through, only have a good time. Dick, you're a brick!" "As long as I'm not a gold one, it's all right," said the millionaire's son. "But I thought you'd agree with me that it was best to take a cook along." "It sure is all to the pancake batter," observed Bricktop. "Well, I don't mind if I do have a little more of the white meat, if you insist," he added, though no one had asked him to pass his plate. Dick laughed as he helped his chum to some choice bits. Matters were moving more slowly, now that the first edge of hunger was dulled, and the boys were taking occasional stops to make remarks. "What's the program for this afternoon?" asked Walter, as he drained his coffee cup. "Are we going fishing?" "Whatever you say," replied Dick, who, like a true host, always consulted the wishes of his guests. "We can fish, take a walk, or go out in the motor boat." "The motor boat for mine," said Bill. "I want to get on a pile of cushions and take a snooze." "Well, wouldn't that give you the nightmare!" came from Bricktop. "You're getting lazier every day, Bill." "Help yourself," spoke the sleepy youth, as he slumped from the table and stretched out under a tree. "I guess a trip in the motor boat would suit us all best," observed Dick. "Hannibal 'Rastus, just fill up the gasolene tank, will you?" "Oh, why wasn't I born rich instead of handsome," murmured Bricktop, who never would have taken a prize in a beauty show. "But my fatal gift of----" "Cut it out!" cried Walter, throwing a pine cone with such good aim, that it went right into Bricktop's open mouth. "Oh! Ah! Ug! Blug! Chug! Hum!" spluttered the discomfitted one. "Who threw that?" he demanded, when he could speak. Nobody answered, and, feeling in no mood to get up and chastise Walter, whose sly grin proclaimed him the culprit, Bricktop stretched out again. "Hark! That sounds like a wagon coming," observed Fred, as he sat up, after a few minutes of silence. "Guess it's the ice man," said Dick, for he had arranged to have a supply left at the camp. He believed in having all the comforts possible when he went into the woods. "Doesn't rumble like an ice wagon," commented Bill. "Sounds more like a load of steel girders," added Walter. At this, Dick arose. He peered through the trees toward a seldom-used wagon road, which ran near the camp. He caught sight of something moving. "It's a wagon, all right," he said, "but it isn't the ice man." A few moments later a remarkable rig hove into sight. It consisted of a rattle-trap of a wagon, loaded with all sorts of scrap iron, and drawn by a horse that looked as if it had escaped from the bone yard. It just crawled along. On the seat was a bright-faced youth, who was doing his best to excite the animal into a speed a little better than that of a snail. He jerked on the reins, called at the horse, and cracked his whip, but all to no purpose. "It's no use!" he exclaimed, as he looked through the trees and caught sight of Dick and his chums. "He's got the pip, or something like that." "Why, hello, Henry," called Dick. "What brings you away off here? There's no scrap around here." "I thought maybe you boys might have had one or two that you'd sell cheap," said the young dealer in old iron, and there was a twinkle in his eyes. "They're all too lazy to fight, except me," observed Bricktop, "and I'm too good." "Stow that!" commanded Fred, making a pass at his chum, who jumped back out of reach. "Aren't you quite a way from home?" asked Dick, as he went up and shook hands with Henry Darby. "Yes, I am. But you see I'm driving around the country, collecting old iron. This is my dull season, and I took my oldest rig, and started off day before yesterday. I'm taking it easy--have to you know, on account of my horse's health. His delicate constitution makes it necessary. There doesn't seem to be much old iron about, and I've got this far, without picking up a full load." "Why don't you give some to your horse. Iron is good for the constitution," said Dick. "I thought of it, but you see all the iron I have is in long pieces and sticks out all sorts of ways. If my horse swallowed any of it he'd have more fine points than he's got now. So I guess I'll keep him on grain." "But you haven't told me why you're away off here in the woods," went on Dick. "Is there any iron about here?" "No, not that I know of. I came to find you." "To find me?" "Yes. I have a telegram for you. I happened to stop in the village back there, and while I was making some inquiries in the post-office, which is also the telegraph station, a message came for you. The operator had no one he could send with it, and, as I happened to know where you were camping, I said I'd take it. He gave me a quarter for bringing it out, and so I've made some profit to-day." "A telegram!" cried Dick. "Why didn't you say so at first? Give it here," and he held out his hand. "I didn't want to scare you," said Henry. "I was breaking the news gently." He handed over the yellow envelope. Dick tore it open, and, as he read the short message, he gave a start. "No bad news I hope," remarked Walter. "No, I guess not," replied Dick slowly. "But I've got to leave for home at once." "Leave for home!" cried his chums. "Yes. This is from dad. It says: 'Dear Dick. Come home as soon as you get this. Important.'" CHAPTER II A CHANGE IN PLANS Following Dick's reading of the telegram there was silence among the campers. They all imagined something had happened to Mr. Hamilton, Dick's father, and they hesitated to give voice to their thoughts. "Well, I'd offer to take you home in my chariot," said Henry Darby, with a suggestion of a smile, "only I know you'd be two days on the road. Though it might be a good thing," he added "for your father would hear us coming long before he could see us, with the way this old iron rattles. I wish some one would invent noiseless scrap iron." "Do you--do you s'pose your father is--is hurt?" asked Walter, finally putting into words what all the others thought. "Not a bit of it," replied Dick, stoutly. "Dad knows me well enough to say right out what he means. He wants me home, for some reason or other, but I don't know what it can be," and he looked at the telegram in a puzzled sort of way, as if the slip of paper would solve the mystery for him. "Maybe--maybe he's lost all his money," suggested Frank "and you've got to give up the camp." "No, I guess there's no danger of dad losing all his money so quickly," relied the young millionaire. "He had plenty when I came away, two weeks ago, and he's got so many investments that he couldn't lose it all at once, even if he tried. No, it's something else. I wonder what it is?" "I s'pose the best way to find out, is to go and ask him, about it," suggested Henry. "That's it," assented Dick. "I could telegraph, but he might be away from home, and wouldn't get it. I guess I'll have to leave camp, fellows." "Then we'll go, too," said Bricktop. "No, there's no need of that. I invited you out for three weeks, and that time isn't up yet. You might as well stay. Hannibal will cook for you, and if I can come back I will. Otherwise you stay here and enjoy yourselves." "We won't enjoy ourselves very much if you leave," said Walter regretfully, and the others echoed his sentiment. "Well, that's a compliment to me," declared Dick, with a smile, "but I guess you'll manage to exist. Now I wonder how I'd better go? Henry, I s'pose I could ride with you to the village, and take a train." "I should advise you to," remarked the young iron merchant. "This nag went to sleep four times coming out, and he's snoring now. No telling what he'll do on the way back. He seems to like life in the woods. I guess he must have been a wild horse once, and he's going back to nature." "He's not very wild now," observed Bricktop, tickling the animal with a switch. "He won't even move." "No, it takes quite a while to get him started," said Henry. "Usually I have to begin the day before, to get him into action. No, Dick, I shouldn't advise you to ride with me." "What's the matter with the motor boat?" asked Frank. "You can go to the village in that." "That's so," agreed Dick. "You fellows can take me over, and bring her back. We'll do it." "Well," remarked Henry, as he began to take in the slack of the reins, preparatory to starting the horse, "I guess I'll be going. I hope you find everything all right at home, Dick." "I guess I will. Probably this has something to do with business matters. But, say, don't you want a bite to eat? We just finished grub, and there's a little that these cannibals didn't stow away." "Well, I do begin to feel the need of something," said the young dealer in old iron. "The crackers and cheese I got in the village weren't very filling." "Tie your horse, and sit down to the table. Hannibal-and-half-a-dozen-other-names will get you something. Ho! Rastus!" called Dick. "No need to tie this horse," said Henry with grim smile. "If I did he'd imagine he was home in the stable, and go so sound to sleep that it would take two days to wake him. I'll just put some oats down in front of him, and, maybe he'll rouse up enough to eat them. That will keep him from taking naps." The youthful iron merchant did this, and, while he was making a bountiful meal from what the colored cook set before him, Dick was preparing to start for home, wondering, meanwhile, why his father had sent for him so suddenly. Those of you who have read the first book of this series entitled "Dick Hamilton's Fortune," will need no introduction to the millionaire youth and his chums. But you boys and girls who have not previously met him, may desire a little introduction. Dick Hamilton was the only son of Mortimer Hamilton, of Hamilton Corners, not far from New York. The town was named after Mr. Hamilton because he was financially interested in many of the industries of the place. He was president of the national bank, owned large woolen mills, a brass foundry, a lumber concern, and was head of a railroad and a trolley line that added much of importance to the place. Mr. Hamilton counted his fortune by the millions, and his son, who had inherited a large sum from his mother, was also the possessor of substantial bank accounts. In the first volume there was told how, on a certain birthday Dick came into control of a large part of his wealth, subject to a peculiar condition of his mother's will. That is, he was to make, inside of a year, a wise and paying investment of some of his funds, under penalty of losing control of his fortune for a time, and having to live with a miserly uncle. This uncle, Ezra Larabee by name, of the town of Dankville, was Mrs. Hamilton's brother. One of the conditions of her will was that Dick should spend a week with his uncle before entering into possession of the money, that he might see what sort of a life he was likely to lead, in case he did not comply with the provisions. Dick had a miserable time at Mr. Larabee's. He was not allowed to have any fun, and his uncle even objected to him walking on the paths, for fear he would disturb the newly-raked gravel. Dick returned home, determined to make a paying investment if only to escape his uncle's clutches. He did make several investments, by buying real estate, some stock in a milk company, and some shares in a gold mine. But they all turned out badly, and, while investigating the mine by means of which he had been swindled, he had, with his chums, some exciting adventures. In Hamilton Corners, dwelt "Hank" Darby, a shiftless sort of man, and his son, Henry, who was as energetic as his father was lazy. Henry started to make money, in a small way, by collecting scrap iron, and selling it, but his shiftless parent nearly brought the business to grief. Dick became interested in Henry's efforts, and, as the young millionaire had plenty of money, he loaned Henry two hundred and fifty dollars, to buy out the iron business of a man who wished to retire. "Hank" Darby, with an exaggerated idea of his own importance, elected himself president of the old iron company, made Dick treasurer, and Henry secretary. Dick gave little thought to the money he had loaned his young friend, but the time came when it was to prove of great benefit to him. One after another his various investments failed, and he saw the time approaching when he must go to live with his miserly uncle. His last venture was to invest five hundred dollars in an airship, the inventor of which hoped to win a government prize, which he promised to divide with Dick. But the airship blew up, and Dick saw his next birthday dawn, without, as he thought, having made his paying investment. Uncle Ezra, who was much opposed to his nephew having so much money, came, according to agreement, to get Dick to take him to Dankville with him. But, at the last moment, something quite unexpected happened and it was found that Dick had, after all, complied with the terms of his mother's will, and he was, therefore, allowed to keep control of his fortune. But, as told in the first volume, there were still other stipulations with which he must comply. Following the events told of in "Dick Hamilton's Fortune," our millionaire hero had completed his course at a local academy. When summer came he took some of his chums off to camp in the woods, and it was there that Henry, who was still in the old iron business, found him. "Well, I guess I'm ready," remarked Dick, as he came from his tent, one of several that formed the camp. "I'll not take any of my things, for I may be able to come back and finish out the vacation." "I certainly hope so," said Bricktop fervently. "Same here," added Walter and the others. By this time Henry had made a good meal, and, as his horse showed some signs of life, he remarked that he thought he would start, before the beast got to sleep again. "Did you gasolene the motor boat, Rastus?" asked Dick of the colored cook. "Yais sah, Massa Dick." "All right. Now see that these poor kids don't get hungry while I'm gone. Let 'em take pieces of pie to bed with 'em, to keep 'em quiet." "Ho! Ho! Massa Dick. Deed an' I will. Pie to bed wif 'em! Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho!" The boys entered the motor boat, leaving Hannibal in charge of camp, and they soon reached the village, whence Dick could take a train for home. "Now, fellows, enjoy yourselves," he called to them, as they watched him board the train at the depot. "I'll come back if I can. Better practice that triple summersault, Frank." "I will. I'll stump you, when you come back." "I wish I didn't have to leave them," thought Dick, as he settled himself in his seat. "I wonder what dad wants of me? But there's no use worrying. I'll be home in about two hours." He exhibited his pass, on which he was traveling, as his father was president of the railroad, and then sat looking at the scenery, vainly wondering, in spite of his efforts not to dwell on it, why he had been summoned home. "Well, Dick," greeted his father, when the young millionaire entered the house. "You got back sooner than I expected." "Yes, dad. I started as soon as I got your message. I hope nothing is the matter." "Nothing serious. The fact is I have to leave for Europe next week----" "For Europe! And are you going to take me?" "No, I'm sorry to say I can't. But I have other plans for you, which I hope you will like. I unexpectedly received a call to England, to settle some large financial matters in which I am interested, and, as I shall have to be gone six months or more I decided to close the house up and let the servants go. As that would make no place for you to stay, unless you boarded, which you might not like, I decided to send for you, and tell you what I propose. The reason I telegraphed for you is that I will be so busy after to-day that I will have no time to attend to anything." "What are you going to do with me?" asked Dick. "You remember," went on Mr. Hamilton, "that in her will, your mother specified, in addition to making a good investment, that you must attend a military academy----" "That's so!" cried Dick. "I'd forgotten about that. Say, when can I go? This beats camp!" "Not so fast," cautioned his father. "There are certain conditions to be fulfilled. Your mother had peculiar ideas regarding money. She wished her son to become a success in spite of it. So she provided, under certain penalties, which you will learn of later, that you were to go to a good military academy to complete your education. "There, as I told you once before, though you may have forgotten it, you are to become popular with the students in spite of your wealth. You are to make your own way without the aid of your millions. And this is no easy matter. While many persons have a false notion of wealth, by far the larger class attach to it only the importance it deserves. A rich lad can, to a certain extent, become popular, but he will never have the real, solid friends that some youth not so well off would win. So you've got to make friends in spite of your money." "That ought to be easy," said Dick, but he was to find it a harder task than he had supposed it would be. "So, as I have to go away, and close up the house," went on Mr. Hamilton, "I have arranged that you are to go to the academy a little ahead of time, about two weeks before the term opens. That will give you a chance to find your way around the place." "Where is it?" "It is the Kentfield Military Academy, located in one of the middle western states, and is near Lake Wagatook. Colonel James Masterly, a friend of mine, is the superintendent, and I have written to him concerning you. He gave me permission to send you on ahead of time, and that is what I propose to do. You will have to get ready to go at the end of this week. I hope you do not object." "Not in the least, dad. We were having lots of fun at camp, but I'll have more fun at Kentfield. Shoulder arms! present arms! Halt! parade rest! Wow! Say, dad, this is the best yet!" "Wait until you've spent a term there," advised his father. "If I don't have to start until the end of the week, I might as well go back to camp," said Dick, when he had calmed down a bit. "Just as you like. From now on I shall be too busy to see much of you, but I will make all arrangements." "All right, dad. I'll go back to camp then. I can get a late train," and Dick went to see what time it left, meanwhile whistling a succession of military airs, from "The Girl I left Behind Me," to "Yankee Doodle." He reached camp late that night, somewhat to the surprise of his chums, and they spent the next few days in crowding in as much pleasure as possible. When it became time for Dick to leave, the others decided to go back home with him, as the three weeks were nearly up. CHAPTER III GRIT ROUTS UNCLE EZRA "There's a man out in the vestibule who wants to see you, Master Dick," said Gibbs, the butler, one evening, a few days before the time of departure to the academy. "Who is it?" "Captain Handlee." "Tell him to come in." Dick knew Captain Handlee as an old soldier, who lived in a tumble-down house on the outskirts of the village. The veteran, escorted by the butler, entered shyly. Dick greeted him kindly, and the old man began almost abruptly: "Did you ever hear that I had a son?" "No, I never knew that. Where is he?" "That is what I want you to help me to find out." "You want me to help you? Why, how can I?" asked Dick. "I don't know that you can. I only hope so. Will you?" "I will do all I can for you, but perhaps you want to see my father," for Dick had an idea that the old man wanted some money for some purpose. "No, I want to see you, Mr. Dick. You see you are going to a military academy, and that is why I think you can help me." "But I don't understand." "Listen, and I will tell you. As you know, I am an old soldier, but few persons around here know that my only son was a soldier, too." "I certainly did not. I never knew that you had a son." "Well, I did, and he was a fine chap, too. He enlisted in the regular army, where I served my time, but for many years I have heard nothing about him." "What happened?" "He was among the missing after his company was sent to quell an uprising among the Indians, out west, many years ago. No word was ever received from him, and I don't know whether he was killed, or taken captive. I never heard anything about him, and now I think you can aid me in locating him." "But how can I?" "By making inquiries at the military academy." "But it is not likely that any one at Kentfield would know of your son." "They might. When your father told me you were going there, he mentioned that Major Franklin Webster, a retired army officer, was in charge of military tactics at the school. Now Major Webster is an old Indian fighter, and I thought that if you asked him, he might be able to get some news of my son. Will you do this for me?" "I will, gladly, but I have not much hope of the result." "Perhaps it will amount to nothing," said the old soldier with a sigh, "but it is the first chance I have had in many years. All my inquiries of the war department resulted in nothing. Perhaps you may have better luck." "I hope so," replied Dick gently. "I will make some inquiries. What is your son's name?" "He was christened William, but his friends in the army called him Corporal Bill." "How would Major Webster know him?" "Oh, easily enough. I have his picture." The veteran drew a faded photograph from his pocket, and held the card so that Dick could see it. "That's him," said the old man proudly. The young millionaire saw the photograph of a youthful soldier in uniform. "Your son would be much older than that now; wouldn't he, Captain Handlee?" "Yes, I suppose so. I think he must have been injured in some way, and forgotten his name. Otherwise he would have written to me. But I know another way in which you could recognize him." "How?" "He was the best shot in his company. He was a sharpshooter, and one of the finest. So if you can get track of a soldier, who is a good shot, that may be my son, Corporal Bill. Will you try?" "I will, Captain, I'll do my best." "God bless you," said the veteran fervently. "And now I'll leave you. I'd let you take this photograph, only it's--it's all I have to remember--my son by," and his voice choked. "I don't believe I'll need that," answered Dick. "I'll speak to Major Webster, and see what I can do." The old soldier, murmuring his thanks, left the house. "Well," mused Dick, as he went to his room, "I'll soon be at Kentfield. It'll be lonesome, at first, I expect, but the cadets will soon arrive. And I'll try to find the captain's son. "I wonder how I'll make out with the cadets? I don't see why I should have any trouble making friends, or becoming popular, no matter if I am a millionaire, and the son of one. Money ought not to make such a difference. Still, as dad says, I may find it a handicap." He looked around the room where he had spent so many pleasant hours. It was an ideal boy's apartment, with everything the most exacting youth could desire. "I think I'll make out all right," Dick mused on. "But if worst comes to worst, I have a plan up my sleeve which I think will work." His eyes sparkled, and it was evident that he had just thought of some scheme. "That ought to do it," he said, speaking half aloud. "If I can't win any other way, I'll try that." "Well, Dick," remarked his father, the next morning, "I suppose you are all ready to go to Kentfield?" "Yes. I've got everything packed. What will be your address on the other side?" "Oh, yes, I must leave you that. Here it is. You can forward me letters in care of my London bankers, and they will see that I get them. I may have to put in some time on the continent. By the way, Dick, I hear that Captain Handlee called to see you last night." "Yes, he wants me to help him locate his missing son," and Dick told his father of the interview with the old soldier. "Poor man," remarked Mr. Hamilton, shaking his head, "I fear there is little hope for him. I once aided him in making some inquiries, but they came to nothing." "Do you know him?" "Oh, yes, I have often aided him, and I would do more for him, but he is too proud to accept charity. He is rather odd at times, and does not remain at any employment long, or I could give him a good place. His whole mind is set on finding his son. If the missing corporal could be located it would be the making of Captain Handlee, for he would settle down then." "I don't suppose I can help him." "No, I'm afraid not. Still, do all you can. It is barely possible that Major Webster, or some of the officers who are stationed at Kentfield, may be able to put you on the track, but I doubt it. Well, I think I'll have to go down to the bank now. I'll see you to-night, and say good-bye in the morning." Not long after Mr. Hamilton had left, and while Dick was in his room, packing some of his belongings, a maid who was new in the house came to inform him that a visitor was in the library. "Who is it?" he asked. "I don't know, but it's someone, Master Dick, who your dog doesn't like, for he's growling something fierce." "I'll come down," said the young millionaire, and he hurried to the library. As he entered a tall, thin man, with a curious little bunch of whiskers on his chin, arose. "Well, I must say, Nephew Richard," he began, in a rasping voice, "that this is a nice reception for me. Your horrible beast nearly bit me. The house is no place for dogs." "I'm sorry that Grit annoyed you, Uncle Ezra," said Dick as he recognized the miserly man whom he had once visited. "Hum!" grunted the old man. "If I hadn't stood on a chair he would have bit me, and then I'd get hydrophobia, and die. Your father would have had to pay damages, too." "I'm glad no such thing as that happened, Uncle Ezra." "Hum! Where's your father?" "Down to the bank. I can telephone, and let him know that you are here." "It isn't necessary. No need of wearing out the wires that way. I can wait. I hear he has some foolish notion of sending you to a military school." "I am going to a military academy, Uncle Ezra, in accordance with my mother's wishes." "Stuff and nonsense! A wicked waste of money! The ordinary schools were good enough for me, and they ought to be good enough for you. It's a sinful waste of money. Mortimer Hamilton ought to be ashamed of himself. The money ought to go to the heathen. It's foolish." "My father doesn't think so," replied Dick as quietly as he could, though he was fast becoming angry at the dictatorial tone of his crabbed uncle. "Hum! Much he knows about it! The idea of putting such ideas into boys' heads as fighting and killing. Hu!" "But it might be useful in case of war." "Stuff and nonsense! It's positively wicked, I tell you. I've come to remonstrate with Mortimer about it. If he has to go to Europe, which is another waste of money, he could leave you with me. I'd bring you up in the way you should go. There's no nonsense about me, nor my wife, either. If your father consents to having you come to my place, you'll learn more than you would at any military academy. Stuff and nonsense! Don't talk to me! I know!" Dick could not repress a shudder as he thought of his uncle's gloomy home in Dankville, a house amid a clump of fir trees, so dark, so quiet and so lonesome that it reminded him of a vault in the cemetery. "I think my father has made up his mind to send me to the military academy," said the boy. "Well, perhaps I can make him change his mind. He doesn't know what's good for boys." How Uncle Ezra Larabee could understand what lads needed, never having had any sons of his own, was more than Dick could fathom, but he said nothing. "I'll wait and see your father," went on the crabbed man. "I can get my automobile and take you to the bank," suggested Dick. "No, you might burst a tire, and that would cost something to fix." Dick could hardly repress a smile at the idea of a possible injured tire standing in the way of an auto ride. "What's that girl walking back and forth so much for in the next room?" asked Uncle Ezra suddenly. "That's the maid, clearing away the breakfast things." "Hum! She'll wear the carpet out," commented the old man. "I must speak to Mortimer about it. I think I'll caution her now." He rose, to do this, but accidentally stepped on one of Grit's legs, as the animal was reposing under a chair, where Dick had sent him to get him out of the way. The dog let out a howl, and then a savage growl, and made for the man he felt had purposely injured him. "Hold him! Catch him!" cried Uncle Ezra, as he sprang away. "Hold him, Nephew Richard!" "Grit!" called Dick. "Come here!" But the dog refused to mind. Growling and snarling, he ran after Uncle Ezra. The latter did not stop to speak to the maid about wearing out the carpet. Instead he kept on to the front hall, and to the entrance door, which was, fortunately, open. Down the steps, three at a time, jumped Mr. Larabee, the dog close behind him. But, by this time Dick had caught up to his pet, and grasped him by the collar. "Grit! Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" he asked, but he could hardly keep from smiling, while, as for Grit, he nearly wagged off his stump of a tail, so glad was he at having routed Uncle Ezra. "I'll go down and see your father at the bank!" cried the excited man, turning when he was safely on the sidewalk. "The idea of having a savage beast like that in the house. I'll see Mortimer and make him change his plans. And I tell you one thing, Nephew Richard, if you come to live with me you'll have to get rid of that bulldog," and, angrily shaking his head, Uncle Ezra tramped down the street, walking slowly to save shoe leather, though he was a very rich man. "I hope dad doesn't allow himself to be influenced by Uncle Ezra," thought Dick, as he went back into the house with the dog. "We never could stand it at Dankville; could we, Grit?" And the animal whined as if he understood. CHAPTER IV IN WHICH DICK STARTS OFF Mr. Hamilton came home early that afternoon, bringing Mr. Larabee, his brother-in-law, with him. Dick was anxiously awaiting their arrival. "Is that fierce beast in the house?" demanded the boy's uncle, as he stood on the front steps. "If he is I'll not come in." "I've sent him to the stable, uncle," replied the young millionaire. "That's the proper place for him. Dogs are no good. They eat as much as a man, and what you spend on keeping them would provide for a heathen child in Africa." Dick wondered if Uncle Ezra provided for any heathen children, from his wealth, but did not think it wise to ask. "Well, Dick," said Mr. Hamilton, when they were all three in the library, "your uncle thinks it would be a good plan for me to leave you with him, while I'm away." "Yes?" remarked Dick, his heart beating faster than usual. "It's the only sensible plan," said Uncle Ezra with a snort. "Your idea of a military academy, where he'll learn to shoot and stab his fellow citizens, is a foolish one, Mortimer." "It is not altogether my plan," said Mr. Hamilton softly as he thought of his dead wife. "Dick's mother provided for his future in her will, and I must see that her wishes are carried out. Besides, I think a military training is good for a young man." "Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Uncle Ezra. "Neither you nor I had it, Mortimer, and we got along. We're both well off." "Money isn't everything," said Mr. Hamilton. "No, Ezra, I'm much obliged for your offer, but I think Dick will go to Kentfield. He is to start in the morning." "Hum! It's a foolish idea," again snorted Uncle Ezra. "You'll live to see the day you'll both be sorry for it." "I hope not, Ezra." "Well, you will." "We'll not discuss that now. Will you have a cigar before dinner?" "I never smoke. It's a dangerous and expensive habit." "Slightly dangerous, perhaps, but I smoke very little. As for the expense, I think I can afford it. This has been quite a prosperous year for me--and Dick." "What you spend for cigars would pay the interest on a large loan," went on Mr. Larabee. "Yes, but I don't need the loan," declared Mr. Hamilton with a smile, "and I do feel that I need a cigar to rest me after my day's work. However, I don't advocate tobacco for young men, and Dick has promised not to smoke until he is of age, and that will not be for a few years yet." "Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Uncle Ezra, as he could thing of nothing else to say. "Perhaps you'd like a glass of lemonade before dinner," suggested Dick. "No," replied the austere man. "I don't think I'll stop for dinner. My visit here has resulted in no good, and the sooner I get back home the better. Besides I've got a new hired man, and I'm almost certain he'll set the barn afire; he's so careless." "Oh, I hope not, Ezra," said Mr. Hamilton. "So do I, but I'd be nervous all night and I wouldn't sleep. Then I might get sick, and have to pay out money for a doctor, or some medicine. No; I'll take the late train home." "But that won't get you there until after midnight." "That's all right. It'll be cooler then, and there won't be so much danger of overheating the horse. When you overheat a horse you sometimes have to buy medicine for him, and horse medicine is expensive." Seeing that his brother-in-law could not be prevailed upon to remain, Mr. Hamilton bade him good-bye, and Dick offered to take his uncle to the depot in the auto, but Mr. Larabee would not hear of it. He would walk, he said, and save the car fare. "He's a queer man--your uncle," said Mr. Hamilton that night. "I guess you wouldn't fancy staying with him; eh Dick?" "No, indeed, dad. A military academy for mine, as Bricktop would say." Dick was up early the next morning, when both he and his father were to go away from home, each for a considerable time. The servants had been provided for, and the handsome Hamilton mansion would be closed for several months. Dick accompanied his father to the bank after breakfast, and planned to go to the depot from there, some of his chums having arranged to meet him at the station. "Ah, good morning, gentlemen!" exclaimed a pompous voice, as Dick and his father entered the institution, and the young millionaire saw "Hank" Darby, ready to greet them. "I understand you are about to become a soldier," he went on to Dick. "Well, a sort of one," replied our hero. "Ah, that's a grand and noble calling. I once thought I would be one of the defenders of my country, but I was called into other lines of activity," said the father of the young proprietor of the scrap iron business. He did not specify what the other lines were. "It is indeed noble to fight for one's flag," went on the shiftless man, "but it is also noble to accumulate wealth with which to fit out armies. That is what I am doing. I am accumulating wealth." "How is it going?" asked Mr. Hamilton, who, as well as did Dick, knew that Henry, the son, made all the money, which "Hank" spent as fast as he could get any of it. "Well, it might be better," said the shiftless one. "But I have a scheme on hand." "Another scheme, eh?" "Yes, this is a very good one. There are enormous possibilities in it, sir, _enormous_!" and "Hank" fairly stood on his tiptoes to get this last word out with much emphasis. "Well, I hope you succeed," said Mr. Hamilton, as he and his son went to the millionaire's private office. The final details for the trips of father and son were arranged. Dick had his own bank account, and would not want for money. His father gave him some advice, and then the two said good-bye to each other, Dick having to leave before his father did, as the latter was to take an express to New York, where he would get a steamer for Europe. Grit, the dog, was to be left in charge of Henry Darby. "Well, my boy," said Mr. Hamilton, as he shook hands with Dick, "remember what you are going for. You're under a big handicap, but I guess you will win. You did the other time, though it was a close shave." "Good-bye," said Dick, unable to keep back the suspicion of a tear. "Good-bye," replied Mr. Hamilton, turning hastily to his desk, and fumbling among some papers, which seemed to rattle unnecessarily loud. On the way to the depot Dick met Captain Handlee. The veteran greeted the lad cordially. "So you're off to learn to be a soldier?" he asked. "Well, I don't know that the military part of it amounts to much," admitted Dick, who had no false ideas about where he was going, "but dad thinks the discipline will be good for me, I guess." "That's right. Nothing like discipline of the right sort for lads. We didn't have to learn to be soldiers in my time." "No, I s'pose you just went right in and fought," said Dick. "Indeed we did. That's what my boy did. Poor Bill! I wish I could see him, or even hear of him again. You'll not forget your promise; will you?" "No, Captain Handlee." "Remember he was the best shot in his company. He could drive a tack in a board at a hundred yards. You make some inquiries, and I think you'll get on the track of him." "I will," promised Dick, but he had no idea in what a strange way fate was to bring about the old captain's desires through him. Dick found a crowd of his chums awaiting for him at the railroad station. "Here he comes!" cried Frank Bender, as he caught sight of Dick. "Aren't you going to take your rifle with you?" asked Fred Murdock. "I guess they'll provide me with a gun at Kentfield," answered Dick. "But they won't give you such grub as we had at camp," remarked Bricktop. "Oh, I guess they will, but maybe it won't taste so good," replied the young millionaire. "Well, boys, I guess this is my train." All his chums tried to shake hands with Dick at once as the locomotive pulled into the station. "Don't forget to send me a souvenier postal," called Bill Johnson. "Tell us how you like it," chimed in Walter. "Maybe my dad will send me," added Bricktop. "Tell us if you meet any girls as pretty as those here," was Fred's contribution. "Get on the football team," advised Frank. "And the baseball nine," chimed in Bricktop. By this time a number of passengers had their heads out of the windows, to see who was getting such a send-off. Dick's chums shook him by the hand, clapped him on the back, and fairly carried him up the steps of the coach. Then, amid a chorus of good-byes, the train pulled out, and Dick was started on his way to become a cadet. CHAPTER V AN ODD CHARACTER It was evening when Dick arrived at Kentfield, which, from the scenes about the station, he judged to be quite a town of little importance. There were few signs of life, scarcely anyone being at the depot, and only a few passengers alighting. "I wonder if I can get a carriage to take me out to the academy?" mused Dick, as he looked about. "This doesn't strike me as being much of a place, but the catalogue dad got showed quite an academy. I wonder where it is?" He saw a rather dilapidated hack standing near the platform, and, walking up to it, addressed the driver. "Can you take me out to the military academy?" he asked. "Sure," replied the man, "but there's nothing to see. It isn't open yet. Term doesn't begin until next week." "I know," replied Dick. "But I'm going to attend there." "You?" The man seemed much surprised, but there was a noticeable change in his manner. "Going to be a student there?" he asked respectfully. "Yes. I had to come on ahead of time." "All right. Take you out there in a jiffy," went on the hack driver briskly. "Got any baggage?" Dick handed over his checks, and the man soon returned with his trunk and suitcase. "This doesn't appear to be a very lively place; not as much so as I expected," remarked the young millionaire as he got into the vehicle. "Oh, bless your heart, sir, you just wait until next week," said the man. "Then this town will sit up and take notice. This is our off season, when the military school is closed. But when the boys arrive--wow! Say, then's when you got to look out. My! Oh my! But it's fierce!" "Do they--do they cut up much?" asked Dick, secretly glad that he was to have a hand in it if the students did. "Do they? Say, young man, when I start to drive a party of them cadets anywhere I don't never know if we're going to arrive. Never can tell when a wheel is coming off, or when my horses will start up, and leave the coach behind. That's why I always use quiet animals. Them cadets has life enough and to spare. Cut up? Say, jest you wait!" "Well, maybe it won't be so bad after I get started, and make the acquaintance of some of the boys," thought Dick. But he little knew what was ahead of him. "Is the academy far out?" asked Dick, for, as the hack was an open one, he could converse with the driver. "About a mile. We'll be there in a jiffy." A "jiffy" must be quite a period of time, or else the driver's estimate of a mile was different from the accepted five thousand two hundred and eighty feet, for dusk changed to darkness before the hackman turned in between two big, stone pillars, and the man announced: "Here we are." "I don't see anything," objected Dick. "It's too dark. But the buildings are right ahead of you." Then the lad was able to make out the dim forms of a number of structures located in a sort of park. "Where's the lake?" asked Dick. "I thought the academy was on a lake." "So it is. That's on the other side. We're sort of coming in from the back, but that's the shortest road from the depot. I'll take you right to Colonel Masterly's quarters. He's the one you want to see, I guess, being as you're a new cadet, and he's the superintendent." "I suppose so," answered Dick. A little later he alighted in front of a large brick structure, and the hackman lifted down his trunk and suitcase. "Do they expect you?" asked the driver. "I think so," replied our hero, hoping that some arrangements had been made for him. A moment later a door opened, and a flood of light streamed out from a broad hall. A man in semi-military uniform appeared. "Who's there?" he asked, and, having spoken he began to whistle a few bars from "Marching Through Georgia," ending up with a bugle call. "Got a cadet for you, Toots," replied the hackman. "A cadet?" and once more the man in the hall whistled a martial air. "That's what I said, Toots. Give me a hand with this trunk, will you, and tell Colonel Masterly that he's going to have company." "My name's Hamilton," began Dick. "I believe my father arranged----" "Oh yes, the colonel told me to look out for you," said the man who looked like a soldier. "Come right in. The colonel will be here directly. I'll take your baggage." "Thank you--er Mr.----" and Dick hesitated, for he did not just know how to address the person in the hall, and wanted to make no mistake in bestowing a military title. "Me? Oh I'm Sam Sander," said the man in the blue suit, apparently surprised that his identity was not known. "Yes, that's Sam," went on the hack driver, with easy familiarity, "but nobody calls him that; do they, Toots?" The other, who was helping to carry in Dick's trunk did not answer. Instead he whistled the bugle call for "Taps," or lights out. "Do they, Toots?" repeated the hack driver. "Do they what?" inquired the soldier, who seemed to be rather absent minded. "Do they call you anything but Toots?" "Nope. That's what they call me. I don't mind. I've almost forgotten what my real name is. Toots is good enough I expect." "He's a queer chap," whispered the hackman to Dick, as our hero paid him. "Queer, but all right. He's a sort of general helper around the grounds. Well, good night. I'll see you again maybe, when some of the other lads begin to arrive. And then won't there be lively times! Wow! My! Oh my! But them students certainly know how to have fun!" The hackman appeared to relish the prospect, and Dick could hear him chuckling to himself as he drove off in the darkness. "Right this way, Mr. Hamilton," said Toots, which name we shall adopt for him. "I will find the colonel for you----" He stopped suddenly, straightened up, in spite of the suitcase which he was carrying, and gave a stiff military salute. "Mr. Hamilton has arrived, sir," he said, and at that Dick caught sight of a tall thin man, with an iron gray moustache and imperial, coming down the broad, well-lighted hall. "Ah, Hamilton, glad to see you," said the soldierly-looking gentleman, extending his hand. "I'm Colonel Masterly. You are a little early, but I understand the case. Have you had dinner?" Dick had not, and said so. "Then you can dine with me," went on Colonel Masterly. "Sam, take Mr. Hamilton's baggage to the room I told you to get ready for him. I'll quarter you here for the present," he added, "until the boys arrive, and then you will have a roommate. How is your father?" "Quite well," replied Dick, and then he followed the superintendent into a reception room. There two other military-looking men sat reading books. They looked up at the entrance of Dick and the colonel, who introduced them to the new student as Major Henry Rockford, commandant of the academy, and Major Franklin Webster, U. S. A., retired, who was in charge of military tactics at the school. "That's the man of whom I must inquire about Captain Handlee's missing son," thought Dick, as the two instructors shook hands with him. "But I guess I'll wait a few days." Dinner was rather a formal affair, and our hero did not in the least enjoy it. The three men talked of matters connected with the prospective opening of the school, occasionally addressing a question to Dick, or making some general remark. The academy more than came up to Dick's expectations when he saw it the next morning. The school was made up of several buildings, consisting of a main barracks, which was where he had spent the night, and which contained the executive offices and class rooms, two other barracks, a gymnasium, a large mess hall, a riding hall, a small hospital and other structures. They were grouped on a large plain, that lay at the foot of quite a mountain range, but, what pleased Dick more than anything else, was a large lake that came right to the edge of the academy grounds. It was a beautiful sheet of water, and, from the appearance of a large boathouse near at hand, Dick guessed rightly that the cadet-students spent considerable time rowing and sailing. After breakfast, under the guidance of Toots, who was detailed by Colonel Masterly for that purpose, Dick was taken on a tour of the grounds. He was particularly pleased with the big stable, which contained a fine lot of horses. "Are those for the cadets to use?" he asked Toots. "Of course. Do you know how to ride?" "A little," replied Dick, who did not believe in boasting, though, in reality, he was a fine horseman. "I'll certainly have a swell time here," he thought, as he strolled about. He obtained permission to row out on the lake, and then was left to his own resources. After the first novelty of seeing the buildings had worn off, Dick began to feel a little lonesome, and he wished that the week was up, and that the other students would begin to arrive. But he found much to interest him, and made friends with Toots, who told him many and various stories of student life. "Why do they call you Toots?" asked Dick one day. "Well, I s'pose it's because I've got in the habit of tooting my whistle all the while. I'm always whistling war tunes or bugle calls, the boys say." "That's so. What makes you?" "I don't know, except that I'm fond of a military life. Some day I'm going to war." "Well, I hope you don't get shot," said Dick, as Toots left him, still whistling. It was a few days after this that Dick saw a new student arrive. The lad, for reasons similar to those affecting our hero, had been sent to the academy in advance of the opening of the term. Dick soon made his acquaintance, and he found the newcomer rather an odd character. His name was William Schoop, but he was called "William the Silent" by the other cadets, so Major Webster said, from the fact that he did not talk much. He used only single words where others would take a sentence, and he often made gestures answer for words. Dick and Will soon became friends, and the latter, who had spent a previous term at the school, showed the young millionaire about the buildings and grounds. CHAPTER VI THE HAZING One morning, two days after the arrival of the silent lad, when Dick had moved his baggage to his permanent room in the south barracks, the two lads were strolling about the campus. Dick was beginning to wish his companion was more sociable, when Will, with a sudden gesture, pointed off toward the town, along the main road that led from the station. Dick looked, and saw a cloud of dust approaching. "What's that?" he inquired. "Fellows coming," was all Will replied. He started off toward the main gate, and Dick followed. The dust clouds became larger, and approached closer. Then Dick saw that they were made by two large stages, and, a little later, he could discern that the vehicles were crowded with youths. Above the rumble of the wheels could be heard laughing, joyous voices. There were shouts, yells, cheers, whoops and cries. "Three cheers for Kentfield!" called some one, and the resulting yells caused the horses of the stage to prance more madly than ever. A few moments later the vehicles had halted at the gate, and from them, pell-mell leaped the cadets, returning to the academy after the long, summer vacation. "There's William the Silent!" cried one lad, rushing up to Dick's odd friend, and shaking hands with him. "Hello, Will! How are you? Are you the only one here, so far?" William merely nodded. Then he waved his hand toward our hero. "Dick Hamilton," he said. Dick stepped forward to greet the students, expecting them to tell him their names. From the group of cadets that had gathered around Will, a tall, good looking chap, but with rather a hard, cruel gleam in his dark eyes, stepped forth. "What's your name, new chap?" he asked somewhat sneeringly. "Hamilton--Dick Hamilton," replied the young millionaire. "Oh, Hamilton--Millionaire Hamilton's son, eh?" asked Dick's questioner, with an unpleasant air. "I believe so," answered Dick, trying to smile good-naturedly in spite of the overbearing air of the lad, who was no older than himself. "I've heard about you," went on the other. "Fellows," he said, turning to those surrounding him, "this is the young hostage of fortune who has consented to dwell a while in our midst. I saw a little paragraph in the paper a few days ago to the effect that Millionaire Hamilton's son had decided to take a course at Kentfield Military Academy. That is he condescended to inflict his presence on us. I'm sure the academy is highly honored," and the lad made a mocking bow. Dick felt the hot flush rising to his face. He had never been so insulted before. An angry reply was on his lips. "Millions don't go here, Hamilton," said another youth. "Your money won't count, and the sooner you find that out the better. Come on, fellows, let's see if old Toots is still alive, and then we'll have some fun." "Ta-ta, Hamilton, I suppose you brought a solid gold bedstead with you," said the lad who had first spoken, as he turned on his heel, and followed the others. "Maybe you'd like to buy the place," he fired back over his shoulder. "You--you----" began Dick angrily. He was stopped by a touch on his shoulder. He looked around, to see William the Silent standing near him. "Take it easy," was all Will said, but Dick understood. Choking down, as best he could, his righteous wrath at the mean treatment accorded him, Dick strolled down to the lake. Will did not attempt to follow, for he understood. Sorely puzzled over the conduct of those whom he hoped would be his friends, Dick got into a boat, and went out for a solitary row. He wanted to be alone and think. "It's queer they should treat me that way," he mused. "I'm sure I don't make any fuss about my money. Maybe they are afraid I'll try to, and they're taking no chances. But they ought to give a fellow a show first." After rowing about for an hour Dick felt better. He resolved not to force his friendship on the students, but to let matters take their course. He had expected a little "stand-offishness" on the part of the older cadets, who were always, more or less, inclined to be on their dignity with freshmen. "Well, I'll wait until some new fellows arrive," thought Dick. "I guess I can make friends with them." When he returned to shore he found that many more students had come in, the next day marking the opening of the term. Among the lads were a number of new cadets, as Dick could easily tell by their bashful, diffident manners. He felt that he had somewhat the advantage of them, for he had been at the place more than a week. "Still, my only acquaintances, outside of the teachers are William the Silent, Toots and the hostler," he reflected. There was a notice posted on the campus bulletin board to the effect that all new students were to report at the south barrack. Thither Dick went, finding Captain Hayden, the head master in charge, showing the boys to their rooms. "Ah, Hamilton," called the captain, as he caught sight of Dick, "you are to room with Paul Drew, on the second floor. Room Twenty-six is yours. I think you can find your way there. Go up and take Drew with you." A tall quiet youth greeted Dick with a smile. "I'm Drew," he said. "I suppose you're Hamilton?" "What there is of me," answered the millionaire youth. "Is this your first term?" He knew it was, but he wanted to say something. "Yes. I'm from Kentucky." "I'm a York Stater. Come on and I'll show you where we bunk." The two made their way through crowds of new boys and were soon in their apartment. It was like all the others provided for the use of the students. It contained two small iron beds, and was simply furnished. "Here's where we'll be at home," observed Dick. "Have you any choice as to a bed?" "No, either one will suit me." "All right, we'll toss up for it. Heads is the one nearest the window. You call." Dick spun a coin in the air. "Tails!" cried young Drew. "Tails it is," announced Dick. "Then I'll take the bed away from the window. It's likely to be cold in the winter." "I don't mind. I like a cool breeze now and then. But stow away your things and come on down. There's lots to see. I hope we get into our uniforms soon. You've got yours, haven't you?" "Yes," replied Dick's roommate. Dick had been provided with the necessary dress uniform before leaving home, and he was anxious to don it. The other uniforms were to be obtained at the academy. The two boys, after hastily putting away their things, went down on the campus, which was fairly swarming with old and new students. More boys were arriving with every stage, and the shouts and cries, as former acquaintances greeted one another, made the green sound like an athletic ground with a championship match in progress. As Dick and Paul stood looking about them, the young millionaire felt some one touch him on the arm. He turned and saw William Schoop. Will nodded his head to indicate that he wanted Dick to step aside for a moment. Excusing himself from his roommate Dick walked a little distance, following William the Silent. "Don't mind Dutton," said William. "Who's Dutton?" inquired Dick. "Fellow that rigged you. He's an uppish chap, but he's a leader with the upper classmen. Don't let him worry you." This was a longer speech than Will usually made. "But why should he be down on me because I've got money?" asked Dick. "It isn't my fault." "Very exclusive school, this," explained Will. "Patronized by old, blue-blooded families, who pretend to have a horror of the newly-rich." "But my father has been wealthy many years." Will shrugged his shoulders. "They seem to have a prejudice against you," he went on. "Don't mind. It'll wear off. Dutton--Ray Dutton's put 'em up to it. He's a cad. Don't mind him," and with that Will turned and walked away. "Well, I guess I can get along without Dutton and his crowd," thought Dick. "Queer, I never supposed money would make this sort of a difference. It didn't at home. Well, I'll try to get along, but it's evidently going to be up-hill work. Still, I'll do it, and, if money stands in the way--well----" Dick shrugged his shoulders in a sort of helpless fashion, and rejoined Paul. The two strolled about, noting the scenes taking place on every hand. They saw many cadets, obviously freshmen, and some of the latter introduced themselves to Dick and his companion. They were Franklin Boardman, Stanley Booker, Lyndon Butler and Eugene Graham. "Let's stick together for a while," proposed 'Gene, as the boys called him. "It'll soon be grub time, I understand, and we'll sit near each other." This suited the others, and, when the gong rang, summoning them to the mess hall, the six lads went in a body, finding seats in a row on one side of the long tables, which were served by colored waiters. Discipline had not yet been put into force, and no one was in uniform. The mess hall was a lively place, for the older cadets were continually calling jokes back and forth to their chums, or jollying the waiters whom they knew of old. Dick and his new acquaintances conversed together, and, in spite of their rather awkward feelings, managed to partake of a good meal, for Kentfield Academy was noted for the excellence of its cuisine. When the meal was nearly over Toots appeared in the hall, with a hammer, and a piece of paper. He tacked a notice up on the bulletin board. "Hey, Toots; what's that?" called Ray Dutton. "Notice about appearing in uniform, Mr. Dutton," replied the odd soldier. "When's it to be?" "To-morrow morning." "Aw, tear that down, Toots, you imitation brigadier general you!" called another youth. "Sure. We don't want to tog up until the first of the week," added another. "Swallow that, Toots, and tell the commandant you lost it." "Orders is orders," said Toots firmly, hammering in the last tack, and leaving the hall. The afternoon was spent in assigning the new cadets to their classes, and arranging for the courses of study. They were told that formal drills would not begin until Monday, this being Thursday, nor would any recitations be heard until then. After supper, or dinner as it was called at the academy, the new boys strolled about in little groups, Dick and his five friends keeping together. "I wonder where all the older cadets are?" said Dick, as he looked about, and noticed that none was in sight. "That's so, they have disappeared," added Lyndon Butler. "I wonder what that means?" They did not have long to wait for an answer. A figure slid up to Dick, and, almost without turning he knew it to be Will. The silent youth spoke but one word: "Hazing!" Then he walked away as silently as he had approached, and Dick turned to his companions. "I guess they're getting ready to haze us freshmen," he remarked. "I thought they didn't haze here," said 'Gene Graham quickly. He was rather a small chap, and seemed very nervous. "I guess they do it in spite of the rules," said Dick. "Well, the best way is to take what's coming, and bear it as well as you can. If you don't it will be unpleasant for you. I don't believe it will be very bad." "Are you going to let 'em haze you?" asked Paul Drew. "Sure," answered Dick. "Then I guess I will, too." "Well, I s'pose it's got to be," said little 'Gene with a sigh. "I hope they don't toss us in a blanket, though." "If they do, just lie still, and you'll come down easy," advised Dick. "It'll soon be over." That night, in their room, Dick and Paul heard the sound of footsteps along the corridor. Then came smothered cries, and strange sounds in the apartments adjoining. "They're coming," whispered Paul. Dick nodded grimly. A moment later there came a soft knock on their portal. "Well?" asked Dick, though he knew who it was. "Open, in the name of the Ancient and Honorable Order of the Mystic Pig," came the demand in a whisper. Dick opened the door, and in rushed several of the older cadets, led by Ray Dutton. "Oh, we've drawn a millionaire!" Dutton cried, in sneering tones. "Well, take the other chap first, fellows. Lively, now, we've got a heap of 'em to initiate!" Several lads seized Paul, who submitted with as good grace as possible. CHAPTER VII DICK THINKS HE HAS A CLUE "What's it to be, Ray, the blanket, outside, or the ordeal of the pitcher?" asked one of the cadets holding Paul. "The pitcher, I guess," answered Dutton. "The blanket's getting too tame, and we have so many to look after that we can't take 'em outside. Any water in the jug, Beeby?" "Full," replied a fat lad, taking up one of the two pitchers in the room. "Up with him!" commanded Dutton, and several cadets seized Paul in an instant. Before he knew what was happening they had stood him on his head, two of them holding each of his rather long legs upright. "Hold open his trouser legs," said Dutton. "I'll do the pouring." He had the pitcher full of water, and, as his fellow hazers made a sort of funnel of the two legs of the victim's trousers, Ray poured the contents of the water pitcher down them. The fluid spurted out at the unlucky new student's waist and collar, and ran in a little stream over the floor. Paul struggled but could not escape. "Sop that up, fellows!" cried Dutton. "We don't want it to ruin the ceilings below. Use the bed clothes." The other cadets, who were not holding Paul, grabbed the sheets and spreads from the neatly made beds, and piled them in the little pond of water on the floor. "Hand me the other pitcher, Naylor," commanded the leader. "Better save it for----" and Naylor glanced at Dick, who was standing quietly in a corner, under guard of several cadets, awaiting his turn. "We'll not need it for him," replied Dutton. "Give it here." Some one handed him the other pitcher full of water, and the fluid in that, a moment later, went gurgling down the inside of Paul's clothes, spurting out as had the other. "You're initiated into the Ancient and Honorable Order of the Mystic Pig," announced Dutton, making a sign to his comrades to let Paul regain his feet. "Do you solemnly promise to be most respectful to your superiors, and not to partake of ham and eggs or any form of pork until after Christmas?" "You'd better promise," said one of the cadets to Paul, who hesitated. "Oh, I promise all right," he said, with a rueful smile as he looked down at his soaked garments, and surveyed the confusion in the room. There was not a dry article of bed clothing left. "Now for the other one!" cried Beeby, making a grab for Dick. The young millionaire was ready to submit to any form of hazing that might be inflicted, but, to his surprise Dutton said: "Never mind him. We'll let him go." "Why he's a freshman," objected several of the cadets, evidently thinking Dutton imagined Dick to be immune. "I know it, but he's in a different class," went on the leader with a covert sneer. "He might buy up the police authorities and have us arrested for having a little fun. We'll let him alone. We're only after common mortals." Dick flushed. "You're mistaken," he said as calmly as he could. "If hazing is in order I'm ready to take my share. I assure you I won't squeal. I'm not that kind." It hurt him, to think that he should be taken for a "squealer." He, Dick Hamilton, who had done his own share of hazing in the academy at home. "No, thank you. It's too risky monkeying with millionaires," said Dutton. "Come on, fellows." The band of hazing cadets filed out of Dick's room, bent on subjecting other students to their harmless pranks. As they left, Dick heard one of them say: "Aw, Dutton, why didn't we try the rope and window game on him? It would have been sport. He looks like an all-right sort." "He isn't in our class," replied the leader of the hazers. "He thinks his money can get him anything he wants, but he'll find out he's mistaken. It's a shame the faculty allowed him to come here, where only the best families are represented." Dick heard it all plainly. He realized how he had been misjudged, but he resolved to live down the wrong opinion the other students seemed to have formed of him. Or perhaps they merely followed Dutton's leadership. And so Dick was not hazed, though he was the only freshman in all the academy who escaped the ordeal, and, though many lads would gladly have dispensed with the ceremony, Dick Hamilton felt as if he would have parted with some of his fortune to have been included in the unfortunate class. For, had he been, it would have meant that he was considered as a future chum and comrade of the upperclassmen. But he had been left severely alone. "Well, you got off lucky," commented Paul, as he began to remove his wet garments. "Do you think so?" asked Dick, somewhat bitterly. "I rather wish they had given me what you got." "Why?" asked his roommate. Dick told his reasons. "I don't see why they hold my money against me," he added. "I heard some talk about it," admitted Paul. "Some of the older cadets have read the things printed in the papers about you; when you went out west to investigate that gold mine, and when you hired the circus to come to Hamilton Corners. They evidently think you depend on your money to win popularity, and I heard some of them say you were to be taught a lesson." "They're beginning already," said Dick. "Perhaps you would rather not room with such an unpopular chap as I seem to be. I guess I could get an apartment alone, by paying double rates," he added, sarcastically. "Nonsense!" exclaimed Paul. "I'm not that sort, and I don't believe you'll find many cadets who are. I don't care for money, one way or the other. I wish my dad had a little more. Don't let Dutton and his cronies worry you. You'll have friends among the freshmen, anyway." "Not if Dutton has his say." "Well, perhaps he won't have it. He comes of a very old family, I'm told, who have not much money, but who are very proud. I don't care for him myself, but he's considered a leader here." "My, you certainly got a soaking," commented Dick, as Paul stripped. He was glad to change the unpleasant subject. "I sure did," admitted the other "and what's more we've got to sleep in a damp bed, unless we ask the housekeeper for other covers." "No, don't do that. I would give the hazing away, and I might become more unpopular than I am," and Dick laughed a little uneasily. "I don't fancy sleeping between damp sheets, though." "I've got an extra suit of pajamas in my case," said Dick. "You can put them on, and we'll stretch out on the beds without covers. "It's not cold. We'll take our medicine. Or, rather, I'll share part of yours." They passed a rather uncomfortable night, but did not think of complaining. In the morning they compared notes with the other freshmen, many of whom had had the same experience. That day was spent in forming the new cadets into companies, and, to Dick's disgust he found that he was in the company of which Ray Dutton was the cadet captain, and John Stiver, a crony of the captain, was lieutenant. Paul Drew was in Company B, Dick's being designated as Company A. But our hero took some consolation from the fact that his odd friend William the Silent was a sergeant in his company. The new cadets were given their rifles, made to don uniforms, put through a preliminary drill that afternoon, and told something of the routine that would be in order when matters had settled down into their usual grooves. Dick picked out his line of studies, received his text books and took them to his room, where he found Paul. The next day being Saturday the cadets had the afternoon free and they strolled about the grounds, went off on horseback or rowing, as they desired. Somewhat to his regret Dick noticed that a rule was posted forbidding freshmen to go out rowing or riding alone after Saturday. They must be accompanied by a teacher or cadet officer. "They must think we're babies," he murmured. "Well, when we get to know the ropes a little better," said Paul, "we'll go out together." That evening, when the mail was distributed, Dick received a letter from his father, posted just as the ship was sailing. There were also several missives from his chums at home, and quite a bulky letter, which when the young millionaire opened it, he saw was from aged Captain Handlee, and contained a photograph. With many words, and a somewhat lengthy explanation, the old soldier stated that he had had copies made of the photograph of his son, and was sending one to Dick, to aid him in tracing the missing man. "There, I nearly forgot about my promise," said Dick, recalling it as he saw the picture. "I must make some inquiries of Major Webster as soon as possible." He took the photograph to his room, and placed it on a shelf, where he would be sure to see it, to remind him of his quest, though he had little hopes that it would amount to anything. It was Sunday morning when Dick, who had awakened rather early, heard steps coming along the corridor, and then came the whistled strains of "Just Before the Battle, Mother," followed by the reveille, cheerily warbled. "That's Toots," said Dick to Paul, who awakened just then. Toots stopped outside Dick's door and knocked. "Come," cried the young millionaire, and Toots, the odd character, entered, carrying a pail of hot water. "One of the janitors is sick," he explained, "and I'm helping out. You can use this for shaving or drink it, just as you like," he added with a smile. He filled the boys' hot water pitchers, and was about to leave the room, when he caught sight of the photograph of Corporal Bill Handlee on the shelf. "Where--where did you get that?" he asked, turning quickly to the two lads. "Why?" asked Dick, much impressed by the manner of Toots. "Because I--I think I know him--or did once," and the man set down his pail of water, and drew his hand across his forehead, as if trying to brush away some cobwebs. Dick noticed that there was a scar on the man's brow. "Where did you see him? When was it? Where was it?" asked Dick rapidly, thinking he had stumbled on a clue. "I don't know--I can't recollect, but the face--that face seems familiar," and Toots, taking up the photo, gazed earnestly at it. "That is the picture of the missing son of an old soldier who lives in Hamilton Corners," said Dick. "Captain Handlee asked me to make some inquiries about him. It's queer you should think you recognized it, Toots. Were you ever in the army?" The man shook his head slowly. "I don't know," he said. "I'm a fine shot though. I ought to be in the army." Dick felt a new hope. The missing man said he was an expert marksman. But then Dick recalled what he had heard about Toots; that the man had a delusion that he was a sharpshooter, but that he could scarcely hit the outer edge of a big target. "Can't you recall where you have seen this man?" asked Dick earnestly. Toots slowly shook his head. "What was his name?" he asked. "Corporal Bill Handlee." "No, that name doesn't sound familiar. But I'm sure I've seen him somewhere. I can't think--something seems to stop me here," and the man again passed his hand across his forehead. "Try," urged Dick. Toots made a strong effort to recall the past, but it was of no avail. He shook his head once more, picked up his pail, and started out. "I guess I'm mistaken," he said. "But some day you boys must come and see me shoot. I'm a dandy at it." Then he went down the corridor whistling "The Star Spangled Banner," and ending up with a spirited rendition of the bugle call to charge. "That's queer," murmured Dick. "I thought I was going to get some news for Captain Handlee. Well, I must inquire of Major Webster." "Hark," exclaimed Paul, as a bugle sounded clear and crisp on the morning air. "Reveille--first call! Ten minutes to dress and turn out," said Dick, who had been studying the rules, and he began to get into his uniform. CHAPTER VIII DICK GETS A FALL At the chapel service, which the cadets were required to attend, Dick saw, for the first time, all his fellow students gathered together under one roof. They were a fine body of young men, and he felt proud that he was one of them. Every one was in full dress uniform, and a spick and span appearance the lads made, as they marched to and from chapel, to the music of the cadet band. Sunday seemed quite long to Dick, but he managed to spend some pleasant hours, strolling about with Paul Drew, and some other new cadets. He was glad, however, when Monday came, bringing with it many duties. For the next two weeks Dick was kept so busy, being initiated into the mysteries of the drill, guard mounting, parade, marching in different formations, learning the meaning of the military commands, his studies and preparing for inspection, that he had little time to think of other matters. He found opportunity to ask Major Webster concerning missing Bill Handlee, and the tactical officer made some inquiries of the war office, but all to no effect. All trace of the veteran's son seemed to have vanished. "But what do you suppose made Toots--I mean Sam Sander--think he recognized the photo?" asked Dick. "Well, you know poor Sam isn't quite right in his head," replied the major kindly. "He received an injury some years ago, I understand. You can see the scar on his forehead now. That made him rather simple minded, though he is a good worker, and very useful." "Then I'm afraid I can't send Captain Handlee any good news." "I'm afraid not, Hamilton." Dick had to write the sorrowful tidings to the old soldier, much to his regret. The young millionaire also sent a missive to his father, telling something of the life at the academy, but saying nothing of the manner in which he had been treated. Dick bravely resolved to fight his own battles. He found the studies anything but easy, but as he applied himself to his books, he stood well in his class. In the meantime matters were beginning to move with military regularity, and the cadets in their natty uniforms, presented at drill, or inspection, inspiring pictures. At first Dick, and all the new cadets, were rather awkward at drill, but this was to be expected, and little was thought of it. On several occasions though, Captain Dutton, who was in command over Dick, made sneering remarks evidently intended for our hero, who, however, did not reply. With the exception of Sunday and Monday, the same general routine was followed. Reveille was sounded at six o'clock, with a second call ten minutes later. Then came "police" inspection, and woe betide the youth who was not spick and span. Sick call followed, but usually it was a mere form, for the cadets were as healthy as Spartans. On Monday there was always general inspection, when it behooved Dick and his fellows to have their quarters in good order. Plenty of time was allowed for study and recitation, and there was much attention given to military life. There were lectures on tactics, and they were followed by practical illustrations. "I wish they'd let us have a chance at the horses," remarked Dick, to Paul, when they were studying in their room one evening. "The older cadets have plenty of cavalry drill, but we have to march around, carrying heavy guns, and doing all sorts of stunts like that." "I understand we're to have our innings next week." "Is that so? Good!" Dick, and many other of the new cadets who loved horses were pleased to see a notice posted, a few days after this, stating that instructions in riding, and cavalry exercises, were to be given in the big shed and would begin the following Monday. "Now we'll have some fun," said Dick. "Aren't you glad, Paul?" "Well, I don't care much about horses. I feel safer on my feet." "Oh, you'll get used to a horse soon enough, and then you'll never want to walk." There were good horses in the academy stables, and, to his delight, a fine mount was assigned to Dick. He made friends with the animal at once, and when the "awkward squad" was put through their paces, Dick earned commendation from the drill master for the excellent seat he maintained. For a week or more Dick and his fellow freshmen practiced every day in the riding hall. The cadets who at first sat insecurely in the saddle were beginning to learn how to maintain themselves, and one afternoon the drill master announced that the next day they would be allowed to go out on the cavalry plain. "That's the stuff!" cried Dick. "I've been wanting a good gallop for a long time." "Guess we won't have much chance to gallop," replied Paul, who had been transferred to Dick's company. "Dutton's so mean he'll probably keep us at an easy walk. He thinks no one knows how to ride but him." "I'll show him, if I get a chance," murmured Dick. The cadets were formed into four companies the next day, and sent out on the cavalry plain for practice. "Now I don't want any exhibitions of fancy riding," announced Ray Dutton, as he led the cadets over whom he had charge out from the drill hall. "You've got to creep before you walk, you know. Just take it easy, and we'll make a few circuits of the grounds." "Pity he wouldn't let us gallop," said Dick, in a low voice to Paul, beside whom he was riding. "Silence in the ranks!" exclaimed the cadet captain sharply. "Hamilton, if you speak again I'll report you." Dick felt the hot blood mount to his face, but he kept his temper. They went around at a slow pace, many of the lads chaffing under the restraint. Then Dutton gave the command to trot, and they let their horses out a trifle. Whether something frightened Dick's horse, or whether the animal wanted to take a good run and show the others what he could do, it was impossible to say. At any rate our hero's steed gave a sudden spring, and, rushing through the opened ranks of the cadet horsemen ahead of him, sailed past Captain Dutton at a fast gait. "Halt!" cried the leading cadet. "Where are you going, Hamilton? Come back here at once! I'll report you! Come back!" Dick tried to rein his horse in, but the animal had the bit in his teeth, and it was useless to pull on the leather. Still the young millionaire was not frightened. He knew he could manage the animal. But Dutton, with a muttered exclamation, spurred after Dick. "Halt!" he cried again. "Halt, or I'll place you under arrest for disobeying orders!" "I can't stop him!" Dick flung back, over his shoulder. Dutton's horse was a fast one, and he soon caught up to the young cadet. He crossed in front of him, wheeled about and, a moment later the two horses collided violently. Dick was flung up in the air, and, the next instant, came heavily to the ground, where he lay quiet, while his horse bolted. Dutton, who had retained his seat, looked down on the prostrate figure. "Come. Get up," he said. "No shamming." Dick did not move. "Here, Drew, Butler, Graham!" called Captain Dutton. "Here's a chance to practice first aid to the injured. See what's the matter with him." The three cadets he had named galloped forward, while the remainder of the company came to a halt. CHAPTER IX WHO FIRED THE GUN? "Pick him up, and see if he's hurt," ordered Dutton though he did not take the trouble to get off his horse to ascertain. "Very likely he's only shamming." But is needed only a look at Dick's pale face to show that he had had a hard fall. The breath was knocked out of him. The three cadets bent over him, and, while one raised him to a sitting position, the others chaffed his hands. Dick opened his eyes, and stared wonderingly about him. "What--what--where am I?" he asked, and then he saw the mounted students, he added, "I fell." "Are you hurt?" asked Graham. "No--no, I guess not." But when Dick tried to stand he found he was so dizzy that his fellow cadets had to support him. "Take him back to the hospital," ordered Dutton, "and then you three rejoin your company." At that moment Major Webster, who had been drilling some of the older cadets, in advanced tactics on a distant part of the field, came galloping up. "What has happened?" he asked. "Ah, Hamilton, eh? Are you hurt?" "I fell off my horse. He bolted with me," replied Dick. "Are you sure you're not hurt?" "Yes; only a trifle dizzy." "I'm sending him back to the hospital," announced Dutton. "That's proper. Are you sure you'll be all right, Hamilton?" asked the major kindly. "Oh, yes. I believe I can ride now." "No, I can't allow it. You must take a rest." On the way back with the cadets, Dick insisted that he could go alone, and did not need help. "Orders are orders," replied Graham with a smile. "Dutton might make a fuss if we didn't do as he said." "It was all his fault," added Paul Drew. "He deliberately collided with you, Dick." "Oh, no; I hardly think he would do that!" "But he did," insisted Butler. "He didn't need to gallop in front of you that way. I looked just as if he wanted to unseat you, didn't it, fellows?" "That's right," added Paul. "I'd report him if I were you." "Oh, no," answered Dick quickly. "There's no use making trouble. Even if he did do it on purpose, I wouldn't gain anything by reporting him. I'm no squealer." "But you might have been badly hurt," said Butler. "I wasn't though, and a miss is as good as a mile." "That's a good way of looking at it," commented Paul. "I'd feel like fighting him, if he did that to me." "Say, I'm all right. There's no need for you fellows to come back with me," went on Dick. "If we don't Dutton may make a row," objected Butler. "We'd better do it." Not wanting to get his fellow cadets into trouble, Dick allowed them to accompany him to the hospital, which was maintained by the academy. There the surgeon in charge, a grizzled war veteran, felt of our hero's bones, and announced, gruffly, that he was all right, but that he had better rest a while. Which Dick was glad enough to do, as his head was beginning to ache. "Dutton must want to get rid of me," he thought, as he stretched out on the bed in his room. "If he keeps on I shall certainly have a clash with him, and then I s'pose there'll be trouble. I don't want to fight, but I'm not going to submit to his meanness. I certainly am under a handicap here. I wish I could ask dad to send me to some other school. No, I don't either. I'll fight it out here, and I'll win, too, or I'll know the reason why!" Major Webster, when he returned from the drill, inquired how Dick felt, and received the assurance that the lad was all right. "We must give you a quieter horse," he said with a smile. "Oh, no, I can manage him all right," said Dick. "Captain Dutton--er--he and I happened to collide, or it never would have happened." "Strange, Dutton is an excellent rider," commented the major as he walked away. A slight headache the next day was all the ill effect that Dick experienced from his tumble. He appeared at chapel, and took part in all the day's duties. For a week or more life went on rather uneventfully at the academy. Dick had a letter from his father, stating that business was likely to keep him abroad longer than he expected. Dick also got a letter from Henry Darby, giving some news of Hamilton Corners, and telling how Dick's chums missed him. The letter closed with this: "Grit misses you very much. He doesn't eat hardly anything, and he lies in his kennel all day." "Poor Grit," said Dick to Paul, and he told of his bulldog. "I wish I could have him here with me." "Why don't you?" suggested his roommate. "Some of the other cadets are allowed special privileges, why don't you ask if you can bring Grit here? You could keep him in the stable." "I believe I will," said Dick, and he sought and received permission from Colonel Masterly to do this. A few days later Grit arrived, and he was probably the happiest dog living, as Dick took him out of the shipping crate. The animal bounded about, and fairly leaped over his master's head in the excess of his joy. Grit made friends with such few chums as Dick had among the freshmen, and they were not many, for Dutton's influence seemed even to extend to them. The advent of the bulldog appeared to further arouse the ire of the young captain. "I expect our millionaire cadet will be having a private menagerie next," he said with a sneer. "But I tell you one thing, Hamilton, if I catch the brute around my quarters I'll kick him out." "I shouldn't advise you to try it," said Dick coolly. "It might not be healthy--for you." "Do you mean that you'd attack me?" asked Dutton, taking a step toward Dick. "No, but Grit might; eh, Grit, old boy." The dog growled in a menacing manner, and Dutton, turning on his heel, made off up the campus, but the scowl he gave Dick augured anything but well for the young millionaire. It was about a week after this when, one evening, Dick, who was sitting in his room, studying with Paul, suddenly exclaimed: "There, I've left my algebra out under the three elms. I was studying there this afternoon." The three elms were a clump of giant trees on the campus, and a recognized stamping ground for the freshmen, who frequently studied there, when it was too hot in their rooms. "Better go out and get it," advised Paul. "It looks like rain, and you know it means a demerit to have soiled books." "Guess I'll slip out and get it," decided Dick. "I'll have just about time enough before taps." He started down the long corridor, but he had not taken a dozen steps before taps was sounded on the bugle, the plaintive call of "lights out" vibrating clearly on the night air. "Better come back," advised Paul, from the open door of their room, as he prepared to turn out the electric lamp. "No, I think I'll chance it," decided Dick. "No one is likely to see me, and I might as well get a demerit for this as for having a rain-soaked algebra. Leave the door open so I can find the place in the dark." He kept on, stealing quietly down the hall. Paul went to bed, and was just dozing off when he was startled by the loud report of the cannon used for firing the sunrise and sunset guns. The echoes thundered among the academy buildings, and were re-echoed from the distant hills. Paul arose. Clearly some of the cadets were up to a trick, and had fired the gun. A few minutes later Dick came running into the room. "Did you get the book? Who fired the gun?" asked Paul in a whisper. "Yes, I got the algebra, and, just as I did the gun went off. I saw some of the fellows running, and of course I was running too, but, just as I was coming in, Stiver, who is doing guard duty, saw me." "What did he say?" "Called to me halt, but I didn't." "He'll report you, and you may be blamed for--" An instant later the tramp of feet was heard in the corridor. "It's inspection!" gasped Paul. "Undress quick, and get into bed!" CHAPTER X DICK HAS A FIGHT But it was too late. The door of Dick's room was pushed open, and, in the light of the incandescent that burned in the hall, the two cadets could see Captain Hayden and several of the instructors looking in. "Hamilton--Drew--are you here?" asked Captain Hayden sharply. "Yes, sir," replied Dick, but an instant later the light revealed him fully dressed, whereas he should have been in bed at taps. "Ha!" exclaimed the head master. "This will bear investigation. Why aren't you in bed, Hamilton?" "I went down to get my algebra, which I left under the elms." "Did you have anything to do with firing the saluting gun?" "No, sir." "I will have to investigate. Report in my room in ten minutes." Captain Hayden marched on, and the two cadets could hear distant sounds that indicated a general inspection of quarters. "I guess you're in for it, Dick," said Paul. "I can prove what I went out for." "Maybe. But I wonder who fired that gun?" "I don't know. Some of the older cadets likely. Well, I s'pose I've got to go to Captain Hayden's room." Dick found several other students gathered in the reception apartment of the head master. They were lads who had been found still up when their rooms were hurriedly entered after the blowing of taps, and the firing of the gun. "Who was captain of the guard?" asked Captain Hayden, when he came in and faced a rather frightened lot of cadets. "I was, sir," replied John Stiver. "What did you see?" "I was on duty, sir, near the main entrance of the south barracks, and the first I knew I saw the flash of the gun, and heard it go off." "What else did you see?" "I saw a cadet run from the campus into the barracks. He would not halt when I called to him." "Who was it?" "I don't like to say, sir." "Very likely not, but you must." "It was--it was Hamilton, sir." "Ha!" exclaimed the head master. "I went to the three elms to get my algebra which I had forgotten," said Dick. "After taps?" "Yes, sir." "Then you broke one of the rules." "Yes, sir, but I thought that if it rained, and my book got wet, I'd get a demerit for that, so I decided I would take a chance on going after taps. I started before the bugle sounded." "Ha! I will look into that afterward. You are sure you were not near the gun?" "Yes, sir." "I might add," went on Stiver, "that, after I called to Hamilton to halt, and he would not, I saw his dog running after him, and the animal seemed to have something tied to its tail." "To it's tail?" "Yes, sir." "What was it?" "It seemed like a piece of string." "A piece of string. That may explain it. Hamilton, what do you know of this?" "Nothing, Captain Hayden. Grit was not with me. I left him in his kennel, in the stable, chained up." "We must look into this. Lieutenant Stiver, tell Sander to bring the bulldog here." "Perhaps I had better go along," suggested Dick. "Grit might make a fuss." "If he goes, you had better make sure he doesn't slip the string off the dog's tail," put in Dutton, with a sneer. Dick started, and looked angrily at his enemy. "That will do, Dutton," said Captain Hayden quietly. "You may accompany Sander, Hamilton." Toots, who was on hand, started for the stables, followed by Dick. "Are you going to get into trouble?" asked the old man, who had taken quite a fancy to our hero. "I hope not. If Grit had anything to do with firing the gun, by means of a string tied to his tail, some one who had a grudge against me is responsible for it." "I'm sure of it, Mr. Hamilton," and Toots marched on, whistling "Dixy Land," ending up with a series of bugle calls. They found Grit cowering in his kennel, as if much frightened. Dick and Toots looked him over. Sure enough there was a stout piece of cord tied to his stump of a tail. "It looks bad," commented Toots. "I'm not worried," declared Dick. Captain Hayden looked grave, when Toots handed him the bit of cord. He sent Sander to the saluting gun, and Toots returned presently with same cord, which matched that taken from Grit's tail. "Was this on the gun?" asked the head master. "Attached to a primer, that had been fired," replied Toots. "Hamilton," began Captain Hayden, "I don't like to accuse you on such circumstantial evidence, but it looks--" "I had nothing to do with firing the gun," said Dick quickly. "If my dog did it, some one else tied the string to his tail." "Whom do you suspect?" "I don't know." "If you please, sir," spoke up Graham, "I don't think Hamilton had anything to do with firing the gun." "Why not?" "Because my window is right opposite it. I was looking out, just before it went off, and I saw a crowd of students near it. They had a dog, for I could hear him growl, and I heard some one say 'look out or the brute will put his teeth in you.' Then some one else said, 'I guess I can manage him.' If Hamilton had been there I don't believe Grit would have growled." "He certainly would not," said Dick, noticing that Dutton was scowling at Graham. "Ha! Hum," mused the head master. "I believe you are right, Graham. Hamilton, you are practically exonerated, but this matter will not be allowed to drop. Firing the gun was a serious infraction of the rules, and dangerous in the bargain. Whoever fired it must have stolen into the ammunition house, which is a risky thing to do, especially in the dark." "I am glad you don't think I did it, sir," said Dick to Captain Hayden. "I am glad, also, but I shall have to mark you five off for being out after taps. When I find out who fired the gun I shall punish them severely. It seems as though it was done to throw suspicion on you." "That is what I think," said Dick quickly. "Whom do you suspect?" "I had rather not say, sir." "Of course not, no, I wouldn't want you to on mere suspicion. You young gentlemen may retire to your rooms, now. I will look into this matter further." The cadets filed out, all of them breathing easier. As Dutton passed Dick in the hall, he said: "Did you refer to me when you said you suspected some one?" "Not particularly." "You looked at me," said the cadet captain angrily. "Well, a cat may look at a king, I suppose." "None of your impertinence." "I'm not impertinent, but I don't propose to have you dictate to me." "You'll have to, as long as you're a freshman. I say you intimated that I fired that gun and tried to throw the blame on you." "I can't help what you say." "Do you believe I did it?" "I refuse to answer." "Then I'll make you! Take that!" and before Dick could step back Dutton had hit him a blow in the face. "You know what that means, I suppose," said Dutton with a sneer. "A fight?" asked Dick quietly. "Of course. I'll send a friend to you to-morrow and we'll see if you'll back up your words." "Don't worry. I'll be on hand," replied Dick, as he went to his room. He told Paul of what had happened, and the latter consented to act as second to him in the fight. The matter was quietly arranged, and, the next afternoon Dick, and the few chums he had, slipped off after the evening parade to a secluded spot, where all the fistic battles of the academy took place. Dutton and a large throng of his supporters were on hand, and the preliminaries were soon settled. "Time!" called Lieutenant Stiver, who acted as Dutton's second. The two youths faced each other, but dispensed with the ceremony of shaking hands. The next moment Dutton aimed a blow at Dick's face, but our hero cleverly dodged and sent a stiff right hander to the cadet captain's jaw. CHAPTER XI DICK GIVES A SPREAD The shock of the blow made Dutton stagger back, but he quickly regained his balance, and rushed at Dick, raising his foot to give him a kick. "Hold on, that's not fair!" cried Paul. "Do you stand for that, Stiver?" Stiver plainly wanted to side with Dutton, but there were cries of "Shame! That's not fair!" from several in the crowd and Dutton's second was forced to caution his man. "Don't do that, Dutton," he said. "You can lick him with your fists." "Yes, and I'll fix him, all right!" exclaimed the angry cadet captain. Dick, who had stepped back, out of reach of his opponent's foot, now stood up to meet the rush of Dutton. "There! I guess that will teach you to make insinuations about me!" spluttered the angry lad, as he aimed a fierce blow at Dick. Our hero easily dodged it, however, and countered with a stiff upper cut, which gave Dutton quite a jolt. Dick was not quite quick enough in getting away, however, and received a blow on the chest, which he did not mind, much. Then Dutton closed in, and both boys exchanged several severe blows, but Dick had the best of it, for he had taken boxing lessons from an experienced instructor at home. "Go in and do him!" called Dutton's friends. "Stand up to him, Dick," advised Paul, in low tones at the conclusion of the first round. "You've got him going." Dutton tried to be calm as he came up the second time, but he speedily lost his temper, as he saw how easily Dick parried his blows. "Why don't you stand up and fight?" he asked. "Why don't you hit me?" retorted Dick, as he tapped his antagonist on the nose, making it bleed slightly. "I'll pay you for that!" cried Dutton, rushing forward. "Not so loud!" cautioned Stiver. "You'll bring some of the professors down on us." Once more Dick dodged a straight left hander, and, in return, sent in a terrific right, that caught Dutton on the point of the jaw. The cadet went down like a log, and lay still. "You've knocked him out, Hamilton," remarked one of the older cadets, who acted as referee. "I congratulate you." "Yes, he fought well," added another, but there was no heartiness in his tones, and, to Dick, it seemed almost as if they were sorry he had won. For won he had, as Dutton did not arise. He had been fairly, but harmlessly, knocked out. "Do you throw up the sponge?" asked Paul, of Stiver. "I guess so," was the rather surly response. "Your man wins." "I hope I didn't hurt him," said Dick. "I didn't mean to hit so hard, but he rushed right into it." "You didn't hurt me!" suddenly exclaimed Dutton, as he struggled to his feet. "I'm game yet." "You've had enough," said his second. "You can have another try later." "I can do him," mumbled Dutton, but even his friends were forced to admit that he had been well beaten. "Will you shake hands?" asked Dick, advancing toward his antagonist. "No!" exclaimed Dutton, surlily. A hot flush came to Dick's face, and he was about to turn away when, the older cadet, who had complimented him said: "Shake hands, Dutton. Don't be a cad." This was equivalent to a command, and Dutton grudingly complied. "Do you think he will be better friends with you after this?" asked Paul, as he and Dick walked away together. "I hope so, but I doubt it." Dick was right. Though he had gained the victory he had whipped one of the most popular cadets, which Dutton was, in spite of his caddishness. Our hero's victory took nothing away from the regard in which Dutton was held, while, as for Dick, save a few friends whom he had made among the younger lads, he was not admitted to the comradeship of the older cadets, to which place, of right, he belonged. The fight had not made him popular, as he had hoped it would, after he had won it, though the sporting element in the academy could not but admire his fistic abilities. "I don't seem to be making much progress," remarked Dick to his roommate, one afternoon. "You have more friends than I have." "Oh, I don't think so." "Yes, you have. It would be different, if I was at home, but here, everyone seems to follow Dutton's lead, and turns a cold shoulder to me." "Maybe you'll have more acquaintances next term." "I doubt it. I wish I could get in with the fellows. They'll be making up the football eleven, soon, and I'd like a chance to play." "Do you play?" "I did at home. I was right half-back. But I don't s'pose I'll have any show here." "I tell you what you might do," said Paul, after a pause. "Why don't you give a spread?" "A spread?" "Yes, a feast, you know. You can get permission to have it in one of the rooms, and you can invite a lot of the fellows. Several of the new fellows have done that, and some of them got proposed for membership in the Sacred Pig society." This was one of the exclusive secret organizations of the academy, and Dick, as well as many others, wished to join. But one had to be invited to apply for membership, and only those students on whom the seal of approval was set by the older cadets had this honor. "Do you think that would do any good?" asked Dick. "It might." "Then I'll try. Here's a chance where I can use some of my money. If this plan doesn't work, I have another that I'll spring." "What is it?" "Well, I don't want to say yet. I may want to get you to help me at it, though." "I'll do anything I can." "I know you will, Paul. I wish there were more like you." Dick obtained permission from Colonel Masterly to give a spread in one of the barrack rooms, and he made elaborate preparations for it. A town caterer was given orders to supply a fine supper, and then Dick sent out his invitations. He included all the lads in his class, and every member of the so-called "sporting crowd." "Are you going to invite Dutton?" asked Paul. "Of course. I want him more than all the others. If he would drop his hard feelings we could be friends." "After he tried to get you into trouble about your dog, and the firing of the cannon?" "Do you think he did?" "I'm sure of it, and so are lots of others." "Captain Hayden can't seem to find out anything about it." "No, because all of Dutton's cronies are keeping mum. But I'm sure he did it." "Well, I'll forgive him, if he'll be friends. I got even by whipping him, I guess." "Perhaps, though I don't believe he thinks so." Dick received acceptances from nearly all the lads in his class, but regarding the others he heard nothing, and did not know whether they would come or not. He hoped they would--particularly Dutton and his chums. On the afternoon of the evening on which Dick's spread was to come off, he met Dutton and Stiver on the campus. "Let's see, isn't your spread to-morrow night?" asked Stiver, with studied carelessness. "It's to-night," said Dick, pleasantly. "I hope you are both coming." "I'll see," answered Stiver. "Is there going to be anything to drink?" asked Dutton with a covert sneer. "Lemonade," replied Dick promptly. "Is that all? I should think a millionaire cadet like you would provide champagne; or at least beer." "It's against the rules," said Dick. "Then you'll have some cigars." "No." "Cigarettes then?" "No." "I suppose you'll give us malted milk and crackers," sneered Dutton, as he turned aside. "I don't think that will suit us. Eh, Stiver?" "No indeed. I thought you wanted to be a sport, Hamilton?" "I don't care about breaking rules," replied Dick. "Besides, I don't use tobacco or liquor." "Ah, he's a regular Sunday school brand of millionaire," remarked Dutton, with a mean laugh. "He gives his money to the heathen, instead of buying cigars. Come on, Stiver." At Dick's spread, that night, only a few freshmen came, and, though they tried to be jolly, the affair was a dismal failure, after the elaborate preparations that had been made. None of Dutton's friends came, and not a member of the sporting element. "Dutton told 'em to stay away," said Paul, as he and Dick went to their room, after it was all over. "I suppose so," answered Dick gloomily, and there was a heavy feeling in his heart, that the thought of all his wealth could not lighten. He was beginning to realize what it meant to fulfill the conditions of his mother's will. CHAPTER XII AN ANGRY FARMER "Say, Dick," remarked Paul, the next morning, as they leaped out of bed at the sound of the bugle giving the first call, "that spread must have cost you a pretty penny." "I don't mind that a bit," replied the young millionaire, as he struggled into his uniform. "I'd be willing to spend a lot more if only the fellows would have come. But there's no use crying over spilled milk, as my dad says. Hurry up, Paul. Get this room in shape, or we'll be in for some bad marks at inspection." The cadets quickly had their apartment in good order, and then got ready for breakfast. They were a fine lot of cadets who filed into the mess hall a little later, well set-up young fellows, each with his uniform spick and span, marching with regular step that nearly approached the perfection of the trained soldier. For, such was the discipline at Kentfield, that even green lads quickly fell into the routine, and by this time Dick and the other freshmen carried themselves almost as well as did the senior students. "Ah, that'll be some fun," remarked Paul, as they were leaving the mess-hall after the meal. "What?" asked Dick. "Target practice. There's a notice on the bulletin board that we're to have it right after the first study period. Are you a good shot?" "I used to be, but the guns here are heavier than I'm accustomed to. I don't believe I can do as well." "Oh, I guess you can. I hear that some of the third year lads can't do very extra." There were two target ranges at Kentfield, one for long distance shooting, in the open, and the other in a rifle pit, indoors. It was there that a number of the cadets and their officers assembled a little later. Toots, who was a sort of janitor about the pits, was on hand. "Ah, Toots, going to show us how to shoot to-day?" asked a student. "Sure," replied Sam. "I'll give you a few lessons. Lend me your gun." "Here you go, Tootsy old chap," added another cadet, passing over his rifle. As all the cadets had not yet arrived discipline was rather lax, and the officers made no objection. "Here's where I crack the bullseye first shot!" exclaimed Toots. He handled the gun as though he had long been used to it, and took quick aim. A sharp report followed, but there was no corresponding "ping" of the target to indicate a shot. "Ha! Ha! Toots, you missed it altogether," cried Russell Glen, a first-year and somewhat sporty student in Dick's class. "No, I didn't neither!" objected Sam. "It went clean through the target, that's why you didn't hear it. I'm a crack shot I am." He really appeared to believe it, and was much disappointed when the marker called back that the bullet had gone about a foot over the target. "Try again, Toots," said Glen. "I will. This time I'll go right in the center." Once more he fired, and the resulting laugh told that he had again missed. "I guess this is your off day," observed Captain Dutton. "Looks like it," remarked Toots ruefully, as he walked off, whistling "In a Prison Cell I Sit," and ending with the bugle call to charge. The target practice soon began, and Dick, to his own surprise, made a good score, getting forty-nine out of a possible fifty. "We have decided to have a practice march, around the lake, to-morrow," Major Webster announced to the cadets after target practice was over. "Fatigue uniforms of khaki will be worn, and the affair will last all day. Lunch will be taken in the field. You know the regulations, Captain Dutton, so inform your command of them, and be ready after reveille to-morrow." The major paused, Captain Dutton saluted, and his superior officer turned away, his sword clanking at his heels. "A practice march!" exclaimed Paul to Dick. "That will be sport." "It sure will," added Dick. "Silence in the ranks;" cried Dutton, in a dictatorial manner. "Lieutenant Stiver, watch Hamilton, I think he talks altogether too much." It was an unjust accusation, but Dick knew better than to answer back. That afternoon further instructions were issued regarding the practice march. The cadets would take one ration with them, and a wagon containing utensils for making coffee, etc., would accompany the amateur soldiers. They would have their rifles with them, and, during the day would have practice in skirmish firing, in throwing up trenches, and advancing on an imaginary enemy. They started off soon after breakfast, led by Colonel Masterly, Major Rockford and Major Webster, while the cadet officers were in charge of the four companies, A, B, C and D. It was a fine day in October, just right for a march, and the cadets presented a neat appearance, as, headed by the superior officers on horseback, they marched along the shores of the lake, off towards a wooded plain. The boys were attired in blue flannel shirts, khaki trousers and leggings. "I hope they have more of these hikes before winter," remarked Paul to Dick. "'Hike?' is that what you call 'em?" "That's what the regulars do. It's a good name, I think." "It sure is. Say, you get a fine view of the lake here." The boys talked on, for there were no rules against it, and the experience of the march was a new one for many of them, including Dick. They reached some suitable ground about ten o'clock and on orders from Major Webster the companies were formed into one command, under his direction. Then, an imaginary enemy having been located in a clump of woodland, the cadets were sent forward on the run, in skirmish parties, firing at will, and in volleys. "Advance, and form trenches!" suddenly ordered the major. The lads, using their bayonets as spades, and scooping the dirt up with their hands, soon formed shallow ditches, with an embankment of earth in front, and, lying prone behind this, ruthlessly mowed down the ranks of the enemy who still refused to show himself. The rattle and bang of the rifles, the clouds of smoke, the flashes of fire, mingled with the hoarse commands of the major who was a war veteran; the rushing forward of the cadets, and their activity in digging trenches, made the scene one of excitement. It was glorious sport, Dick thought. Tired, dusty and warm, though willing to keep at this war game indefinitely, the young soldiers finally reached the edge of the woods, where, having dislodged the enemy, they were conceded to have won a victory, and the march was again taken up. A halt for dinner was made beside a little brook. Toots, who had charge of the provision wagon brought it up, and proceeded to build fires to make coffee. "Toots, you old scoundrel," affectionately exclaimed a senior cadet, "did you bring the cream for my coffee?" "Yes, Mr. Morton. I brought a jug full," replied Toots, who entered into the spirit of the fun. "And I want a white table cloth," stipulated another. "I've got one up my sleeve," answered Toots, busying himself about the wagon. Campfires were soon ablaze, and the appetizing smell of coffee and steaks filled the air. The cadets opened their haversacks, and were preparing to eat, having formed into little informal groups, each company by itself. "Say, Stiver," remarked Dutton, to his lieutenant, looking at a field of late sweet corn, which was near where they were camped, "I'd like a few of those ears to roast. How about you?" "Sure's you're a foot high; but you know the orders. Mustn't do any foraging." "Ah, what's the rule between friends? Besides, Colonel Masterly and Major Webster are away over on the other side of the woods. Send some of the freshmen after some corn." "I'm not going to. You can if you want to." "I will. Here, Boardman, you and Booker and Hamilton go and get some of that green corn." "I'll not," replied Dick promptly, who knew that this refusal to obey his superior officer would be upheld, if, indeed, Dutton would dare prefer a charge against him. "Afraid, eh?" sneered the young captain. "Very well, then, you take Hamilton's place, Butler." The three lads designated, either being afraid to incur Dutton's displeasure, or because they wanted some of the corn, quietly sneaked into the field, and quickly returned with big armsful, which were soon put to roast, the husks being concealed under the leaves in the woods. "Maybe, you'll have some?" asked Dutton, in sneering tones, of Dick, as the captain and his cronies began eating the roast corn. "No thank you. Not that I don't like it, but I prefer to get it another way." Dick felt that he was putting himself further than ever beyond the pale of his comrades' liking by his conduct, but he could not help it. The lunch was almost over, and most of the corn had disappeared, when an elderly man, evidently a farmer, crawled through the fence near where Dick's company was. There was an angry look on his face. "Which of you lads stole my corn?" he demanded. "And besides that you trampled down a lot. Who done it? That's what I want to know." There was no need to answer. The evidences of the stolen corn were all about. "I'm going to report this to Colonel Masterly," said the farmer, striding off toward where the superintendent was talking to the two majors. CHAPTER XIII A NARROW ESCAPE "Hold on!" cried Dutton, springing to his feet. "Wait a minute, Mr.--er--Mr.--" "No, you can't come any game like that over me!" cried the angry farmer. "You stole my corn, and trampled a lot of it down. That's agin orders, an' I know it. I'll report to your superior officers, and we'll see how you'll like it." "But--er--but I say--" stammered Dutton, wishing he could do something to placate the man, for he knew that all the blame would fall on him, and that he would be severely dealt with; perhaps reduced to the ranks. "No. I'll not listen to you," replied the farmer. "I'm going to report to Colonel Masterly." "Now look at the mess you've got us into, Dutton," said Stiver. "Why couldn't you let the corn alone." "Shut up!" retorted the cadet captain. "I say, Mr.--Mr. Farmer," he called after the man. "My name's not Farmer, but I know what yours will be; it'll be Mud, soon. I'll teach you tin soldiers to spoil my corn." There were murmurs among the cadets. They feared lest the whole company might be punished. But a scheme had come into Dick Hamilton's mind. Without asking permission from Dutton he hurried after the farmer. "How much will pay for the damage to your corn, and what the boys took," he asked quietly, holding out a roll of bills, for Dick never was without a substantial sum. "Now you're talking, sonny," said the farmer, a different look coming into his face. "Why didn't that captain of yours say so at first?" "What's the damage?" asked Dick. From experience he had learned that cash will make up for almost any kind of a hurt. "Wa'al, seein' as that was particularly fine corn, I'll have to charge you ten dollars for what ye took, and what damage ye done." "Ten dollars! That's too much!" cried Paul Drew. "Don't pay it, Dick." "Wa'al, then I'll see the colonel. I guess he'll pay that, rather than have his school sued," said the angry man. "Here are ten dollars," said Dick quietly, handing over a bill. "I guess the boys found the corn worth it," he added with a smile. "That's all right," said the farmer, as he pocketed the money. "I wouldn't 'a made a fuss if I'd a knowed you was goin' to pay for it. I'm reasonable, I am." "Not at selling corn," murmured Paul, as the man went back into his field. "Hurrah for Hamilton!" cried several cadets, who realized what Dick's action meant for them. "He's all right." "He got us out of a bad scrape," observed Lieutenant Stiver. "My record won't stand many more demerits." But instead of thanking Dick, Dutton turned aside. He acted as if he disliked to be under any obligations to the cadet who he so unreasonably hated. "Hamilton wanted to show off, and let us see that he had money," said the captain, contemptuously. "I suppose we ought to vote him a medal--a gold one, studded with diamonds, seeing that he's a millionaire." "That's not right, Ray," murmured Stiver in a low tone. "He's got us out of a hole." "I don't care! I wish he'd take himself out of this academy. We don't want millionaires here." Probably most of Dutton's feeling toward Dick, was due to jealousy, for Ray's father, though wealthy, was far from being as rich as Mr. Hamilton. Dick bit his lip, to keep back a sharp reply at the unjust construction put upon his act. "I shouldn't do anything for him again," whispered Paul. "Well, I did it for the whole company, as much as for him," replied the young millionaire. "In another minute Colonel Masterly would have heard the row, and there'd been the mischief to pay." The march was resumed after dinner and academy was reached in time for supper. The cadets were much pleased with their practice "hike," while the officers were complimented on the order they had maintained. "I guess the colonel would preach a different sort of a sermon if he knew about the corn," remarked Paul, as he and Dick started for their quarters. "Well, as long as he doesn't know, there's no harm done." "My, but I'm tired," announced Paul, as he undressed. "I'm glad we don't have any lessons to-morrow." "What do we have?" "Artillery drill. Have you forgotten?" "That's so. I had. I've got to ride one of the leading horses too. Guess there'll be plenty of excitement." "Shouldn't wonder. I'm on the gun-carriage, where I reckon I'll be shaken so my liver pin will fall out." "I'll try not to let it. There go taps. Douse the glim." The two cadets crawled into bed and were soon asleep. Artillery drill at the Kentfield academy was as near like the real article as possible. The guns were four-inch field pieces, each drawn by six horses, the two leaders being ridden by cadets, while seven men were on the gun itself, an arrangement somewhat different from that in the regular army. Real ammunition was used in practice, the pieces being directed at target placed against a hill of soft dirt, in which the balls buried themselves. The artillery practice began soon after morning inspection. The cadets had all been instructed in how to load, aim and fire the field pieces, and had also had practice in driving the artillery into place. For the first time, however, they were now to indulge in this under the critical eye of an officer from the regular army, who was visiting the academy. The first part of the drill consisted in firing at targets, before horses were hitched to the guns. The cadets did well at this, the different squads making good scores. Dick, who was detailed at the breech, had a chance to aim. He thought he sighted perfectly, but when it was fired the ball did not hit the target cleanly. It was the last shot in that particular part of the tactics, and it left Dick's squad with the lowest record. "That's all your fault, Hamilton!" cried Captain Dutton angrily. "Why didn't you aim that right? Then we'd have had a chance to make a good score." "I did aim it right, but the gun must have shifted. Maybe one of the wheels was on a small stone." "Nonsense. It's your stupidity. You've lost us a good mark." Dutton angrily slammed the breech-block shut. Dick gave a start, but stifled the cry of pain that he was ready to give utterance to, for one of his fingers was caught in the breech, and the blood spurted from it, as the angry captain closed the gun. "Open the breech! Quick!" cried Paul, who had seen what had happened. "What's that?" asked Dutton, who had turned aside. Dick's roommate did not answer. Instead he took hold of the block with both hands, and wrenched it open, releasing our hero, whose white face showed the pain he suffered. "Sorry I hurt you," said Dutton, calmly. "You shouldn't have had your finger there. I suppose you can't drive now, in the next test." "I'll drive," said Dick, grimly, as he bound his handkerchief tightly around his finger, to stop the bleeding. The nail was smashed, and it was very painful. "Then hurry up, and get the horses. They're ready to begin." This test was a difficult one. In turn the different gun squads were to approach a certain spot on the gallop. They were to go through a narrow passage, indicated by stakes stuck into the ground, and, at the end were to suddenly wheel the gun, fire three shots, and continue on at a gallop to the end of the course. If any of the stakes were touched it counted against the squad, and other points were won or lost by the speed and accuracy of firing. In spite of his pain Dick mounted his horse, and was soon ready, with 'Gene Graham, who was to ride the other steed, to start off with the field piece. A squad from Company B went first. They cleared the stakes nicely, and did good work in wheeling and firing. "I hope we beat them," murmured Captain Dutton, who was on the gun carriage. Dick grimly resolved that if he had anything to do with it they would. Company C's team came next, and did well, but the off horse struck a stake. "Don't let that happen, Hamilton," cautioned Captain Dutton, as it came their turn. Dick and Graham urged their animals to a gallop, and with a deep rumble the gun followed after them. On and on they went, toward the narrow lane formed by the upright stakes. Dick's heart was beating hard as he neared them. Would he clear them? With unerring eye the young millionaire guided his animal, and so did Graham. With folded arms, and almost as stiff as ramrods, the cadets sat on the gun carriage. The leading horses were at the first stakes now, but the real test would come when the wide gun carriage reached them. "Go on!" yelled Dick to his horse, a swift pace being most essential in order to keep on a straight course. Dick gave a glance back. One wheel seemed about to hit a stake, but he quickly swerved his horse and the danger was averted. They got through without touching, and at a swifter pace than had any of their competitors. A burst of cheers from the watching cadets, and some visitors, rewarded them. "Careful now!" cautioned Captain Dutton, as Dick wheeled his horse about. Whether the animal was frightened at the cheering, or whether Dick, because of his injured finger, did not have a proper hold of the reins, was never known but, at that instant, the horse suddenly swerved, turning almost at right angles, and pulling off the course. So quickly was it done that it seemed as if the gun and carriage would upset, injuring several of the lads. But Dick was equal to the occasion. Though the strain, which he had to put on the reins hurt his wounded hand very much, he never flinched. With a steady pull, and a sharp word of command, he swung his horse's head around, and just in time to avoid sending the gun over sideways. Then, with a smart blow of his hand on the animal's flank Dick set him to a sharp gallop. Graham's steed, which had been pulled from his stride, regained it, and the horses behind, straightening out of the confusion into which they had been thrown, leaped forward, pulling the rumbling gun after them. Through it all, and in spite of their narrow escape, the cadets on the carriage had not so much as unfolded their arms. On toward the place where they were to fire Dick and Graham rushed their horses. A moment later they wheeled them, the cadets leaped down, the gun was unlimbered, a shot rammed home, and the men stood at attention. "Fire!" cried Captain Dutton. A puff of white smoke, a sliver of flame and then a deep boom, while a black ball was hurled toward the distant target. Twice more this was repeated, and then the gun was limbered, or attached to the limber, the forward part of the carriage, and the horses galloped off with it. Dick's squad had made a perfect score, in spite of the actions of his horse, and the cadets that came after them failed, so Captain Dutton's men won in the test. But Dick felt sick and faint from the pain in his finger which had started to bleeding again, because of the strain caused by the reins. CHAPTER XIV CAPTAIN HANDLEE'S VISIT "Very well done, young gentlemen--very well done indeed," complimented Colonel Masterly, as Dick and his fellow cadets came driving slowly past where the head of the academy sat with some visitors, and the army officer. "Indeed, the regulars will have to look to their laurels when such lads as these are doing as well as that," observed the officer. "I thought they were going to have a spill there, at one time. But the lad on the off horse saved the day. Who is he?" "Millionaire Hamilton's son," said the superintendent in a low voice, yet not so low but that Dick heard him. "I wish they wouldn't refer to me that way," he thought. "I'd like to be myself once in a while--just Dick Hamilton. Money isn't what it's cracked up to be." "Why, Hamilton, are you hurt?" asked Major Webster, as Dick guided his horse to the place where the animals would be unhitched. He looked at the red-stained handkerchief around the young millionaire's hand. "Just a scratch," replied Dick bravely, though the pain of his crushed finger made him wince. "I caught it in the gun. It doesn't amount to anything." He saw Dutton looking at him, and he fancied he detected a sneer on the cadet captain's face. "Well, go to the surgeon, and have it dressed," said the major. "We don't want you to get blood poison. Is yours the only injury of the day?" "I guess so," replied Dick, with an attempted laugh. "A scratch!" exclaimed the surgeon, when Dick had so characterized the wound, as he came to have it dressed. "Well, I wouldn't want many scratches like that. Why the top of the finger is crushed. You shouldn't have kept on after you got this." "I'd have to if we were fighting in earnest," was all Dick said, and he gritted his teeth hard to keep from screaming out when the surgeon dressed the wound. Fortunately the remainder of the week was devoted to the more quieter forms of military life, the cadets spending considerable time in studying, drilling and reciting. One afternoon word was sent to Dick, who was studying in his room, that a visitor desired to see him. "Who is it?" he asked the housekeeper, who brought the message. "I don't know. It's a gentleman from Hamilton Corners." "I hope it's some of the boys," murmured Dick. "Or even a sight of 'Hank' Darby would be welcome," for, in spite of the activities at Kentfield, Dick was a bit homesick. He found waiting for him Captain Handlee. "I come to see if you had any news of my son," said the veteran pitifully. "I'm about to go out west on a clue I have, but I thought I'd stop off here." "No," replied Dick, "I'm sorry, but I haven't any news for you. I wrote you about my inquiries." "Yes, I know, but I hoped something might have happened since then." "No, I regret to say, there hasn't. But how does it come that you're going out west?" "Well, I have an idea I can get some clues there. I'm going to look up some old soldiers who were in my son's company. Your father gave me the money to go." "My father? Is he home?" asked Dick quickly, hoping his parent had unexpectedly returned from abroad. "Oh, no. He gave it to me before he left. I mentioned that I'd like to go out west, and he gave me a good sum. I don't know what I'd do but for him." "When are you going west?" asked Dick. "Right away. I guess I'd better be leaving here now." "If you have any time to spare, captain, perhaps you'd like to stay and see the cadets go through some drills." "I think I would, if the commander will let me." "Of course he will. Old soldiers are always welcome here. We're going to have some wall-scaling drills just before parade this evening. I'd like to have you stay and see them." "I will, thanks." Dick spoke to Colonel Masterly about Captain Handlee, and the veteran not only received a cordial invitation to remain, but was taken in charge by Major Webster, who asked him to occupy his quarters, and take his meals there. The wall-scaling drills were always enjoyed by the cadets as they offered chances for rough and ready fun. The walls were structures of boards, between ten and fifteen feet high, placed on the open field, and the object was for the lads, by means of a pyramid formation, to get all their comrades over the top, while the men left behind, who had assisted their fellows over, would either scramble up by means of a rope, anchored by lads on the other side, or would be pulled up by their comrades who leaned over the high fence. CHAPTER XV ON THE GRIDIRON When the exercises for the day were over, Dick sought out Captain Handlee, and inquired how he liked the wall-scaling. "Fine! Fine!" exclaimed the veteran. "We never had such practice when I was in the army, but we did pretty near the same in real life. I remember one occasion at Chancellorsville--" "Now Captain Handlee," interrupted Major Webster, who had constituted himself host to the veteran, "you keep all such stories for me. If you get telling them to the cadets, first thing I know I'll have to be providing big brick walls for them to scale." He led the veteran away, the aged captain bidding good-bye to Dick. "I hope you'll be successful on your trip," said the young millionaire. "I hope so, too, Dick, for I miss my son more and more as I grow older." In spite of the good record he made in the drills, at artillery practice and in his class, Dick found as the weeks went by, that he was making no progress in becoming popular with the main body of students at Kentfield. He had a few chums among the freshmen, and of course was on speaking terms with all the others, but aside from Paul Drew, his roommate, he had no close friends. This state of affairs made him feel sad, for at home he had been the most popular lad in town. "I'm not succeeding as I thought I would," he said to himself, one day. "I guess I'll have to put my plan into operation. But perhaps I'd better wait a while yet. I'll give this way a fair show." As fall advanced there began to be talk about forming the football eleven. A number of new players were needed, because some of the best had graduated the previous year. "I hope I can make the team," said Dick to Paul one evening during their study period. "I used to be considered a good player at home." "I don't see why you can't get on. Fortunately Dutton has nothing to say about who shall play, though he's considered one of the team's supporters and backers." "Still he may influence Captain Rutledge. I hear they are going to pick candidates this week." "Yes, I heard Harry Hale, the coach, talking about it. I hope you make the eleven, Dick." It was the following day, when Dick was out in the field, with some other cadets of his class, getting instruction in survey work, that he overheard something which made him feel more than ever like giving up the fight against his handicap. He was standing near a thick hedge, holding the scale rod, while another cadet was reading it through the instrument, when he heard voices behind the shrubbery. "Looks to me like Hamilton would make a good player," he caught, and he knew that Coach Hale was speaking. "You're right," said Captain Rutledge. "He's got the right build, and I hear he played at home." "Aw, you don't want him on the team," expostulated a voice which Dick knew at once belonged to Captain Dutton. "Why not?" asked the coach, in some surprise. "Well, none of the other fellows like him. You wouldn't get good team work if he played." "Are you sure?" asked Captain Rutledge. "Sure. He's not popular." "What's the matter with him?" "Well, he's got too much money, and he's always trying to make it known. He gives himself as many airs as if he came of an old family." This was an unjust accusation, but the coach and captain did not know it, as they were upper-class cadets, and did not mingle much with the freshmen. "Well, we won't want to get an unpopular fellow on the eleven," said the coach, dubiously. "No, indeed," agreed the captain. "Still, we need good players. Suppose we give him a trial?" "You'll be sorry if you do," Dutton assured them. Dick longed to drop the rod, leap over the hedge and give a well-deserved threshing to Dutton, but he knew he would lose more than he would gain. He was brought quickly out of his fit of righteous anger by the sharp command of the officer in charge of the surveying party. "Plumb east there! Hamilton!" was the cry, and Dick saw that he had allowed the rod to slant too much. He straightened it, and, glancing at the hedge saw the three cadets who had been talking, moving away. But, before they got out of earshot Dick heard Dutton say: "I wouldn't put him on the team, if I were you, for I don't think he'll be here long." "Why not? Doesn't he like it?" asked Captain Rutledge. "Oh, I guess he likes it all right, but we don't like him. I shouldn't wonder but what something would happen to make him leave," and Dutton laughed sarcastically. "I guess I'd better be on my guard," thought Dick as he moved the rod to another place, in obedience to the instructions from the cadet at the instrument. A few days after this, a notice was posted on the bulletin board in the gymnasium, telling all candidates for the football team to report on the gridiron that afternoon, as selections for the regular and scrub teams would be made. Members of the scrub would act as substitutes on the regular. "Here's where I get my chance," said Dick to Paul. "Well, I hope you make the regular team," replied his roommate, as the young millionaire went to submit himself for examination. Coach Hale, Captain Rutledge, and a number of the former players were on hand, as was Dutton, and some of his cronies. All the candidates were looked over, sized up physically, and put through a course of "sprouts" in running, leaping, and tackling. Then their football history was inquired into. "I guess you'll do, Hamilton," said the coach, and Dick was delighted. A moment later, however, he saw his hopes dashed to the ground. Dutton called Harry Hale over to him, whispered a bit, and then Captain Rutledge joined them. "You'll be on the scrub, Hamilton," said Hale, a little later. "You'll probably have a chance to play in several games, however, for I like your form. You've got to be regular at practice however." Though much disappointed, Dick vowed to do his best at practice. This was started a few days later, and, when the regular team lined up against the substitutes, Dick resolved that they would make no gains through him, for he was playing at left guard, though he preferred being back of the line. "Well, how are we making out," Dick overheard Captain Rutledge asking the coach, one afternoon, following some hard scrimmages. "Pretty good. That Hamilton is like a brick wall, though. We can't gain a foot through him. I wish we had him on the regular." "Well, you know what Dutton said." "Yes, I know, but I don't believe all Dutton says. He's got queer notions. I think Hamilton is every bit as good as he is. Besides, Dutton doesn't play football." "I know it, but he has lots of influence." Dick fully subscribed to this, for he knew it was due to Dutton that he was on the scrub instead of on the regular team. But he resolved to have patience. As Dick walked off the gridiron, following the practice, he was met, before he reached his barracks, by Grit, who had been let out of his kennel in the stables. "Hello, Grit old fellow!" exclaimed Dick, and the dog nearly dislocated his stump of a tail, so excited was he. Since rejoining his master he had picked up wonderfully. "I've got you for a friend, even if I haven't many others," said Dick, as he bent over to fondle the dog. As he did so he saw some marks on the animal's smooth, satin-like coat, that made him start. "Grit, you've been fighting!" he exclaimed. "How did that happen?" He knew there were no other dogs near the academy with whom his pet would quarrel. He asked the stableman about it. "Sure Grit's been in a fight," replied one of the hostlers. "I thought you matched him in a scrap wid a dorg in town. Grit won, anyhow. It was a couple a' nights ago." "Matched him in a fight? Why, did some one--some of the cadets take Grit to town, and let him fight?" "Thot's what they done, Muster Hamilton, an' they won a pot of money on him too, I understand." "Who took him?" asked Dick, trying to speak calmly. "Why, uts no secret. Muster Dutton an' Muster Stiver tuck him one night. Ut was a foin foight, I heard 'em say." Dick started away, after chaining Grit up, a set look on his face. "I'll have it out with Dutton," he said. CHAPTER XVI FOR THE PRIZE TROOP After a bath and rub down in the gymnasium Dick dressed for evening parade. When this was over he sought out Dutton, who was strolling off the campus with some chums. "Captain Dutton, I wish to speak to you," said Dick, formally saluting. "Well, I don't know that I wish to speak to you. What is it?" asked the young snob, barely acknowledging Dick's courtesy. "Did you take my bulldog to town, and match him to fight another?" Dutton started, then looked insolently at Dick. "What of it?" he asked sneeringly. "This much. That you haven't any right to do that, even if you are my superior officer. Grit is my personal property, and I won't have him fighting." "Aw, what's the harm, Hamilton. He put up a dandy fight and licked a bigger dog than he is," put in one of the cadets. "I don't care, I don't want him to fight." "Oh, you don't?" asked Dutton coolly. "No; and if you take him again----" "Well, what will you do? Report me, I suppose?" said the captain. "No, but I'll thrash you worse than I did the other time, Captain Dutton, that's what I'll do!" exclaimed Dick, hotly. "You leave Grit alone! If you take him again you know what to expect!" Dutton turned pale. He strode toward Dick, but at that moment Captain Grantly, one of the instructors, strolled past. Dutton turned aside. "You haven't heard the last of this--my fresh millionaire," he said in a whisper to Dick, as he and his cronies walked off. "You'll wish you hadn't insulted me." Dick saluted, as the rules required, and marched back to quarters. He felt that he would have enjoyed a good stiff fight with his mean enemy. "I don't suppose this will add to my popularity, among the sporting element," he said to himself. "But I don't care; they shan't fight Grit!" Football practice went on every afternoon, and Dick and the other scrubs were faithful at it. The regular eleven was being whipped into shape, and the first game was close at hand. When it was played Dick found himself wishing he could have a chance, but no such thing happened. The opponents of Kentfield were light-weight players, and the cadets had no difficulty in piling up a big score. "But it will be different next week," Captain Rutledge warned them. "We tackle Mooretown then, and you'll find your work cut out for you." This game was indeed a stiff one, and several players were hurt. The cadets were slightly ahead in the second half, when the right half-back was knocked out, and, as there had been one substitute already put in at that position, there was a call for another one. "Try Hamilton," suggested the coach, after a hurried consultation with the captain. Dick's heart gave a wild throb, as he was called, and, stripping off his sweater, he bounded in from the side line. He was given the ball for a play around the left end, and, getting clear of the opposing players started down the field on a run. But, alas for his hopes of making a touchdown! The referee's whistle blew when he was on the thirty-five yard line, ending the game, in favor of Kentfield. There was rejoicing among the cadets, for Mooretown was an ancient rival, and they played three games with the students of that non-military academy every year, for the local championship. "You didn't get much of a show, Hamilton," said Coach Hale, as the team was in the dressing room. "But you started off well. I guess you'll get into a game yet." Dick was grateful for this praise. He knew he could do good work if he had half a chance. "This is Saturday," observed Paul Drew, as he crawled out of bed the next morning. "Not so many lessons to-day, and lots of fun for you, I suppose on the horses. It's rough-riding to-day." "So it is," agreed Dick. "I like that best of all, except, maybe, hiking on a practice march, and firing from the trenches. I hope I get the horse I had last time." "To-day's the last of the tests," went on Paul, as he slipped into his uniform. "How do you mean?" "I mean the officers are going to choose from those who ride to-day, the cadets who can take part in the tests for joining the prize troop." "Right you are. Say, I'm going to make that troop or bust a leg." "Well, I hope you don't break any bones. But I guess there's no danger. You seem right at home on a horse." "I ought to. I've been riding ever since I was a kid. I'm going to do my best to-day." As Paul had said, this was the final weeding out of candidates among the cadets, who had no chance in the tests that would be held later, to determine who should be members of the prize troop. This troop consisted of the best riders at the academy, and took part in several state evolutions and parades, having won a number of trophies. Scores of cadets, in their service uniforms, reported on the cavalry plain for practice. They were required to vault into the saddle while their horse was standing still, and at varying speeds, up to a smart gallop. Many failed in this, but Dick did not. Then came mounting and dismounting at hurdles, which was more difficult, and weeded out a number, and then, the last of the semifinals, was the feat of standing astride on two horses, driving a steed on either side, and, while doing this, to take a difficult hurdle. More than a score did not succeed at this, and Dick was not a little nervous when it came his turn, as, though he was an expert, he had not practiced this evolution much. On his steeds thundered over the ground, one being a skittish horse, and hard to manage. "If they don't jump together," thought Dick, "I'm done for. If one of them knocks down the hurdle bar it's all up with my chances." He called encouragingly to the animals, and took a tighter hold on the reins, while he shifted his weight on the backs of the horses. "Over you go now, boys!" he exclaimed at the take-off, and he fairly lifted the four animals as one, over the bar, clearing it cleanly. "Good, Hamilton!" was the quiet praise of Major Webster, who acted as judge. "That was finely done." So Dick qualified for the finals. But there was more hard work ahead of him. Thus far not many of the freshmen had kept up to Dick, and there were envious eyes cast at him. But those who envied him his good fortune realized that he had earned it. "Now, gentlemen, ready for the finals," ordered Major Webster. "I want you all to be careful, and take no unnecessary risks, at the same time, don't be afraid, for no one ever became a good horseman who was afraid." The final tests consisted in riding bareback, in different postures, such as might become necessary during a battle, in riding at different speeds, in removing the saddle from the horse while at full gallop, in leaping hurdles, and taking water jumps. Other tests were in leaping hurdles four feet high, and as the cadets vaulted, taking a suspending ring on a lance, in leaping clean over a running horse and in forming pyramids, with ten cadets on four horses. The last test was, perhaps, the most difficult of all. It consisted in one cadet lying on the ground, and another riding toward him at full speed. The one on the horse had to pick up his comrade from the earth, by leaning over and grasping his up-stretched hand, and then assisting him up behind him on his horse, continuing to gallop away. When it came Dick's turn he noticed, with some uneasiness, that the cadet he was to pick up, was one of the heaviest in the school, but he resolved to succeed, and he braced himself for the ordeal, as his horse galloped toward the prostrate youth. As he neared the recumbent figure Dick leaned over, holding on as tightly as he could with his legs. His hand grasped the belt and part of the clothing of the cadet, and then Dick's arm felt as if it would be torn from the socket. He feared he would be dragged from his horse. But, with a sudden pull, he lifted the lad from the ground and swung him upon his horse. There was some applause at Dick's feat, as his steed galloped on over the course. "Guess I'm something of a load, old chap," said the cadet to Dick. "You're no feather," was Dick's comment, as he halted his horse. CHAPTER XVII DICK IN TROUBLE "Well, Hamilton, I think we shall admit you to membership in the prize troop," said Major Webster. "It was a severe test, and you did well." "I'm glad you think so, sir," replied Dick, saluting. There were some further trials, in some of them Dick acting the part of the reclining cadet. 'Gene Graham could not succeed in the test, and was rejected, much to his disappointment. Dick was delighted to be a member of the prize troop for it brought with it many privileges; and there was a chance to take part in parades and similar affairs to which the other cadets were not admitted. Very few freshmen had won the coveted honor, but it can not be said that Dick was received with open arms into the troop. Dutton and many of his friends belonged, and they had lost none of their unreasonable feeling against Dick. Still they did nothing more than turn a cold shoulder toward him, though this was enough to make the young millionaire miserable. However, he managed to forget some of his bad feeling in anticipation of another football game, which was to take place two days later. He hoped to get a chance to play, as, following a rather tame affair with a team which the Kentfield eleven "walked all over," there was to be the second of the championship contests with Mooretown. This was a lively and strenuous game. Mooretown put in some new players, and, though they did not score in the first half, when Kentfield made one touchdown, the opponents of the cadet warriors of the gridiron took such a brace in the second that the score was ten to four, in favor of Mooretown, when the referee's whistle blew. "What's the matter with your men?" asked Coach Hale of Captain Rutledge, after the game. "They couldn't hold those fellows for a cent." "Too much beef for us," replied the captain. "Yes, and they tore holes in your line that you could drive an ice wagon through," went on the coach. "Both your guards were weak. Hamilton should have been put in." "I couldn't very well do it, when no men were hurt." "No, I suppose not. But if the next game doesn't go better than this one did, I'll make a change. We can't afford to lose it." "We shan't lose it," promised the captain, and Dick, who overheard what was said, hoped he would get a chance to play. Meanwhile he reported regularly for practice, and was a tower of strength to the scrub eleven, many of the players on which, regardless of Dutton's influence, made of Dick a better friend than heretofore. Several unimportant games followed, one of which resulted in a tie, Kentfield winning the others, and then came the occasion of the final struggle with Mooretown. It was the greatest game of the season, as it meant much to both academies. The day before the contest Dick was surprised to receive a visit from Russell Glen, one of the freshmen cadets, who, hitherto, had scarcely taken the trouble to nod to him. Glen wanted to be considered a "sport," and Dick had heard that he had had a hand in taking Grit off to the dog fight. "I had a letter from a friend of mine to-day," said Glen, by way of introduction, as he lolled in one of Dick's easy chairs. "It contained some surprising news." "Yes?" asked Dick politely. "Yes, it was from Guy Fletcher, of Hamilton Corners. He spoke of you, and asked me if I knew you." "Well?" asked Dick, wondering what was coming. "I was quite surprised to know that you and Guy were friends," went on Glen. "Oh, yes, I've known Guy for some time," said Dick, not caring to go into particulars, and tell what a mean trick Guy, in company with Simon Scardale, had once played on him. "So he says. He speaks very highly of you. I've known him for some time. He and I used to be quite chummy. But I had no idea you and he lived in the same town, until he spoke of it in his letter. He mentioned that you attended this academy, and asked if I was acquainted with you. I wrote back and said that I was." Dick looked rather surprised at this, as well he might, for, beyond a mere nod, Glen had never shown that he knew him. "I don't suppose I am as well acquainted with you as I might be," went on the young "sport," calmly, "and that's my fault. I've been so busy attending to my studies, that I haven't had much time for social calls." Neither had many of the other cadets, Dick thought bitterly. "But I'll make amends now," went on Glen. "I want to get to know you better, because we both have the same friend in Guy Fletcher." Dick didn't think it worth while to state that Guy was no particular friend of his, since certain happenings told of in the first volume of this series. But Glen continued: "I wish you'd come to a little spread I'm giving to-night. Just a small affair for some of the freshmen." "I'll come," promised our hero, glad of the chance to meet some of his classmates informally. "It won't be as elaborate as the one I hear you gave," went on Glen, "for I'm not a millionaire," and he laughed. "But I'll do the best I can." At first Dick thought he was going to have a good time at the affair, for the guests, most of whom were of the "sporting" element, greeted him cordially enough. But when Glen produced several bottles of beer, and some cigars, Dick felt uneasy. It was an offense, calling for severe punishment, to have intoxicants or tobacco in the academy, and Dick realized that discovery might come any moment. Still, he did not want to bring upon himself ridicule, and perhaps anger, by leaving. "Have some beer, Hamilton," urged Glen. "It's the right sort of stuff. I had it smuggled in from town. And these are prime cigars. I snibbled some from dad's stock before I came away." "No, thank you," replied Dick. "I don't care for any." "What, don't you drink?" "No." "Aw, you don't know what life is. Have a cigar then." "No, I don't smoke, either." "Humph! You're a regular molly-coddle, you are," said Glen, with a brutal laugh. Dick flushed. "Maybe," he admitted, as pleasantly as he could, "but I have an idea I shouldn't drink or smoke while in training, if for no other reason." "Your training doesn't seem to be doing you much good," said another cadet. "You haven't had a show in any of the games yet. Better quit training and have some beer." "No, thank you. Maybe I'll get a chance to play to-morrow." But Dick's refusal had no effect on Glen's other guests. They drank more than was good for them, and smoked considerable. They were becoming rather noisy and silly, and Dick was in momentary terror lest some guard or instructor should come along and discover the violation of the rules. The spread was held in an unused room, in the basement of the east barrack, and, though permission for it had been given, the officer in charge of the building was supposed to keep a sort of lookout over such affairs. If one of the cadet officers discovered the beer and cigars he would hardly "squeal" on his comrades, but one of the academy staff would not be so lenient. The fun became more and more noisy, and Dick was thinking of withdrawing, no matter if he did offend his host, when he was saved the trouble by something that happened. A cadet officer, who was on night guard knocked on the door, and when there came a sudden hush to the merry-making, he whispered that Major Webster was approaching, and would almost certainly discover the breach of rules. "Quick fellows, get this stuff out of the way, and then skip!" cried Glen, and the boys quickly hid the beer bottles, and threw away their cigars. Then, by opening the windows, the smoke was gotten rid of, and the cadets prepared to disperse. "I say, Hamilton," began Glen, a bit thickly, as he walked alongside Dick, to his room, "you couldn't lend me twenty-five dollars; could you? I spent more on this racket than I intended, and I'm a bit short until I get my next allowance. I want to bet a little on the game to-morrow." "I guess I can let you have it," said Dick good naturedly. "Come to my room, and I'll get it." It was after ten o'clock, but as Dick had received permission to attend the spread, he had a permit to be out after taps. Paul, who had not been invited, was asleep when Dick and Glen entered. "I say, Hamilton, you keep your room looking nice," said the "sport" as he looked around the neat apartment. "I'm always getting a mark at police inspection, for having something out of kilter. You and Drew are as neat as girls." "Hush! Not so loud," cautioned Dick. "You'll wake, Paul." "Aw, what's the odds. He'll go to sleep again. It's early yet. Be a sport!" Glen was noisy from the beer which he had taken. "Here is the money," said Dick, handing over some bills. "Thanks, old chap. I'll see that you get it back all right." "There's no hurry." "All right; if I win, though, I'll pay you to-morrow. Do you think we'll lick Mooretown?" "I hope so. But you'd better go to bed now." "Me? Go to bed? Wha' for?" "Well, it's getting late, and some one might come along. You'd better go." "That's a' right. I'm goin'. You're a' right, Ham'ton. You're a' right. You're sport!" And, rather unsteady on his legs, poor, foolish Glen went away, much to Dick's relief. "I don't much care for friends, such as he is," thought Dick, as he got into bed. In his generousness it never occurred to him that Glen had cultivated his acquaintance merely that he might borrow money from him. Dick was awakened by the clear, sweet notes of the bugle sounding reveille. He and Paul jumped out of bed, and were soon in their uniforms. Then they got their room in order for police inspection, which, on some days, was made while they were at breakfast. This was one of those occasions. "There, I guess they can't find any fault with that," observed Dick, as he and his roommate, putting the finishing touches to their apartment, descended to form in line to march to the mess hall. Dick was leaving the table, to attend chapel, when Cadet Captain Naylor, who was in charge of the police inspection, tapped him on the shoulder. "Hamilton, report to Major Rockford," he said curtly. "To Major Rockford? What for?" "Room out of order." "Room out of order?" Dick knew that he and Paul had left their apartment in perfect trim. But Captain Naylor did not answer, and Dick, with a heavy heart, started for the commandant's office. It was the first time he had been made to report for a breach of discipline of this sort. CHAPTER XVIII A DISMAL CHRISTMAS "You are reported as not having your room in order, Hamilton," began Major Rockford, as Dick entered. "I don't see how that can be, sir," replied Dick, saluting. "When Paul Drew and I left it for breakfast it was in order." "Drew's side is yet, but your bureau is stated by Captain Naylor to be in great disorder." "I--I left it in order, sir." "Very well, we will go and take a look at it." Accompanied by the commandant, Dick went to his apartment. To his surprise his neat bureau was in great disorder, the objects on it being scattered all about. "Well?" asked Major Rockford. "Some one--some one must have been in here, sir," said Dick. "Ha! Do you wish to accuse any one?" Dick went closer to his bureau. Something on it caught his eye. It was a note written in pencil. It read: "DEAR HAMILTON: I am awfully sick this morning. I lost that twenty-five you loaned me. Can you let me have some more? I called but you were out, so I wrote this note here. Please let me have the money. "RUSSELL GLEN." Then Dick understood. Glen, suffering from the effects of his dissipation the night before, had called at the room after our hero and Paul had left to go to breakfast. In writing the note Glen had, probably unthinkingly, disarranged the things on Dick's bureau, where he wrote and left the missive. Then he had gone away, and, Captain Naylor, on police inspection, had seen the disorder, and reported Dick. "Do you wish to accuse any one?" went on Major Rockford. Dick thought rapidly. To tell the true circumstances, and show Glen's note, would mean that the facts of the spread would come out. Glen and his chums would be punished, and Dick might be censured. It would be better to accept the blame for having his room in disorder, rather than incur the displeasure of his comrades by being the means of informing on Glen. So Dick answered: "I--I guess I was mistaken, sir. I am sorry my room was out of order." "So am I, Hamilton, for you have a good record. Still there have been several violations of late, among the cadets, and I must make an example. But, in view of your good conduct, and record I will not give you any demerits." "Thank you, sir." "Still, I must inflict some punishment You will not be allowed to attend the football game this afternoon, but must remain in your room." That was punishment indeed, for Dick felt that he would have a chance to play. Still, like a good soldier, he did not murmur. He concealed Glen's note in his hand, saluted the major and then, as chapel was over, he marched to his classroom, with a heavy heart. "I wonder if that was part of a plot to get me into trouble," thought Dick, as he recalled what he had overheard Dutton say. "They're trying to force me to leave the academy. But I'll not go! I'll fight it out!" He felt very lonesome as he had to retire to his room that afternoon, and heard the merry shouts of the football eleven, the substitutes, and the other cadets leaving for the final battle on the gridiron with Mooretown. "How I wish I could go!" thought Dick. "I'm punished for something I didn't do. It isn't right. Still, perhaps Glen was so sick he didn't know what he was doing." He had already sent Glen some more money, for he did not want to refuse one of the few favors that had been asked of him since coming to the academy. As he was moping in his room, Toots came along, whistling "Three Cheers for the Red, White and Blue," and giving a succession of bugle calls. "What? Not at the game, Mister Hamilton?" asked the jolly janitor. "No; I'm a prisoner." "That's nothing. Many a time I got out of the guard house. There's no one around now, and I won't look, nor squeal. You can easily slip out, and go to the game." "No," said Dick, though the temptation was strong. "By the way, Toots, did you ever call to mind about this picture?" and he showed him the one of missing Bill Handlee, which was still on the mantle. "No," replied Toots, again striving hard to remember about it. "It's clean gone from me, Mr. Hamilton. But, are you sure you don't want to escape? I can find some work to do at the other side of the barracks, if you want to go." "No. I'll stay." And stay Dick did, all that long afternoon. It was dusk when the players and the other cadets came back, and there was an ominous silence about their return. "It doesn't sound as if they'd won," thought Dick. "If they did they're celebrating very quietly." Paul Drew came in a little later. "How about the game?" asked Dick eagerly. "We lost," said Paul. "We might have won, only Henderson, who had a chance to score a winning touchdown, couldn't run fast enough with the ball, and he was downed on the five-yard line, too late for another try to cross the Mooretown goal. I wish you had played. You'd have won the game for us." "Oh, I guess not." "Yes, you would. Captain Rutledge admitted as much." "Well, maybe I'll get a chance next time." "There won't be any next time this year. The game is over for the season, and Mooretown did us two contests out of three. It's too bad. The fellows are all cut up over it. Say, have you any idea who mussed up your bureau? Was it Dutton?" "No, it wasn't Dutton," said Dick quietly, and that was all he could be induced to say about it. Discipline, which had been somewhat relaxed during the football season, was now in force again, and the cadets found they were kept very busy with their studies and drills. Dick was standing well in his classes, but he made no more progress in gaining the friendship of the students, other than a few freshmen. Even Glen showed no disposition to make much of Dick. He did not repay the money borrowed, on the plea that he was in debt quite heavily, and had lost much on the football game. Still he had the cheek to ask Dick for more, and when the young millionaire properly refused Glen called him a "tight-wad," and sneered at him, making no pretense of retaining his friendship. One night, following several spreads, to none of which was Dick invited, he wrote a rather discouraged letter to his father, hinting that he wished he could attend some other school. In due time there came an answer, part of which was as follows: "You know the terms were that you were to remain at least a full term. Still, if you do not wish to, you have the choice of going to your Uncle Ezra. He will send you to a boarding school of his own selection. Let me know what you will do. I will not be able to get home by Christmas, as I expected, and you had better remain at the academy over the holidays. I know it will be lonesome for you, but it can't be helped." "Go to a boarding school selected by Uncle Ezra," murmured Dick. "Never! I'll stay here a full term, even if no one but the teachers speak to me. I never could stand Uncle Ezra and Dankville. This is bad enough, but there are some bright spots in it. The sun never shines where Uncle Ezra is." Yet the time was coming when Uncle Ezra was to do Dick a great favor, though he himself was not aware of it. So Dick sent word to his father that he would remain at Kentfield. Fall merged into winter, and overcoats were the order of the day at all out-door exercises. Much of the drilling and parading was omitted, and more study and recitation was indulged in. What maneuvers on horseback and afoot were held, took place mainly in the big riding hall or drill room, and they were not as attractive as when held out of doors. "Well, are you going home for Christmas?" asked Paul, about a week before the holiday vacation. "Guess not," replied Dick, somewhat gloomily. "Our house is shut up, and I don't care about spending Christmas at a hotel in Hamilton Corners." "Come home with me." "No, thank you. I was thinking of visiting some of my chums at home. I believe I'll do that. I'll be glad to see them again." Dick knew he would be welcomed at the homes of any of his friends, and he planned to go to Hamilton Corners and surprise them. But alas for his hopes! When the last day of school came, and the other cadets made hurried preparations to leave for home, poor Dick was taken with a heavy cold. The surgeon forbade him leaving his room, as the weather was cold and stormy, and our hero was forced to remain at Kentfield, in charge of the housekeeper and the doctor, while the other cadets joyfully departed to happy firesides. "Sorry to leave you, old chap," said Paul, sympathetically, "but my folks wouldn't know what to do if I didn't come home over the holidays." "That's all right," said Dick, hoarsely, but as cheerfully as he could. "I'll see you after New Year's. Have a good time." "I will. Hope you get better." It was a gloomy Christmas for the young millionaire, and, as a fever set in with his cold, he couldn't even enjoy the good things which the kind housekeeper, under orders from Colonel Masterly, provided for the patient. The academy was a very lonely place indeed, Christmas day, for all the officers and cadets had gone, leaving only the housekeeper, and some of the janitors, including Toots, in charge. Dick received some tokens from abroad, sent by his father, and a cheery letter, which he answered in the same strain. "But it isn't much like Christmas," thought Dick, as he sat up in bed. Then a bright thought came to him. "Can't Toots have dinner up here with me?" he asked Mrs. Fitzpatrick. "Of course he can," she said. "Maybe it will cheer you up," and she sent for the jolly janitor. CHAPTER XIX THE MARKSMAN MEDAL Toots' advance along the corridor leading to Dick's room was announced by his rendering of the tune "The Star Spangled Banner," which he ended with a spirited bugle call. "Did you send for me, Mr. Hamilton?" he asked as he came in. "I did, Toots," said Dick. "I thought maybe you would like to have dinner with me here. I'm lonesome, and I suppose you are, too." "Bless your heart, not exactly lonesome, Mr. Hamilton, but I'm glad to come just the same. You see I'm too busy to be lonesome. I've got lots to do, cleaning up all the rooms against the cadets coming back in a couple of weeks." "Then maybe you haven't time to spend an hour or so here." "Oh, I reckon I have. But it's agin the regulations for me to eat here. I'm supposed to eat with the other servants." "We'll make our own regulations for the time being," said Dick. "Here comes Mrs. Fitzpatrick with the grub. I hope you're hungry, for I'm not particularly." "Well, I can eat a bit," admitted Toots. "I say, though, that is a spread!" he exclaimed, as he saw the good things the housekeeper was bringing into Dick's room, where she set them on a table. "Well, it's Christmas," observed Dick, "though I can't eat much myself. However, it'll do me good to see you put it away." "And I can do that same," admitted Toots cheerfully. Dick, under the doctor's orders was allowed only a bit of the white meat of the turkey, and none of the "stuffing," so he could not make a very substantial meal, but Toots ate enough for three. "I don't suppose you got this sort of thing in the army," ventured Dick, wishing to have his odd friend talk somewhat of his experiences, for he had learned that Toots had once been janitor at a military post. "No, indeed," replied Toots. "We did get a little extra at holiday times, but nothing like this." "How did you come to be at the military post?" asked Dick. "Blessed if I know. I was always a sort of a rover, and I suppose I wandered out west. I'm going to join the army some time. I'm a good shot, you know. Did you ever see me shoot?" "Yes," replied Dick, trying not to smile, as he thought of how far Toots had come from hitting the target. "Yes, I'm a good shot," went on the janitor. "But I'm going to improve. I'll practice on the range this winter at odd times. You're a pretty good shot yourself, ain't you?" "Fair," admitted Dick, as he watched Toots put away the roast turkey and the "fixings." "A-ker-choo!" suddenly sneezed Toots, pulling out his handkerchief. "Aker-choo-choo! Guess I put too much pepper on my potatoes," he said. Something fell to the floor, as Toots pulled out his handkerchief. It lay in sight of Dick, who was propped up in bed. "What's that?" he asked. "You dropped something." The man picked it up, and Dick saw that it was a marksman's bronze medal. "Let me see that," he said, quickly, and the janitor passed it over. "Why this was given to some soldier, for good shooting," went on our hero, as he tried to decipher the name on it. "Where did you get it, Toots?" "Blessed if I know, Mr. Hamilton. I've had it a long time. It was given to me by some friend, I expect. I found it the other day in my trunk. I'd forgotten I had it. But if it's a marksman's badge, I'm going to wear it. I'm a good shot." Dick looked more closely at it. Besides the name of some soldier the badge contained the name of the command to which he had belonged, but everything save the letters "mie, Wyo." were obliterated by dents and scratches. A sudden thought came to Dick. It was in connection with Toot's half-recognition of the picture of missing Bill Handlee. It was evident that Toots knew something of the captain's son, but he could not straighten out the kink in his memory, and possibly this marksman's badge might be a clue. Dick hoped so, and he decided to try to learn from what fort or command the medal had been given. "I wish you'd let me take this for a few days, Toots," he said. "I'll take good care of it." "All right, Mr. Hamilton, but don't lose it. If it's what you say it is, I'm going to wear it, to show I'm a good shot. Then I won't have to be telling people all the while. They can see it for themselves." "Can't you recollect where you got it?" asked Dick again. Toots shook his head. "It's like--like the time you asked me about his picture," he said, pointing to the photo on the mantle. "I get all sort of confused in my head. Maybe I always had it. Maybe someone gave it to me when I was janitor at the fort out west." "What fort was that?" "I've forgotten. It's a good while ago. But don't lose that medal, Mr. Hamilton. I'm going to wear it." "Poor Toots," thought Dick. "All the medals in the world will never make you a good shot." He put the badge carefully away, resolving to ask Major Webster, at the first opportunity, from what military post it was likely to have come. Thanks to the jolly companionship of Toots, Christmas was not as gloomy as Dick had feared it would be. The dinner over the janitor left Dick to himself, and our hero fell into a refreshing sleep. When he awoke he felt much better, and the doctor said he could be out in a couple of days, if the weather moderated. The first of the year dawned; a fine bracing day, and, as there was no biting wind, Dick was allowed to stroll about the campus a short time. This brought the color to his cheeks, and completed the cure begun by the surgeon's medicine. "Well, things will be lively a week from to-night," said Toots one day, as he came in to make up Dick's room. "Why?" "The boys will be back then. Vacation will be over." "I'm glad of it," commented Dick, and then, with pain in his heart, he wondered if the coming term would bring him more fellowship than had the preceding one. Major Webster was among the first of the instructors to arrive, in anticipation of the return of the students, and to him Dick showed the medal. "Why, yes; that's one given out years ago, at Fort Laramie, Wyoming," he said. "I can send it to a friend of mine for you, if you like. Possibly they may be able to trace the illegible name from the fort records." "I wish you would," said Dick. "Maybe I can get a trace of Captain Handlee's son for him." "I doubt it," replied the major, shaking his head. "I tried all the sources of information I knew, and it was useless. Still you may have better luck." The medal was sent off, but, fearing nothing would come of it, Dick did not say anything to Captain Handlee about it, though he wrote to the veteran in answer to a letter the old soldier sent him. The holiday vacation came to a close, and, one morning Dick awoke to a realization that, on that day, the cadets would come pouring back. It was nearly noon when the first of them arrived. Among them was Paul Drew. "Well, how are you, old chap?" he cried, rushing into Dick's room. "Pretty good. How about you?" "Oh, I had a dandy time, home. I almost hated to come back, but I wanted to see you, and then I know we'll have some sport this winter. Say, there are a lot of new fellows. We're not so fresh as we were. There are others. There's going to be hazing to-night, I understand. Thank fortune they won't bother me. I don't fancy cold water down my back on a winter night." "Hazing, eh?" remarked Dick. And he wondered if his turn would come. CHAPTER XX DICK DOESN'T TELL All the rest of that day cadets continued to arrive at Kentfield Academy, and there were lively scenes on the snow-covered campus, in the assembly auditoriums, students' rooms, and in the mess hall. Several new cadets stood about, looking rather miserable, Dick thought, and he spoke to some of them, telling them where to report, and what to do, for he appreciated what it meant to be a stranger among a lot of lads who ignored new-comers, not because they were heartless so much as that they were thoughtless. Dick rather hoped Dutton would not return, but that cadet was among the first he encountered as he strolled over the white campus. Dutton nodded coolly, and Dick as coolly acknowledged the bow. Then Dutton saw a freshman standing near the saluting cannon. It was one of the unwritten rules of the school that none below the grade of sophomores might stand near the cannon. "Here, fresh!" cried Dutton roughly, "stand away from that gun!" The lad, a small chap, did not seem to comprehend. Dick put in a word. "You can't stand near there until you're a second year," he told the lad. "It's a school rule, that's all." "I say, Hamilton, I guess I can manage my own affairs," said Dutton, angrily. "You mind your own business; will you?" "I guess I've got as much right to speak as you have," said Dick hotly. "I was only telling him what to do." The freshman looked from one to the other. Quite a group had gathered by this time, attracted by Dutton's loud voice. The new lad moved a short distance away from the gun. "Don't you know enough to mind when you're spoken to?" demanded Dutton, advancing toward him. "I'll teach you manners, you young cub! Why don't you salute when an officer speaks to you? Now get back," and, with that he gave the lad such a shove that he went over backward into a snow bank, made by shoveling the white crystals away from the gun. "That's not right, Dutton!" exclaimed Dick. "You mind your own affairs, or I'll do the same to you, Hamilton," retorted the bully. "You'd better try it," said Dick quietly. "If you want to fight with me, you know what to do. Just lay a finger on me." He took a step toward his enemy, and stood waiting for him. But Dutton knew better than to attack Dick. He had felt the weight of his fists once, and he knew he had no chance in a fair fight. So he strode away, muttering to the lad whom he had knocked down: "You keep away from this gun, after this, fresh." Dick did not think it wise to say anything further on the side of the mistreated one. Already he saw some unpleasant looks directed toward him by Dutton's friends, and he realized that by interfering in what was considered one of the rights of upper classmen, to assume a bullying attitude toward those in the lower grades, he was not adding to his popularity. I am glad to say that such characters as Dutton were in the small majority at Kentfield, and that though some of his cronies applauded his action in knocking the newcomer down, most of the lads were not in sympathy with the bully. But there were so many things occurring, so many cadets arriving, some of whom wanted to change their apartments, to get new roommates, or be quartered in other sections of the barracks, that all was in seeming confusion. Colonel Masterly and his aides, however, had matters well in hand, and by night, when the cadets lined up for the march to mess, affairs were in some sort of order. "Do you want to make a shift, Paul?" asked Dick, as they went to their room early that evening. "A shift? What do you mean?" "Why some of your friends have changed over to the east barrack, I hear. I thought maybe you'd want to go too?" "Do you want me to go?" "Indeed I don't!" and Dick spoke very earnestly. "All right. When I want to leave you I'll let you know," and Paul slapped Dick on the back in a fashion that told what his feelings were in the matter. A little later mysterious steps in the corridor, and subdued knockings on nearby doors told Paul and Dick that something unusual was going on. "Hazing," said Paul. "We're immune. Let's take it in." "I don't like to haze fellows," said Dick. "It's all right when they're your size, but all the chaps who came in lately are smaller than I am." "That won't make any difference to Dutton and his crowd. They'll haze 'em anyhow, and we might as well see the fun. A fellow who can't stand a little hazing is no good." "That's so. Guess I'll go. I don't mind it if it isn't too rough. I wouldn't mind being hazed myself. It would give me a chance to make a rough house for Dutton and his cronies." "Come on then. Let's go to the gym. I heard that they're going to haze a bunch of 'em there." "What about Major Rockford?" "Well, I guess he and the colonel know about it, but they won't interfere unless it gets too strenuous." Dick and Paul found a large crowd of the older cadets already gathered in the gymnasium. In one corner was huddled a rather frightened group of freshmen, who were waiting their turn to be grilled. They had been rounded up from their rooms by a committee appointed for that purpose. "Now, fellows," said Dutton, who, as usual, assumed the leadership, "we'll work 'em off in bunches. Put two or three of 'em in a blanket and toss 'em up for a starter." "Some of 'em may get hurt," objected Stiver. "We'd better take 'em one at a time." "Aw, you're afraid! Besides, we haven't time. Here, Beeby, grab a couple of 'em and pass 'em over." Captain Beeby of Company B grasped a cadet in either hand, and shoved them toward Dutton The latter already had one, and the three lads were pushed down into a large blanket which had been spread for that purpose. "Grab the corners and up with 'em!" called Dutton. "Toss 'em as high as you can." "Suppose they fall out?" objected Lieutenant Jim Watkins. "It won't matter. There's a gym. mat under 'em." Up into the air went the unfortunate lads, clinging together in a sort of bunch, and struggling to see which one was to be underneath in the fall. Down they came into the blanket, but the impact was so heavy that it was torn from the grasp of the cadets holding it, and the freshmen landed on the mat with a thump and many squeals. "That's the way!" cried Dutton with a laugh. "Now, once more." "Let's take some others," proposed Beeby. "No, they haven't had enough." So, in spite of their struggles and protests, the lads were tossed again. Then three more took their places. They, too, had a hard time, one falling over the edge of the blanket and partly off the mat. But he was game and never made a sound. "Now for the slide of death!" cried Dutton. "What's that?" asked several of his cronies. "I'll show you," he said. From the top of the gymnasium there hung a long rope, running over a pulley. Dutton made a loop in one end, and then took hold of the other. "Tie a couple of 'em up in blankets," he ordered, and two of the struggling cadets were made up into a rough bundle. Dutton then passed several coils of the long rope about them. "Pull 'em up!" he ordered next, and willing hands aided him in hoisting the lads toward the roof of the gymnasium. "You are now about to take the slide of death!" called Dutton, when the freshmen were close against the pulley, and fully forty feet above the floor. "We're going to let you come down on the run----" A scream from one of the lads in the blanket high up in the air interrupted him. "You'll frighten him!" called Dick. "What's that to you? Mind your own affairs, and we'll run this," said Dutton. "Or maybe you'll get your hazing, which we omitted last time." "Go ahead," said Dick. "But that's too risky." "Aw, cut it out, Hamilton," said Stiver. "We ain't going to hurt 'em." But this assurance could not be heard by the lads in the blanket, who could not see. "Let her slide!" cried Dutton, and he and his chums released their grasp on the rope, which was wound about a post. Down, on the run, came the unfortunate cadets, and from the cries they uttered they must have imagined that they were about to be dashed to the floor. Then Dick saw that several mats were right under them, in case of accident. But it was not the intention of Dutton to run any risks. At first the rope was paid out swiftly, and then it was gradually tightened against the post, until the speed of the falling cadets was slackened, and they came to a stop a few inches above the mats. "The next batch won't get off so lucky!" announced Dutton, as he commanded that some more be wrapped up in the blanket. "We'll bump them." This news was sufficient to cause a panic among the candidates still remaining, but their protests were of no avail, and they came down with considerable force on the mats, but no one was hurt. Then the water cure was administered to a number, the streams being poured down their trouser legs, amid the laughter of the unfortunate ones who were exempt. As the gymnasium was kept quite warm this ordeal was not so bad as might be supposed. Still, it was not pleasant, but it was part of the game. A particularly tall freshman was stretched out, or, rather suspended on the flying rings, until he looked like some soaring eagle. He struggled, but to no effect, and had to take his medicine. Others were blindfolded, and made to fight with blown-up bladders, some were tied in pairs on trapezes, and a number were made to do ridiculous stunts, to the more or less enjoyment of the older cadets. "Well, I guess that's all," announced Dutton, a little before it was time for taps to sound. "Unless we take Hamilton." "I'm willing," said Dick, with a grim smile. "He's too willing. He'd knock a lot of us around," whispered Stiver to Dutton. "We'll postpone your initiation," remarked the Captain of Company A. "Come on, fellows, there goes tattoo. Half an hour to lights out." Matters more quickly adjusted themselves following the opening of the winter term, than they did at the beginning of the fall one, as there were fewer new cadets. Lessons were quickly under way, together with a few drills, out of doors when the weather permitted it, otherwise in the big hall. The lake froze over, and Dick and the other lads had their fill of skating, races being held every afternoon. In a number of these, particularly the long distance ones, Dick came in a winner. Then there were snowball fights between the different companies, both on foot and mounted on horses, with wooden shields. These were lively affairs, and were enjoyed by all. Dick took his part in the winter sports, but, though he had increased his friends by the addition of several freshmen, particularly Payson Emery, the lad whose knocking down by Dutton he had resented, he made no progress toward getting intimate with the upperclassmen. "But I've got half a term yet," thought Dick. With the advent of winter, affairs in the town of Kentfield, which was about two miles from where the academy was located, became more lively. There were theatrical and other entertainments, and the cadets, when they could not get permission to attend these, used to run the guard. Usually there was little risk in this, as the cadet officers would not report their friends, unless some member of the academy faculty happened to hear a late-staying party come sneaking in, and then the young officer on guard knew he had to make some sort of a report or be punished himself. One night there was a large and rather fashionable dance given in town, by some friends of Dutton's family. He was invited, together with some of his cronies, but he was refused permission to go, as he had broken several rules of late. "Well, I'm going anyhow," he announced to Stiver. "I guess I can run the guard all right, and get back. There are some girls I want to meet." So Dutton and Stiver, and one or two others, went. Dick was on guard, as it happened, at the barracks where Dutton and the others had their rooms. He was patrolling his post long after midnight, expecting soon to be relieved, when he saw some shadowy forms stealing along the hedge. "Halt!" he cried, bringing his rifle up. "Gee! It's Hamilton!" he heard some one say, and he recognized Stiver's voice. "Then I guess it's all up with us," announced Dutton, straightening up, and, with his chums, approaching Dick. The young millionaire said nothing. "Are you going to let us in? We haven't the countersign," said Dutton, with an uneasy laugh. "You can go in," replied Dick, producing the key to the front door. "And I suppose you'll squeal in the morning," went on Dutton, as he and his cronies entered. Dick didn't answer. "You should have known better than to risk going, Dutton," said Stiver. "Of course he'll tell. He owes you too much not to." But Dick didn't tell, and Dutton's breach of discipline was not discovered. CHAPTER XXI THE FANCY DRESS BALL "Well, Dick," remarked Paul Drew, one afternoon, as he and his roommate came in from drill, "I see you're on the ball committee." "What ball, and what committee?" "The fancy dress ball, if I have to go into all the details. You know the academy has one every year, and it's a swell affair, let me tell you. Lights, gay music, pretty girls----" "Especially pretty girls," said Dick with a smile. "But what committee am I on?" "Arrangements. Didn't you see the list posted in the mess hall? I don't envy you. There will be lots to do." "Suppose you take pity on my ignorance, and go a little more into details." Whereupon Paul did, describing the affair at length. It was to take place, as usual, in February, and this time would be held on Washington's birthday. "Maybe we won't have fun!" exclaimed Paul. "There'll be all sorts of costumes, and the decorations will be immense. You'll have to help with them." "Then I'd better get busy," declared Dick. "I must see who's chairman of my committee, and report for work. What character are you going to portray, Paul?" "I think I shall go as a Colonial officer. I always did like a powdered wig." "Talcum powder, instead of gun powder," retorted Dick. "That's the calibre of such tin soldiers as you." "Halt!" called Paul, as Dick prepared to run away. "As punishment I'll not introduce you to a certain pretty girl I know, who is coming to the dance." "Then I'll surrender and beg your pardon!" cried Dick. "What part will you play?" asked Paul. "You'd look swell dressed as an Indian." "I think I'll take the part of a cannon swab, and then I'll not have to bother about a suit. But more of that later. I'm going to see what I have to do." Dick found out from the chairman of his committee that there was plenty of work to prepare for the fête, and he did his share. One day he had to go to a nearby town to purchase some of the decorations. It was two days before the fancy dress ball was to take place, and, having made his purchases, Dick prepared to return to the Academy. As he was about to board a trolley car, which ran near Kentfield, he heard a voice calling: "How are you, Dick Hamilton?" He turned, to see a tall, well-built lad, of about his own age, who was smiling at him in a friendly fashion. At first he did not recognize the youth. "You don't know me, I see," went on the other. "I once had the pleasure of interviewing you about a gold brick game----" "Why, Larry Dexter! How are you?" cried Dick, turning aside from the car, and holding out his hand to the other. "I did not get a good look at you, or I would have known you at once. What good wind blows you here? Can't you stay and come over to our Academy? Where have you been? How is the newspaper business?" "My, you'd do for a reporter yourself!" exclaimed Larry Dexter, with a smile. "I'm glad you haven't forgotten me though. Have you been swindled lately? I'd like a good story. The one I came down here after didn't pan out." Those of you who have read my books in the "Newspaper Series" will at once recognize the lad who greeted Dick. He was Lawrence Dexter, a reporter on the New York _Leader_, and, as related in the volume called "Dick Hamilton's Fortune," he had met our hero when the latter had narrowly escaped being swindled by a sharper in the metropolis. Larry, as all his friends called him, had managed to get a good "story" from the experience of Dick, who was on a visit to New York, with a number of boy friends. The incident is mentioned in the third volume of the Newspaper Series, "Larry Dexter's Great Search," where the young reporter does some detective work. After Dick had given Larry the story of the attempted swindle, the young reporter took the millionaire's son to the newspaper office, and showed him something of how a great daily is published. The two lads had struck up quite a friendship, and they had pleasant memories of each other. "What are you doing here?" asked Dick, as they walked up the street with his newspaper acquaintance. "Oh, I came here on a peculiar robbery yarn, but it turned out to be an ordinary affair, and not worth much of a story. I sent in the account by wire, and, as a reward for my past valuable services to the paper, I have been given a couple of days' leave of absence. You see, the managing editor thinks quite highly of me," and Larry made a mock bow. "Then you're just in time," said Dick. "How so?" "Why, you can spend a few days with me. There's going to be a big masked ball at the military academy where I attend, and perhaps you'd like to see it." "I think I would, if the military authorities will admit a mere civilian." "I'm sure they will. Come along back with me. I'll introduce you to Colonel Masterly, and you can bunk in with Drew and me. Paul Drew is my roommate--a fine fellow." "Oh, I'm afraid I'll put you out." "You couldn't do that, Larry. Come on. We'll have some fun." So Larry Dexter accompanied Dick back to the Academy, where he was speedily made welcome by Colonel Masterly and members of the latter's staff. "We would be very glad to have you remain and witness some evolutions of the cadets, a day or so after the ball," invited the colonel. "They will possibly interest you." "I should be glad to," replied Larry, "but I can't stay long enough. It is very kind of you to invite me to the ball." Possibly Colonel Masterly had a purpose in seconding Dick's invitation to this affair. The head of the military school was not averse to a little free advertising for the Academy, and he thought perhaps Larry might "write up" an account of the ball. Which, as a matter of fact, Larry did, and a fine account it was. The reporter, though Dick invited him to don a costume, thought it better not to, and, when the night of the gay affair came, Larry was in sober black, forming a strange contrast to the lads in gay uniforms. The dresses of the young ladies and the uniforms or costumes of the cadets, with the hundreds of electric lights, the gay streamers and flags festooned about the gymnasium, made the apartment a brilliant picture. The Academy cadet band struck up a lively march, and the dancers paraded around the room, two by two. Dick was not in this, as he had not yet made the acquaintance of any of the girls, and after ascertaining that Larry Dexter was in a position where he could see well, our hero retired rather disconsolately to a secluded corner. He saw Paul Drew dancing with a very pretty girl, and was just beginning to envy him, when his roommate walked up, and introduced her to Dick. "Allow me to present my friend, Dick Hamilton," said Paul with a low bow. "Mr. Hamilton--Miss Fordice. Dick is a better dancer than I am," added Paul. It was plainly a hint to Dick, who at once took advantage of it, and asked: "May I have the honor?" "If it pleases you, sir," replied the girl, with a mischievous smile, and an old-fashioned courtesy. Dick led her into a two-step, and they were soon whirling about. But Dick was not selfish, and he knew better than to keep Paul's partner away from him for long, so, making some excuse, he led Miss Fordice back to his roommate. "I'll introduce you to some other girls, after this dance, Hamilton," Paul called back to him. Dick noticed that a tall, dark girl, who was standing near one of the pillars, started at the sound of his name. A moment later she advanced toward him, appeared to hesitate, and then came forward. "Excuse me," she said, "but are you Dick Hamilton?" "I am," said our hero, secretly delighted at the chance of talking to the girl. "I thought I heard Mr. Drew call you that. You must think it dreadfully forward of me to speak to you without an introduction----" "Nothing of the sort," said Dick promptly. "But I know friends of yours," went on the girl. "I am Miss Mabel Hanford, and I know Birdy Lee, who lives in your town--I mean in the place where you come from. She and I used to be great chums. We went to school together." "Indeed," said Dick. "Birdy Lee and I are well acquainted." "So she said when I wrote to her, telling her I was coming to this ball. She suggested that I might meet you, and when I heard your name mentioned, I couldn't help speaking." "I am glad you did," said Dick, smiling. "Won't you come over and let me introduce you to my mother?" went on Miss Hanford. "I feel as if I had known you a long time, for Birdy often spoke of you in her letters to me." "I am glad she did," said Dick, gallantly. Mrs. Hanford greeted him kindly, evidently approving of her daughter's action. "May I have the next dance?" asked Dick of the daughter. "Yes," said Miss Hanford, blushing a little. "But I hope you don't think I spoke to you just to have you dance with me----" "Not at all," Dick hastened to say. "Because my card is nearly filled now," she went on. "I hope I may find room to put my name down in several places." "You may look. I think the next waltz is open." "It seems to be the only one," said Dick, ruefully. A little later he and the girl were sailing about the room to the strains of a dreamy waltz. Dick was a fine dancer, Miss Hanford was his equal, and the two made a pleasing appearance on the big ballroom floor. "Where were you?" asked Paul, as Dick came walking up to him after the young millionaire had taken his partner back to her mother. "I was looking for you to introduce a girl to you." "I managed to meet one myself." "Who?" "Miss Mabel Hanford." Paul whistled. "What's the matter?" asked Dick. "Isn't she all right?" "I should say so! Every fellow here is anxious to dance with her, but Dutton seems to monopolize her. He seems to think he's engaged to her." "I don't believe he has any right to think that," spoke Dick warmly. "She's a very nice girl. I wish I had met her earlier in the evening." The band was playing another waltz. "So do lots of other fellows, I guess. But you're doing pretty well. There goes Dutton with her now," continued Paul. Dick looked on, with envious eyes. Though Dutton and Miss Hanford were waltzing about, she did not seem at ease. Her face was flushed, and Dutton looked angry. When the dance came to an end he left her abruptly. Dick strolled over, casually, though his heart was beating faster than usual. "You look warm," he said to the girl. "Yes, the room is very close," she replied, and she fanned her face with a filmy lace handkerchief. "Perhaps you would like an ice." "Indeed I should." "I'll get you one," promised Dick. Then, waxing bold, he looked at her program. "What are you looking for?" she asked with a laugh. "To see what sort of ice I prefer? It's not there, but I'll take orange, if you can get one." "I was looking to see, if by any good fortune you had another vacant place on your card." "I'll make one for you," she said with a smile, as she crossed out a name. "Tantrell can look for another partner," she added. "Who may Tantrell be?" asked Dick, as he put his name in place of the erased one. "My cousin. He brought me here, but he doesn't care much for dancing. I know he'll be glad to have you relieve him." "Not half so glad as I am," retorted Dick quickly. "Now I'll get you the ice." As he walked away he saw Dutton eyeing him angrily. "Probably he doesn't like me to be talking to her," thought Dick. There was quite a crush in the refreshment room, and, in spite of the fact that he was a member of the arrangement committee, Dick had some difficulty in getting an ice for Miss Hanford. As he struggled through the crush of gay dancers with it he tripped, and, to save himself, involuntarily threw his hands forward. The ice slipped from the plate, and went splashing full against the back of a cadet dressed in an elaborate Colonial uniform, with a white satin coat. The highly-colored ice made a big, blotchy stain on the garment. The cadet whirled like a flash. It was Dutton. "Who did that?" he cried, as he saw a little puddle forming at his feet, where the fast melting ice lay. "I did," answered Dick promptly. "It was an accident, Captain Dutton." "An accident?" There was a sneer in the other's tone. "An accident," retorted Dick, as he turned away. "Here! Where are you going?" cried Dutton. Several turned to stare at him, for his manner toward Dick was most insulting. "I am going after another ice for Miss Hanford," said the young millionaire quickly. "Wait a minute!" ordered Dutton, in the voice he used on parade. "Not now," drawled Dick. "Wait until I get another ice." "You wait, I say!" spluttered Dutton. "It's too hot," replied Dick, for he could not help but notice the insulting tones. "I'll see you later. I'm sorry about the accident." "That was no accident," declared Dutton. "You did that on purpose, and I--I want----" But Dick passed on. He saw Miss Hanford looking at him from among the fringe of spectators, and, as he walked back to the refreshment room, he noticed that Dutton had one of the mess-hall attendants wiping off as much as possible of the stain from the white satin coat. CHAPTER XXII THE CHALLENGE When Dick secured another ice, and took it to Miss Hanford, he found her sitting in a quiet corner. She was rather pale, and did not seem to care much for the ice which he had had such trouble in securing. "I'm not quite so warm now," she said, in explanation. "It was very kind of you to get this for me. Do you--do you think Captain Dutton will be very angry at you?" She seemed anxious. "I don't see why he should be," replied Dick. "It was an accident. I could not help tripping." "After you went back the second time, he talked loudly about you having done it on purpose, and he said he was going to demand satisfaction," went on the girl. "Will he?" "Well, he can demand it, I suppose," said Dick slowly, "but I don't know what I can do, except to say I'm sorry, and offer to pay for his coat." "Do you--do you think he will do anything--anything desperate?" asked Miss Hanford, and she looked at Dick sharply. "Of course not," he replied. "But if we are going to dance, would you mind if we began now? I think this is my two-step." She arose, and they went whirling about the room. But she was strangely quiet. Dick's enjoyment of the dance was not a bit lessened by seeing Dutton once more scowling at him from behind a draped pillar. The cadet captain had doffed his gay coat, and wore one belonging to his uniform. It formed a strange contrast to his otherwise Colonial costume. When the dance was over Dick saw him beckoning, and, excusing himself from his fair partner, he walked to where Dutton stood. "You wished to speak to me?" asked Dick. "Yes. Come outside." "What for?" "I wish to speak to you." "Won't it do in here?" "No!" snapped Dutton. Dick hesitated a moment, and, not wishing to quarrel with the captain in the ballroom, he followed him out on a verandah. "What do you mean by insulting me, and making me ridiculous?" demanded Dutton fiercely. "Insulting you?" repeated Dick. "That's what I said. You refused to come back when I called you. I'm your superior officer." "Not on an occasion like this!" exclaimed Dick, and he drew himself up, and looked Dutton straight in the eyes. "We are all equal here to-night, Captain Dutton. I take no orders from you!" "We'll see about that. Why did you deliberately spill that ice over me? You wanted to make me the laughing stock of everyone in the room!" "I did not. You have no right to say that. It was an accident, pure and simple, and I have already apologized to you for it." "That is not enough. No one can insult me with impunity. I demand satisfaction!" "I don't see what satisfaction I can give you--unless I buy you a new coat. If that is what you what you want I will be happy to send you a check for whatever amount----" "Hold on, Hamilton!" cried Dutton hoarsely. "This is going too far! You're getting mighty fresh. I suppose because you are a millionaire you think your money will do anything. But I tell you it won't. You can't buy a gentleman with money, nor make one either. You come here with a lot of millions behind you, and you think all you need to do is to insult a gentleman, and then offer to pay for it. I tell you I'll not stand it. You did that on purpose and----" "I have already told you that I did not." "And I say you did." There was no mistaking Dutton's meaning. Dick took a step forward. His face was slightly pale. "That will do!" he said sternly. "Are you aware that you have practically accused me of telling an untruth?" "That's what I meant to do," answered Dutton fiercely. "You're a cad--a sneak--you threw that ice at me on purpose!" "If you say that again," exclaimed Dick, "I'll----" "Well, what will you do?" sneered Dutton. "I think I shall have to buy you two coats," spoke Dick calmly, for he saw that Dutton was losing control of his temper, and the young millionaire wanted to end the affair. "Don't you give me any of your fresh talk!" cried the captain. "I shall say what I please on an occasion like this," responded Dick. "I have that privilege." "You have, eh? Then look out for yourself!" Dutton fairly leaped forward, and endeavored to strike Dick, but the young millionaire was too quick for him, and stepped to one side, at the same time involuntarily shooting out his fist, which caught the bully in the side. Dutton stopped short. "I suppose you know what striking a gentleman means," he said slowly. "I do when I hit one. I haven't struck any gentleman to-night," said Dick coolly. "You're adding insult to it. You've got to give me satisfaction for this!" "I suppose so. You recall how it turned out last time." "This time will be different. You won't get off so easily." "Have your own way about it. I guess Paul Drew will be my second again, but I should think you'd had enough of fighting." "Not with you! I'll never be satisfied until I've beaten you!" "Then you'll wait a long time." The two had talked in rather low but tense tones, and they were not aware that they were directly beneath a window that had been opened to let in the fresh air. Nor did they see the frightened face of a girl at the casement. "Will after the ball suit you?" asked Dutton, as he turned aside. "Any time." Dick remained in the cool winter air a little longer, filling his lungs with the oxygen, and when he returned to the ballroom he saw no sign of Dutton. Nor did he see Miss Hanford, though he looked for her, as he had another dance coming. Supper was served soon after this, and Dick had no sooner risen from the table than Paul Drew signalled him to step one side. "Dutton has sent a challenge to you by Stiver," he said. "I expected it." "Yes, but what do you think he wants?" "What?" "To fight with swords." "Swords?" "Yes. Like the students do in German schools. Heads and body protected so you can't either be more than scratched. I think it's silly, but of course I said I'd tell you." "That's right. Swords, eh? Well, with football helmets on, and a baseball chest protector, and heavy gloves, I guess it won't be dangerous. But what's the use of fighting if some one doesn't get hurt? I prefer my fists." "Dutton's idea seems to be for you both to be rigged out as we are when we practice with broadswords on horses," said Paul, referring to one of the drills taught at the school. "Well, I don't like to object," said Dick, "but it strikes me that as the challenged party, I have the choice of weapons." "So you have. I forgot that. Then you don't want swords?" "I'll tell you later. You can inform Dutton I'll fight him when and where he pleases, and that, as it's my right, I'll name the weapons when we meet." "All right. Give him a good lesson, Dick." Paul went off to carry the message, and Dick, seeing Miss Hanford, went up to her for the waltz. She gave him a place made vacant by the inability of her partner to claim her, as he was on the supper committee. Dick thought the girl seemed nervous and alarmed, but he did not speak of it. The dance lasted until two o'clock in the morning, and then the guests began leaving. Dick was somewhat surprised to see Miss Hanford in apparently earnest conversation with grizzled Major Webster, but he concluded that she was only telling him what a good time she had had. "Won't you call and see me sometime?" she asked Dick, as she bade him good-night. "I will be pleased to," he said. "And don't--don't have any quarrel with Captain Dutton," she said, with a little smile. "Er--oh, no, I--I--er--I won't," was all Dick could stammer. He resolved that he would have no more quarrels, but it was too late to stop this one. As the last of the guests were leaving, Paul sought out his roommate. "The clump of trees, down by the lagoon," he whispered. "In an hour. What about weapons? Dutton wants to know." "He'll have to wait. I'll bring them with me. It's my privilege." A little later Dick went to his room, where he was busy for some time. When he emerged he was accompanied by Paul. He wore his long cape overcoat, and something bulged beneath it. "I guess he'll be surprised," commented Paul. The clump of trees, which Dutton had selected as the place for the duel, was located on a little point of land that jutted out into the lake, and near a small lagoon. It was some distance from the academy buildings, and out of sight. The trees had kept most of the snow from the ground, and it was a sheltered place. As there was a full moon there was no need of other light. As Dick and Paul approached the place they saw several dark figures moving about. "They're on time," whispered Paul. "Yes. I hope the Colonel doesn't hear of it." As they drew nearer, Stiver stepped forward and said: "Is your man ready, Drew?" "All ready." "Then we demand to know the weapons. My principal will object to pistols, as they make too much noise." "My principal has the choice of weapons, as you know, and unless he is allowed to exercise it we must decline to fight." Paul spoke as though it was very serious. "I know, but, hang it all, man, we can't fight with pistols. We'd have the whole crowd down on us," objected Stiver, in some alarm. "I'll not fight with pistols," put in Dutton, which was a wrong thing for a brave duelist to do. "Don't be worried," replied Dick coolly "I have not selected pistols. But we are delaying too long. I am ready." "So are we," said Stiver, but it was observed that his voice was not very steady. He was beginning to wish he had had nothing to do with this. It seemed to be getting serious, and he, as well as Dutton, wondered what Dick could be carrying under his overcoat. "Take your places," said Paul. "But the weapons," insisted Stiver. "My principal will hand one to your principal as soon as he takes his place," went on Paul. "We seconds must retire to a safe distance." "They--they aren't rifles, are they?" asked Stiver, and this time his voice was very shaky. "They are not rifles," said Dick, somewhat solemnly. "Come, I can't stay here all night. I want to write an account of this to Miss Hanford." "Don't you dare!" cried Dutton. "Hush! Take your place," said his second. Dutton approached Dick, and held out his hand to receive his weapon. Dick unfolded his coat and extended--not a sword or gun, but a big bladder, fully blown up, and tied to a short stick. He kept a similar one for himself. "These are my weapons," he said. "I won't fight with those! It's an insult! I demand satisfaction!" fairly shouted Dutton. "Hush!" cried Stiver. "Someone is coming!" But it was too late. Several figures could be seen running over the snow toward the duelists. CHAPTER XXIII A WINTER MARCH "Quick! Here comes Major Webster!" cried Stiver. There was no mistaking the soldierly figure who was approaching. "And Colonel Masterly is with him!" added Paul. "Some one has squealed!" added Dutton, but he seemed rather glad than otherwise that the duel had been interrupted. "Cut for it!" said Dick. "Across the ice, and into the grove! We can get in the back way, and they won't know who it was out here." "Say, if they were tipped off that something like this was going to take place, they know who was in it," said Paul, as he and Dick headed across the ice which covered the inlet at one side of the wooded point. Dick thought of the conversation he had seen taking place between Miss Hanford and the major, and a light came to him. "She must have overheard the talk about swords, and she got frightened," he said to himself. "That's how the major knew." On came the dark figures over the snow, but the cadets had a good start. Across the ice they went, and were soon lost in the depths of a little grove of trees. From there they managed to gain the barracks. "Queer they didn't call after us," said Dick, as he and Paul were safe in their room. "That is sort of funny. Say, where's the other bladder?" "Dutton must have it." But Dutton didn't have it. He had dropped it as he ran, and Major Webster picked it up a little later on the dueling ground. The major held it out to Colonel Masterly. "What's this?" asked the colonel. "One of their weapons, I fancy." "Then it was all a joke. What Miss Hanford told you about the duel, she must have dreamed." "No, she says she overheard Dutton challenge Hamilton, and later on, some talk between Hamilton and Drew. She was very much frightened, and came and told me. Of course I know the cadets will fight once in a while. They wouldn't be any good if they didn't, and, though you and I know that it's against the rules, it's no more than you and I used to do. But when she spoke of swords I thought it time to take a hand." "But they didn't have swords." "Evidently not. Hamilton reserved to himself the choice of weapons, as the challenged party, she said, and it seems that he selected bladders." "But why?" "I fancy he wanted to teach Dutton a lesson. There is bad blood between them, I have heard in roundabout ways, and once Hamilton administered a good drubbing to Dutton." "Hum! Well, I don't see that there is anything for us to do." "No, only go to bed. I'm sleepy. The time was when I could stay up at a ball all night, and attend a duel at sunrise, but those days are past. I think we'd better say nothing about this." "Just as you like, major. You are in charge of the cadets. But perhaps we had better let Miss Hanford know that there was no bloody conflict." "I will. Poor little girl! She was quite worried." So that was how the duel between Dick and Dutton turned out. It did not add to the good feeling between the two cadets. Dick would have been glad to be on friendly terms, but Dutton considered that he had been made the butt of a joke, and he hated Dick more than ever. He threatened to get even until Dick sent word to him that if he liked he would meet him with bare fists as weapons, and have the matter out. Dutton knew better than to agree to this. Of course Larry Dexter heard about the duel, but at Dick's request the young reporter sent no account of it to his paper, which described the fancy dress ball at some length. Larry remained Dick's guest three days, and greatly enjoyed his visit to the academy. In order to give the cadets a taste of as many varieties of military life as possible, and to show them that they could not always expect summer weather and sunny skies, Major Webster decided to have a winter practice march. This was announced for a date late in January, and some novel features were to be incorporated. The cadets were to be divided into several small squads, and were to set off at different times from the academy, to reach a certain point ten miles distant, report there for dinner, and march back. Various routes were selected, with officers stationed at checking points, and the squad which made the best time was to receive a trophy. As the ground was quite thickly covered with snow, and as certain landmarks, plainly visible in summer, were now obliterated, the march would prove no easy one. It was to be made on horses, and only the best riders were allowed to participate. "That's the kind of a stunt I like," said Dick, the morning of the proposed winter march. "We'll have some fun to-day, Paul, old boy." "Yes, if we don't get caught in a blizzard. It looks like snow." "So much the better. That will make it all the harder. I wish I was going to lead a squad." "I don't. Who is in charge of ours?" "Allen Rutledge. He's a good rider. Well, it's almost time to start. Whew! But it's cold!" Dick's squad, in charge of Captain Rutledge of the football team, was the third to start off. They set their horses into a gentle canter, as they knew they would need all the strength of the animals ere the day was over. At first it was pleasant enough, moving along over the snow, but, as it grew colder, it was not quite so much fun. Still the lads did not complain, as they knew the training was good for them. When they had gone about five miles some flakes of snow sifted lazily down from the gray, leaden clouds overhead. "I guess we're going to be in for it before we get back," observed Captain Rutledge. "Close up the ranks, behind there. Don't straggle." They kept to their route, were checked at the proper point by an officer, and then started for the turning station. This was a hotel in a small town ten miles from the academy, and glad enough the cadets were to reach it, and find a hot dinner waiting for them. An hour was allowed for luncheon, and the feeding of the horses, and then the start back was made. This was the most difficult part of the march, as the way led through an uninhabited part of the country, at the edge of the mountain range, and the roads were seldom traveled, and not of the best. About three miles from where they had dinner was another checking station. Dick's squad reached this in the midst of quite a snowstorm. "I guess it will only be a squall," observed Rutledge, as he went in the house, where the checking officer was stationed, to report. "A squall?" observed Dick. "If this doesn't keep up until we get back, and for some time after, I'm a Dutchman." Rutledge came out of the house, followed by the checking officer, Captain Nelton. Both looked worried. "We'll keep watch for them," said Rutledge as he prepared to vault into the saddle. "Yes, I wish you would," said Captain Nelton. "They may have straggled behind, and lost the road. Have them join your squad if you see them." "What's up?" asked Dick, for an air of familiar fellowship was permitted on the practice marches. "Dutton and Stiver didn't report in with their squad, which is just ahead of ours," replied Rutledge. "We're to look out for them." "Most likely they sneaked off to have a good time somewhere," said Dick in a low voice to Paul. The pace was slower now, for the snow was deeper, and the horses were beginning to feel the strain of the long march. The flakes were falling thicker and faster, and from the rear the leader of the squad could not be seen. "Come, boys, close ranks!" called Rutledge several times. "If you stray off now you'll be in danger. Keep together." They tried to, but some horses went better than others, and it was impossible for the stragglers to keep up with the leaders at all times. Rutledge saw this and called to Dick: "Here, Hamilton, you and Drew are good riders. You take the rear, and keep it as close to me as you can. This storm is getting fierce." It was almost a blizzard now, with the wind sobbing and moaning in the trees, and the white flakes cutting into one's face with stinging force. "Take the next turn to the right," called Rutledge to Dick and Paul, as they wheeled their horses and started for the rear. They heard faintly through the noise of the storm, and answered back. They succeeded for a time in keeping the end riders up toward the front, urging their somewhat jaded horses to a trot. Then, all at once, they found themselves out of sight of the tails of the end animals. "Hit is up a little," suggested Dick to Paul. "They're leaving us." They spurred their horses ahead, but they never noticed as they bent their heads to avoid the blast that they kept straight on, instead of taking the turn to the right, where the road divided. So fast was the snow falling, drifting as it did so, that the tracks of the horses just ahead of them were almost blotted out. "They must be galloping," said Dick. "Come on, Paul." They urged their wearied horses to a gallop, expecting soon to come within sight of the rear of the squad. But, as they went on and on, the road became more impassable. The snow was at least two feet deep now, and more was falling every minute. "I can't see anything of them," said Paul, peering ahead into the white mist. "Me either. Let's give a yell." They called, but the echo was their only reply. "Can you see any tracks?" asked Dick, leaning over in the saddle, and scanning the ground. "No. Can you?" "Not a one." The lads straightened up, and looked at each other. Their steeds whinnied helplessly, complaining thus of the cold. "Dick," said Paul, "I believe we've taken the wrong turn." "I didn't see any turn to take. We've come a straight road." "I don't believe so. Rutledge said something about turning to the right." "I know he did, but I didn't see any turn." "Neither did I, but we're certainly on the wrong road now. This hasn't been traveled this winter." "Looks that way. Say, we've come up the side of the mountain. I wondered what made the horses so blown." It needed but a glance to show that this was so. Unconsciously they had taken a path leading up the mountain, and they were now on what was evidently a wood-road, in the midst of a forest. As they stood there, vainly starting about, there came a fiercer burst of the storm, and on the wings of a stinging, cold wind there came such a cloud of snow flakes that they could not see ten feet ahead of them. "We're caught in a blizzard!" shouted Dick. "We must keep close together, Paul." CHAPTER XXIV THE RESCUE OF DUTTON Through the blinding snow the two cadets tried to peer, in order to see which way they should take to get back to the academy. Neither of them was very familiar with the country, though they had been over part of it in drills and practice marches in the fall. But things wore a different aspect now. "Which way had we better go?" asked Paul, after a pause. He had to shout to be heard above the noise of the gale. "I guess the best plan is to keep down the mountain," replied Dick. "We'll strike a road sooner or later leading to Kentfield." The horses did not like to face the blast, but the young cadets forced them about, and the unwilling steeds started down the slope. Protected though they were by their heavy winter clothing and overcoats, the two lads felt the cold bitterly. But they were too plucky to give up. The horses could not be urged to more than a walk, and, indeed, faster pace was not safe, as they did not know what the snow might conceal. As they went down the mountain side they kept a watch for the sight of any objects that would indicate a road, or tell them their whereabouts. But all they could see was an expanse of snow, a whirling, white cloud of flakes, with here and there the black trunks of trees standing up like grim sentinels. "We might as well be a thousand miles from nowhere," called Dick. "That's right," answered his companion. "I wonder if we're going straight?" "Isn't much choice. We'll be on level ground in a little while, anyhow. Then the going will be better." They emerged from the thickly wooded side of the big hill, and came upon a plain, which did not look familiar. It was open country, however, and this was better than being in the woods, though the cold wind had more of a sweep over it. "Now, which way?" asked Paul. "I've lost all sense of direction." "And I'm not much better. Suppose we let the horses go as they please? Maybe they'll have sense enough to head toward their stables." "Good idea, we'll do it." They let the reins hang loose on the necks of the animals. The steeds hesitated for a moment, sniffed the air, and then started off to the left. "I hope that's right, but it doesn't seem so," said Dick ruefully. "However, anything's better than standing still in this storm." There was no let-up to the blizzard, which fairly enveloped the lads in its icy grasp. They had traveled for perhaps a mile when Dick, who was a little in the lead, suddenly cried out: "Hi, Paul! Here's a house, anyhow!" "A house?" "Yes. Straight ahead." Paul looked through the whirling clouds of snow, and saw something dark looming up about thirty yards away. "Maybe it's a barn," he said. "Even that's all right; but where there's a barn there's most likely to be a house. I guess we're all right now." Their horses stumbled on, over the uneven ground, and soon another big object loomed up through the snow. "There's the house!" cried Dick. "Come on." They managed to urge their horses to a trot, and, a few moments later, were knocking at the door of a large, white farmhouse. A pretty girl who opened it exclaimed: "Come right in. I expect you're most frozen, aren't you?" "Pretty nearly," replied Dick, as he entered with Paul. They were soon near a warm fire, partaking of hot tea, though they declined the offer of some hard cider, an invitation slyly given by the farmer, who introduced himself as Enos Weatherby. His place was about eight miles from Kentfield, and, in the course of his talk, Dick and Paul learned that Captain Dutton and Lieutenant Stiver had been at the house a little while before, and had not refused the cider. This was news to Dick, but he at once saw how matters stood. Dutton and his companion, he learned, knew the two daughters of the farmer, and had called on them during the practice march. It was on this account that they had not reported at the checking point. Probably they thought they could make a circuit, visit their friends, and join their squad in time to report at the academy, trusting to luck to explain their temporary absence. They had been gone about an hour, Mr. Weatherby said, and he showed Dick and Paul the road they had taken, a short cut to the school. "Ride down this road," explained the farmer, "cut across my big meadow, and you will come to the main highway. Keep along that until you come to the first cross road, turn to the left and you'll get to the road that leads around the lake. Then it's only a mile to the school. But you're welcome to stay all night. The storm is getting worse." "Thank you, very much," replied Dick, "but we couldn't stay. Colonel Masterly would be worried about us. We'll take the short cut home. I guess they'll call the march a dead heat as far as picking a winner is concerned." The girls added their entreaties to those of their father and Mrs. Weatherby, who had been busy at household duties, entered the dining room, to urge the cadets to remain, as she had plenty of room. But Dick and Paul would not. There was obvious disappointment in the good-byes of the two girls, but Dick and Paul cared little for that, though the two Miss Weatherbys were rather pretty, even if they were a bit silly. The two wayfarers thanked their hosts, and, feeling much refreshed and warmed, while the horses, too, had improved by the halt, they set off again. The snow was not coming down so fast, but it was much colder, and they hastened on, anxious to get to the academy. "Queer about Dutton, wasn't it?" asked Dick. "It sure was," agreed Paul. "He'll get into trouble if he doesn't look out." "Somehow he always seems to escape, but I s'pose he'll do it once too often. This must be where we turn." "I guess so. Go ahead." They turned into the big meadow, crossed it, and came out into a road that showed some signs of travel. It was deserted now, however, as the winter night was settling down. "A few more miles, and then for a good, hot supper," commented Dick "Don't talk about it," said Paul. "It makes me hungry." Suddenly his horse shied, and the cadet, looking to see what caused it, beheld a dark object, half buried in the snow, at the side of the road. "What's that?" called Dick, who had dropped a little to the rear. "I don't know. Better take a look." Dick forced his rather unwilling steed up to the object. The next moment he uttered a cry. "It's a man!" he exclaimed. He leaped off his horse, and bent closely to the black, huddled mass. Then he reached over and took hold of it. "Here, Paul!" cried Dick. "Help me!" "What is it?" "It's Dutton, and he's unconscious and half frozen. Must have fallen from his horse and struck on his head! We must get him to shelter in a hurry." Paul was quickly at his companion's side. He helped Dick lift the unconscious youth from the pile of snow. Dutton seemed to be trying to say something, but though his lips moved no sound came from them. "What's the matter? Are you hurt?" asked Dick. "How did it happen?" Dutton murmured something, but the words "horse" and "Stiver" were all they could distinguish. "Maybe he's only fainted," suggested Paul. "Rub some snow on his face." Dick tried this, but it was evident that Dutton was semi-conscious from the effects of some injury. "What shall we do?" asked Paul, who was not used to acting in emergencies. "We've got to get him to the academy as soon as possible." "Maybe we had better take him back to the Weatherbys. That's nearer." "Yes, but they wouldn't know how to take care of him. He needs a doctor. No, what we've got to do is to get him on my horse. He's stronger than yours, and can carry double. Then you ride on ahead and tell them to send a carriage." Paul realized that this was the best thing to do, and the two, after some difficulty, hoisted Dutton to the back of Dick's steed. Then Dick mounted behind him, and, supporting in his arms the unconscious cadet, he set off through the snow. Paul galloped on ahead, urging his horse to a sharp gait, and made good time in reaching the academy. There he found considerable confusion, and no little alarm, not only over the absence of Dutton, but over that of Dick and himself. Paul quickly explained how he and his chum had become lost, and told how they had found Dutton. A carriage was at once sent out, and soon the injured lad was in the hospital, where an examination showed that he was not badly hurt, having merely received a severe blow on the head. "We feared something had happened when Dutton's horse came in without him," said Colonel Masterly. "Lieutenant Stiver said that he and Dutton became separated, after losing their way, and that he could not find him. So he came here to get help, and arrived just as Dutton's horse galloped in." Dick told the colonel how he had found the young captain, but did not think it necessary to mention about the farmhouse and the two girls. "I should have stopped the march when I saw that the weather was likely to be bad," the colonel said. "However, I am glad it is no worse." Because of the incidents of the march it was called off, as far as a contest was concerned, and so no inquiry was made as to why Dutton and Stiver had failed to report at the checking point. "I tell you what I think happened," said Paul, when he and Dick were discussing it in their room that night. "Well, what?" "I think Dutton and Stiver had more hard cider than was good for them. They must have quarreled, and Stiver left Dutton, who later fell from his horse. There was no excuse for them losing each other after they left Weatherby's house, and Dutton is too good a horseman to fall off, unless he couldn't take care of himself." "Maybe you're right. I'm glad we found him, though." "So am I, though I don't believe he'll treat you any better for saving his life." "Oh, I don't know as I did that. Some one would have found him before he froze to death," said Dick. Paul's idea of what had taken place between Dutton and Stiver seemed borne out by the coldness that sprang up between the two former cronies, as soon as Dutton could leave the hospital. He hardly spoke to the lieutenant of his company. Nor was he specially cordial to our hero. In a stiff sort of fashion he thanked him for what he had done, but there was no semblance of real friendship, and Dutton's crowd did not take up with Dick, as they might, reasonably, have been expected to. With the approach of spring the baseball fever began to stir in the veins of the cadets, and several nines were formed. Dick managed to get on a freshman team, much to his delight, for he was an excellent pitcher. Nor did the members of the nine regret their choice, for Dick pulled them out of several close games by his excellent twirling, which offset the errors made by his companions. CHAPTER XXV OFF TO CAMP "Hurray!" yelled Paul Drew one afternoon, as he fairly jumped into the room which he and Dick shared. "What's the matter?" asked his chum. "Matter? Why, lots. You've passed, and so have I. We're going to be corporals from now on. That's for making good records in the spring examinations. Dutton and Hale are to be majors, I heard. I'm glad for Hale's sake, but it's going to be bad for us to have Dutton given so much authority." "Why?" "Because he'll lord it over us worse than ever. Well, it can't be helped. And there's more good news. Get up and have a war dance, you old buzzard!" "Hold on!" cried Dick protestingly, as Paul yanked him from the easy chair. "What's up?" "Lots. We're going to camp!" "Camp?" "Yes; it's just been announced. We're to go and spend one week under canvas; with no lessons to worry about, and lots of chance to skylark and have fun." "I guess there'll be instructions in tactics, and recitations, won't there?" asked Dick. "It won't be all pie." "Oh, of course we'll have to do some studying, I think." "Of course. We'll have to tell what we'd do if, leading a small force of men, we happened to meet with an overwhelming army in a mountain pass, hemmed in on every side." "I'd surrender," said Paul, with a laugh. "I wouldn't; I'd fight," said Dick grimly, and he squared his jaw after the manner of Grit, his bulldog. "Oh, well, we'll have lots of sport," went on Paul. "Of course it's for military instruction we're going, but I think we can manage to slip in a good time now and again." "Sure," replied Dick, his eyes brightening. "When do we go?" "Day after to-morrow. Orders are to get our kits in shape. We're to go in light marching order. The tents and grub will be carried in a wagon." "That's good. I hate to pack my house, and all I want to eat, on my back." The two chums fell to discussing the pleasant prospects ahead of them, some of the freshman cadets in neighboring rooms dropping in occasionally to get points on what to do and how to do it. They were interrupted by a knock on Dick's door, and for a moment the buzz of voices ceased, as if the owners had been caught in some breach of the rules. Then, as the whistled strains of "In the Prison Cell I Sit," came to them, Dick exclaimed: "It's Toots. Come on in, you old Horse Marine." Toots entered, whistling a reveille with great precision. "Major Webster wants to see you, Mr. Hamilton," he said, saluting. "Me?" repeated Dick. "Yes. In his office." "You're in for a wigging," consoled Paul. "Court martial for yours," added 'Gene Graham. "No, I'm going to be promoted to take entire command of the camp," said Dick with a laugh as he went out. He had come nearer the truth than he thought in his jesting words. He saluted the major, who returned it, and bade him be seated. "Ah, Hamilton, by the way, before I forget it, let me say that I haven't heard anything about that marksman's medal yet," said Major Webster, referring to the one that had fallen from the pocket of Toots. "When I hear anything I'll let you know. But that wasn't why I sent for you." Dick thought it couldn't be anything serious, or the major wouldn't have begun in this fashion, so he waited. "I have been looking up your record, Hamilton," went on the old soldier, "and I am very much pleased with it. So much so, in fact, that I am going to promote you, temporarily, and give you a command." Dick's heart began to beat rapidly. "During this encampment," went on the major, "we wish the new cadets to get a good idea of the value of military training, and what this academy stands for. I think that by this plan of mine they will gain more knowledge in a week than they otherwise would in two months. Now I am going to take all the cadets who recently arrived and form them into two companies. One you will have entire charge of, as captain. The other I will select a captain for. Yours will be known as Number One Company, to distinguish it from the regular lettered commands I want you to give the freshmen as good an idea as you can of what a military life here means." "What am I to do?" asked Dick. "Take entire charge of them. See that they are shown everything, from how to load a gun, vault upon a horse, put up a tent, build a camp fire, mount guard and so on. At the end of the week's camp we are going to have a sham battle." "A sham battle?" "Yes, off in the woods. The cadets will be divided into two armies, and we will play the war game just as the regulars and volunteers do. In a sense the lads in your care will be volunteers, and perhaps they will do better than the regular cadets. That part is up to you." Dick resolved that if he could bring it about his company would gain some honors. "Your command will be part of the fighting force in the sham battle," went on the major, "and it will depend on yourself how they behave. The rules of the sham battle will be announced later, but I want you to get ready for your shoulder straps," and he smiled at our hero. "Well," thought Dick, as he left the major a little later, "I got to a captain's stripes before I knew it--but it won't last very long," he added, somewhat regretfully. Dick thought ruefully that, even with this temporary promotion, he was hardly fulfilling the conditions of his mother's will. He was certainly not popular with the great body of students, and he began worrying lest he be sent to his Uncle Ezra. As he walked back to his room, he recalled a letter he had received from his father that day, stating that Mr. Hamilton would remain abroad longer than he had originally planned. "It doesn't look as if I was going to make good," thought Dick, gloomily, as he entered his apartment. "What was it?" asked his chums eagerly, as he came back. Dick told them. "A sham battle!" cried Paul. "That's the stuff! Hold me down, somebody, or I'll stand on my head, and if I do I'll split my new uniform. Hold me, somebody, do." "I will," volunteered 'Gene Graham, and he obligingly tilted Paul up, so that he turned a neat summersault over his bed. "I guess that'll hold you for a few moments," observed Stanley Booker. "Now tell us more about it, Dick." Which the young millionaire proceeded to do. Never was there such excitement in Kentfield academy as when it became known that, in addition to the camp there was to be a sham battle. On every side was heard talk of ambuscades, skirmishing parties, rear attacks, retrograde movements, waiting for reinforcements, deploys and bases of supplies. Dutton sneered openly when he heard of Dick's promotion. "I suppose he thinks he'll do wonders with those freshies," he said. "Maybe he hopes he'll win the battle by coming up with them as reinforcements." "Well a small force has turned the tide more than once, Dutton," Allen Rutledge reminded him. "I don't think Hamilton can do it, though," was the reply of the bully. The start for camp was made on a bright, sunny morning, and the line of cadets, in field uniforms, with their guns over their shoulders, the sun glinting from the polished barrels, made an inspiring picture. "Isn't this glorious?" said Dick to Paul, near whom he was marching. "Silence in the ranks!" snapped Major Dutton, though there was no need for the command. CHAPTER XXVI THE SHAM BATTLE Forward marched the cadets, keeping step to the lively air of the fifes, and the accompanying rattle and boom of the drums. But regular formation and step were not maintained for long, only until the young soldiers were on the main road, when they were allowed to break step, and proceed as they pleased, the companies, however, keeping together. It was an all day's tramp to camp, and they stopped midway on the road for lunch, the baggage wagons having been halted while the regular cooks of the academy, who had been taken along, prepared the meal. "Wait until we get the tents up," said Dick, "then we'll have some fun. Nothing like life under canvas in the summer." "Right, Captain Dick," replied Paul, trying to talk with part of a chicken sandwich in his mouth. Dick had not yet assumed his new command, but would as soon as camp was pitched. They got to the place about five o'clock, and found that the tents had been unloaded from the wagons, and that the cooks had their white shelter already set up, and were preparing supper. "Now, boys," said Major Webster, "I want to see how soldierly you can do things. You have had considerable practice in putting up tents, at least you older cadets have; now let's see how you have profited by your instruction." In a short time the scene was one of great activity. Cadets were straightening out folds of canvas, laying out ropes, driving in tent pegs and, in less than half an hour, where there had been a green field, it was now dotted with spotless white peaked-roof houses of canvas. "Very well done," complimented Colonel Masterly, who came out of the headquarters tent to look at the sight. "Very fine, indeed, major." "Yes, I think they did well." The next work was to dig a trench about each tent so that rain water could not settle about it, and this was quickly accomplished. This done the camp had a fine appearance, the tents being arranged in rows or company "streets." By this time supper was announced, and the way the cadets put away the good things which the cooks had provided made those servants open their eyes. They were used to hungry boys eating, but they almost forgot to allow for the extra appetites created by work in the open air. It was some time since a general camp had been held at the academy. After guard mount, sentinels were posted and orders given that no cadet would be allowed to leave camp. In spite of this some of Dutton's crowd, including himself, ran the guard that night and were nearly caught. However, this was to be expected, and it was considered no great crime. The next day Dick was given charge of forty freshmen, and he took great delight in starting their instruction. There were drills to attend, lessons in tactics to learn, the best method to observe on a march, and illustrations given in artillery firing, for several field pieces had been brought along to use in the sham battle. Cavalry exercises occupied a part of every day, and though the cadets had plenty of leisure they found that their time was pretty fully occupied, for Colonel Masterly and his staff wanted practical benefit to be derived from the camp life. Target practice in the open proved to many a cadet who had done well on the ranges that he had plenty yet to learn. "I wish they'd hurry up and have that sham battle," remarked Paul to Dick one night. "Heard anything about it?" "It takes place to-morrow," replied our hero. "Blank ammunition will be served out the first thing in the morning, and final instructions given. My company is to form part of the attacking party." "That's good. I wonder where my bunch will be stationed? I wish I was an officer." "It will come in time. You're to be on the defense, I believe. So is the company of freshmen that Foraker has charge of." "Well, it won't make much difference. I'll not fire on you, if I can help it." "That's good." The plan for the sham battle was announced the next morning, after each cadet had been supplied with many rounds of blank cartridges. The young soldiers were divided into two equal commands. Somewhat to Dick's disgust Major Dutton was given charge of the attacking party, of which the millionaire's son and his young lads formed a part. Harry Hale, the football coach, who had also been elected a major, was to be on the defensive. The latter army was to occupy a wooded hill, back of the camp. At the foot of it ran a small stream, and to get at the defenders of the mound the attacking party would have to build a temporary bridge, which work was included in the instruction imparted at the academy. To cover this operation, the artillery of the attacking party would be brought up, but, at the same time, the field pieces of the defenders might pour a devastating fire on the bridge builders from above. The holders of the hill were to be stationed at the rear limits of it, while the attackers were to start their march about two miles from the foot of the slope. It was figured out that if the defenders could bring up their artillery, and other forces, and attack the enemy before a bridge could be built across the stream, the holders of the hill would win the battle. On the other hand, if the attackers could succeed in getting a body of cadets across the stream before a heavy artillery or rifle fire could be poured into them, they would win. The promptness of firing, the number of shots and general quickness were to count. At the appointed time, Major Hale and his force took possession of the hill, and Major Dutton led his army two miles back, on the plain in front of it. Dutton issued his orders. "We'll try to surprise them," he said to his young officers. "We'll swing around in a half circle, and instead of building the bridge at the easiest place to cross the stream we'll try it farther down. They won't suspect that we'll come there, and we'll gain some time." "But they'll have their pickets out," observed Russell Glen. "They'll see us." "I'll send some of you to another point to pretend to build a bridge," decided Dutton. "That'll draw their fire, and they'll start their artillery toward that place. Before they find out that it's only a bluff we'll have the real bridge half done." As the cadets had a record of building a thirty-foot bridge of the "A" style inside of four minutes, it seemed that Dutton's plan might be a good one. "How are you going to carry the planks and spars for the bridge?" asked Glen. "On the field piece carriages?" "No, we'll carry them ourselves. We can close up ranks so they won't see the boards." This looked like a good plan, and the cadets made ready to carry it out. "Hamilton," said Dutton sharply to our hero, "you'll take the rear guard, and stay there until you get orders to come up." This was rather hard on Dick. It practically put him and his freshmen out of the battle, unless Dutton should order them to the front, and he was not very likely to do this. Still Dick could not object, and he made the best of it. "Won't we see any of the fighting?" asked one of his command. "Maybe so," replied the young millionaire. "They may need us for reinforcements." Dick could not help but give Dutton credit for making his plans well. The young major led his men to the designated point, taking advantage of such inequalities of the ground as there were to conceal his movements. The ropes, beams and planks for the bridge were distributed among the cadets, several of them being required to carry the heavier pieces. The strongest lads were used for this work, and their rifles were taken in charge by their less-burdened comrades. Then, when all was in readiness, Dutton gave the command to advance. He led the way, at the head of a company of infantry, while back of that came his cavalry force, and to the rear of that was massed his artillery, while Dick led the rear guard of freshmen. Straight at the hill advanced the attacking army, while from convenient points Colonel Masterly and his staff of officers watched to decide who won. "Skirmishers, advance!" ordered Dutton, and several cadets detached themselves from the cavalry and rode forward. As they approached there were puffs of white smoke from the slope of the hill, and the sharp crack of rifles announced that the pickets of Major Hale's force were on the alert. The skirmishers returned the fire, and then galloped back to report. "They're waiting for us," Dutton was informed. "So I see," he replied. "Now, then, we'll halt here a moment. You fellows that are to pretend to build the bridge, get ready to rush when I give the word. I'll send one field piece as if to cover your movements. Are you all ready there, Stiver?" for Lieutenant Stiver, with whom Dutton had again gotten on friendly terms, was to lead the fake movement. "All ready," was the answer. "Then go!" Out from the attacking force rushed a squad of cadets, bearing light planks. Of course, from the hill, it looked as if they were the advance guard of bridge builders. Particularly when there dashed out a field piece, drawn by galloping horses. As the cadets approached the bank of the stream, and began to arrange their planks, the lads in charge of the cannon quickly wheeled it, unlimbered and fired the first shot. There was a white puff of smoke, a burst of flame, and a great bang went rattling and echoing among the hills. The battle had opened. As Dutton had expected, his ruse deceived Hale. The latter quickly ordered up his entire artillery to shell the intrepid bridge builders. Dutton, watching through a field glass, saw the approach of the cannon. "Forward march!" he cried to his main command. "Double quick!" Quickness was everything now. Off they started, the real bridge builders and nearly his entire force, including Dick and his youngsters in the rear. They circled around a turn in the stream, and, for a time, were out of sight of the small force left to bear the attack. "Build the bridge here!" ordered Dutton. "Lively now, boys. See if you can't break the record." The cadets needed no urging. Two of them quickly plunged into the stream, and, partly swimming, partly wading, carried over some ropes. By means of these they pulled over spars and planks, which, when several of their companions hurriedly joined them, they proceeded to lash together. The same operation was going on among the cadets on the other side of the brook. Two long spars were laid down on the ground, at right angles to the stream. At the further extremity of these spars a cross piece was lashed, projecting on either side. Ropes were attached to the projections, and the unconnected ends of the long spars, being held down to the ground by several lads, the others quickly raised the connected ends, just as a painter hoists a long ladder. The same thing took place on the farther side of the brook, and, when both squads were ready, the two parts of the bridge that were to form the two slanting sides of a double letter "A" were allowed to incline toward each other, from either side of the water, cadets having hold of the ropes, regulating and guiding the long spars. The big sticks met in mid air, over the centre of the stream, and, being well braced at the bottom, held. Then cadets climbed up on either side, and united them more firmly by lashing them. Something like a double letter "A," but without the cross piece, now spanned the brook. Or, perhaps, it would be more correct to say that it was a double inverted "V." It was necessary to put on cross spars, and lay planks on these, or the artillery and cavalry could not get over. And, as there were no spars long enough to reach all the way across the stream, two sections had to be used on either side of the bridge. They were to be tied together, and supported at the centre, or place of joining, by long ropes, attached to the apex of the letter "A." Though up to this time the main attacking party had not been fired on, they could not hope to escape much longer. Already puffs of white smoke from the hillside indicated that they had been seen by pickets. A minute later Dutton's trick was discovered, and Hale ordered his artillery to cease firing on the fake bridge builders, and to turn their attack on the others. But Dutton was ready for this. He had his field pieces in position, and, as soon as he saw that his soldiers had the bridge well under way, he began shelling the defenders, who were rushing down the hill to the attack. The infantry also began to pour in a withering fire. The ropes, by which the long spars had been lowered and inclined across the stream, now served as guys to hold them steady and in place, while the floor beams were being put in position. "Lively!" cried Dutton. "They're making it too hot for us! We must cross soon, or we'll lose! They came at us quicker than I expected!" Meanwhile the little force that had started to build the fake bridge had (theoretically) been killed. Now the long floor timbers were in place, being supported at the centre by long ropes, hanging from the point of the "A," and the cadets were beginning to lay cross planks on them. "Tell the cavalry to get ready to advance, to protect our crossing," ordered Dutton, to one of his captains, and the troop of lads on their restless steeds prepared to rush across the bridge at the first possible moment. It had only been a little over three minutes since the building of the structure was started, but a heavy artillery fire was being concentrated on the attackers, and, in accordance with instructions previously given, cadets began dropping out, being supposed to be killed. Dutton's field pieces were pounding away, and there was a thick cloud of smoke, which partly concealed the movements of his cadets. "Bridge is ready, major!" reported a smoke-begrimed lad, running up, and saluting. Then he hastened back to continue firing on Hale's soldiers. "Advance, cavalry!" shouted Dutton. "Lively now! Charge!" The horses, urged on by their shouting riders, thundered over the frail bridge. It trembled and swayed, but it supported them. "Forward, the infantry!" cried the young major. "On the double quick! Here they come down the hill at you! Fire at will! Charge!" Down the slope of the hill came rushing the defenders. Behind them thundered and rumbled their artillery, which was supporting their brave advance in the face of the enemy. "Artillery, forward!" shouted Dutton, waving his sword, and hoping, by throwing his entire force suddenly upon Hale's army, to overpower it, and get in more shots than could his opponent. That meant he would win the battle. "Shall I stay here?" cried Dick, for he had received no orders what to do with his force, and was still on the farther side of the bridge. "Yes! Until I send for you, or you see that you are needed," called back Dutton. "I guess I can get along without you." Louder roared the cannon; and the cracks of the rifles of the infantry, and the carbines of the cavalry, was like the explosion of pack after pack of giant firecrackers. Then something happened. As the three field pieces rumbled across the bridge, there was an ominous cracking and splintering sound. Dutton heard it and turned back from his rush, which he had started on to be in readiness to lead the charge of his artillery. He saw the bridge swaying. "Come on! Come on!" he cried, waving his sword. "Come on!" But it was too late. The middle supporting ropes had slipped, and the bridge collapsed at the centre, letting horses, cannon and cadets down into the stream, which, fortunately, was not deep. Dutton had, at one blow, lost all his artillery, while Hale's was advancing to annihilate him and his force. The boom of the defenders' field pieces sounded nearer and nearer, while their rifle fire became hotter than ever. Dutton saw himself defeated by the inopportune collapse of the bridge, which had been insecurely lashed together. But he would not give up. "Forward! Forward!" he cried. "Split up and attack 'em on both sides." His cavalry and infantry rushed forward, firing as they ran. Dick Hamilton, left with his little body of troops on the other side of the stream, saw his opportunity. "Quick!" he cried to his lads. "We'll go back and get the guns at the fake bridge. Then we'll pull it across and we'll see if we can execute a flank movement." "That's the stuff!" cried some of the lads, who had begun to fear they would never get a chance to fire their rifles. Dick led his men on the double quick to where the field piece, from which only a few shots had been fired, had been left. He saw a chance to turn defeat into victory. CHAPTER XXVII DICK WINS THE CONTEST Dutton was desperate when he saw the most efficient arm of his little force thus wiped out. He did not turn back to help the cadets in charge of the horses and guns, however, as he knew they could look after themselves. And this they did, though they had to cut the traces to get the horses loose from the guns, and then haul the field pieces out by hand. This took some time, and when the cannon were safe on the other shore they could not be used because the harness was cut and the horses could not pull them. Besides the guns had turned over and the working parts were all wet. But Major Dutton had not yet given up. He divided his cavalry and infantry into two divisions, giving Captain Beeby charge of one, and taking the other himself. Dutton took advantage of a little hollow which, for a few moments hindered the advance of the defenders, to execute this move, and he hoped to be able to turn the flank of Hale. "Make as wide a swing as you can," he advised Beeby, "and maybe you can get to him before we have to give up," for according to the rules of the sham battle about half of Dutton's force was now wiped out. It showed his spirit when he was unwilling to send for Dick's reinforcements, but he decided he would not owe victory to the lad he hated, if he could help it. Beeby got well away with his cadets before Hale and his forces appeared around a little mound on the big hill. Then, though it was hard work to handle his artillery there, the major of the defenders made a stand and gave pitched battle to the contingent led by Dutton. For a time the fight waged furiously, but it was unequal, as Dutton had no cannon with which to reply to the bombardment he was suffering. Nor could his cavalry advance to good advantage up the slope, while Hale's had no difficulty in coming down. "Now, if Beeby would only get there," thought Dutton, "we might win yet!" Alas for his hopes! Hale had suspected some such movement, and had held back a reserve force. Skirmishers saw Beeby advancing through the woods, and gave the alarm. Then Hale brought up a field piece he had not yet used, and opened fire on Beeby's contingent, which Dutton hoped would have saved him. There was no help for it. He was on the point of ordering a retreat, as the only way of saving a part of his force. Still he had a considerable number of cadets left, and they had plenty of ammunition. Meanwhile Dick and his freshmen cadets had not been idle. Under his directions they unhitched the six horses from the cannon, and, by attaching ropes to the piece they pulled it across the stream on a raft they improvised from the boards used to construct the fake bridge. Thus the piece was saved from getting wet. The fake bridge builders, who had (theoretically) been killed, offered no objection. They could take no further part in the battle. "Who are the best riders?" asked Dick, and several lads modestly offered themselves. "You'll be the cavalry," said the young commander. "You are only six, but you'll do for what I want, which is mostly bluff." He gave the artillery horses to six lads, and bade them ride across the stream, which they easily did. "Wade and swim for the rest of us," said Dick grimly. "Hold your rifles above your heads, for, though the cartridges are water-proof, it doesn't do the mechanism of a gun any good to get it wet. Lively now. We'll be too late if we don't hurry. They're keeping up quite a heavy artillery fire." The eager cadets needed no urging. They crossed the stream in good order, not being observed by either Dutton's force, or by the defenders of the hill. On the other side Dick looked for the easiest and best way of climbing the hill, and going to Dutton's aid. He saw a sort of trail leading up, and, from the direction of the firing, he knew that he could, if undiscovered, take Hale on his left flank, Beeby having tried to turn the right unsuccessfully, though Dick did not know this then. It was hard work urging the horses up the steep hill, and harder still for the cadets to drag up the field piece, and the limber filled with ammunition, little of which had been used. But they did it, and on they went. Dick, coming out on a little projection, could see the battle in progress between Dutton and Hale. The latter had all but won, and the attackers were fast being driven back. They were a mere handful of cadets now, many having been "killed" by the merciless fire. Being "killed" in theory meant that a certain number had to drop out every minute, and could take no further part in the battle. Of course Hale had a number of soldiers "killed" also. "Hurry!" cried Dick to his lads. "We're only just in time. A little farther and we'll plant the field piece and open fire. Then we'll charge down." The lads dragged the cannon a few hundred feet farther up the hill. Then, screening it behind some bushes, Dick told off a number of cadets to work the gun, they having had previous practice. "Ready!" he called, and to the surprise of Hale, no less than that of Dutton, the woods echoed to the report of artillery where none was supposed to be. A white puff of smoke on Hale's left flank told him that some movement was in progress over there. He was about to order one of his guns to reply to the unexpected bombardment, when there came a ringing shout from the same quarter, and, above the cheer, Dick Hamilton yelled: "Charge!" Down upon the all but victorious defenders of the hill rushed the little force of six cavalrymen. Behind them, leading about thirty cadets, who were as fresh as daisies, came Dick. "Charge! Charge!" he yelled, and then he ordered the lads to open fire. They did it with a will, for they had not had a chance to use their guns yet, and they were wild to do so. What a fire they poured into the ranks of the defenders. How the one lone field piece, well screened by bushes, sent shell after shell (theoretically) screaming into the midst of the enemy. Hale was all but demoralized. He had seen victory just within his grasp, and now he was attacked by fresh reinforcements. Dutton had been too much for him, after all, he thought. As for Dutton, he hardly knew what to make of it. He could not understand how Dick had been able to lead up his forces, to execute a successful flank movement, and, above all, to bring a field piece to bear. Hale was now in desperate straits. Encouraged by seeing reinforcements Dutton's men turned with cries of gladness to renew the attack. Hale tried to reply to them, but his ammunition was getting low. Closer in came Dick and his lads, pressing on Hale's flank. On the other side Beeby, with the few cadets he had left, returned to the attack. In front Dutton and a handful of soldiers poured in a fire. But Dick's was the fiercest, aided as it was by the cannon. There was nothing for Hale to do but to retreat, and he had his bugler sound this mournful call. Up the hill he and his men went--what was left of them--while after them rushed Dick, now leading the attack. "Surrender! Surrender!" cried Dutton. "We've got you!" "I guess you have," admitted Hale. "But if Hamilton hadn't come when he did there'd been a different story." Dutton did not reply, nor did he glance at Dick, who, seeing that the battle was over, had ordered his command to cease firing. But, though Major Dutton did not acknowledge that Dick had saved the day, he knew it, and so did his men. Major Webster, however, did not withhold his praise. "Hamilton, you did splendidly!" he cried enthusiastically. "That was a master stroke to ford the stream, take the gun over, and use the horses for cavalry. Major Dutton, thanks to Captain Hamilton, your forces have the honor of having won the sham battle. I congratulate you. I am proud of my cadets, even the losers." "Three cheers for Major Hale!" called Dutton, who was politic, if a bully. The camp rang with the shouts. "Now three cheers for Major Dutton!" called Hale, and the huzzahs were louder than before, for Dutton had a magnetic attractiveness in spite of his mean ways with those whom he did not like. "Three cheers for Captain Hamilton!" called Paul Drew, but, though Dick's freshmen nearly yelled the tops of their heads off, the cheer for our hero was noticeably weaker than either of the two preceding ones. Dick smiled grimly, but he knew he had done good work that day. CHAPTER XXVIII UNCLE EZRA AT KENTFIELD The rest of that day, and far into the night, ignoring the warning of tattoo and taps, the cadets discussed the sham battle. It had been a glorious affair, and they fought it all over again in their tents, the defeated ones explaining that if "this" had happened, "that" wouldn't have taken place. "But for all that, you can't deny but that Dick saved the day for Dutton," argued Paul. "He certainly did," was the general reply. The battle practically ended the military instruction at camp. The next day was devoted to resting and light drills. Several lads had received severe sprains or bruises, due to their haste or enthusiasm, and one horse had a cut leg caused by the accident to the bridge. There was some disposition to criticize Dutton for not seeing that the structure was secure before sending his artillery over, but Major Webster declared that as no serious accident had resulted no fault could be found. As for the young major it was bitter for him to have to admit, as he grudgingly did, that he would have failed but for Dick Hamilton. Another day spent in camp, when all discipline was relaxed, and the cadets were allowed to do about as they pleased, brought the outing to a close. Then all sorts of tricks were played, and more than one crowd of freshmen found their tent coming down unexpectedly about their heads that night, as the mischief makers loosened the pegs. Bright and early the next morning the tents were struck, the baggage was loaded into the wagons, and the "hike" to the academy was begun. The cadets fell into line, and with swinging step, to the tune of "The Girl I Left Behind Me," paraded off the camping ground. It was rather hard to settle down again to the grind of lessons, but Colonel Masterly and his colleague knew how to handle boys, and in between study and recitation periods were drills and cavalry and infantry exercises so that gradually the routine was resumed again, and every one felt better for the outing. One day, as Dick and Paul came in from the campus, they saw a notice on the bulletin board. It was to the effect that candidates for the 'Varsity baseball team would report in the gymnasium that night. "That's the stuff!" cried Dick enthusiastically. "Are you going to play?" asked Paul. "Sure. Why not?" "Well, you didn't get much show at football last year." "Can't help it. I may this time." "Dutton is just as much against you as ever." "I know it, but I may get a chance just the same. I'm going to begin training, and I'll keep at it until the last game." Dick was as good as his word. He rather hoped he might make the regular nine, but he learned that Dutton and his set were against him, and the best he could do was to be named as a substitute shortstop. The season opened rather badly for Kentfield, for they lost the first game, and that against a small college team. It was because Captain Rutledge was so confident that he did not play his men with any vim, and several bad fumbles cost them the game. They won the first of the championship contests with Mooretown academy, and lost the second, making it a tie, and so the third game, which would be played at Kentfield that spring, would be an important and the deciding one. Dick got an opportunity to play on the regular team once during the last few innings, but as the game, which was with a small college, was won by the cadets before he went into it, his performance did not receive much credit. "If I only get a chance to play against Mooretown," he said to Paul, "I'll be satisfied. Anyhow, I'm one of the subs." It was the day of the great and deciding game with Mooretown. Dick was struggling into his trousers and blouse in his room, when Toots brought him word that there was a visitor for him in the reception room. "Who is it, Toots?" he asked. "I haven't much time. Most of the fellows are already on the diamond." "He says his name is Honeybee, as near as I can make out." "Honeybee," repeated Dick, much puzzled. "Oh, it must be Larabee. It's my Uncle Ezra!" Then a look of annoyance came over his face. "If I go down to see him he'll keep me from the game," he thought. "I haven't any time to spare. He'll lecture me about the waste of time in playing baseball, or the danger of it, or something like that. Or he may want me to show him around the academy. No, he's not likely to do that, for fear he'd wear out his shoes. I wonder what in the world he can want, anyhow? But if I see him now I'll never get a chance to play. I'll not see him." "Toots," he said, "tell my uncle that I have an important engagement, and ask him to wait until I come back." "All right, Mr. Hamilton," replied the janitor. "Shall I tell him what it is? Maybe he'd like to see the game," and Toots softly whistled "Just Before the Battle, Mother." "No! No! Don't tell him!" exclaimed Dick. "He thinks baseball is wicked. Just say--say anything you like except that. I'll come back as soon as the game's over--if I'm alive. He won't mind waiting. It will give him a chance to think." Which perhaps was not exactly polite on Dick's part. He hurried off, leaving Uncle Ezra in the reception room, wondering what important business his nephew had that kept him so long. And, by not seeing his Uncle Ezra, Dick missed hearing a bit of news that was destined to make a great change in his affairs. But he heard it later, as you will see. While our hero was on his way to the field, hoping that he would get a chance to play, Uncle Ezra sat in the reception room. He was not very impatient at the delay. As Dick had said, it gave him a chance to think. Presently the door opened, and Russell Glen looked in the apartment. He was in search of Dutton, having been told the young major was there. Not seeing his friend, he was about to withdraw, with an apology for having disturbed Mr. Larabee. "Are you one of the students here?" asked Dick's uncle, who was getting rather tired waiting. "Yes. I'm in my second year." "Ah, then you must know my nephew, Richard Hamilton?" "Oh, yes, I know Dick." "Richard is his proper name," corrected Mr. Larabee stiffly. Glen nodded, and was about to go out. "If you see him, I wish you would tell him to hurry," went on Mr. Larabee. "I have been waiting for some time for him, but he sent word that he had an important engagement, and would see me later." Glen guessed what the "engagement" was, so he merely nodded. "I want to see him very particularly," continued the aged man, "as I have some important news for him. It may make a great difference in his life. In fact, I'm sure it will." Glen opened his eyes at this, and decided not to go just yet. "Has some one left him some more millions?" he asked in a joking tone. "Far from it," said Mr. Larabee in solemn accents. "Eh?" asked Glen, wondering what was coming. "I always said it was foolish for my sister to leave Richard so much money," went on Mr. Larabee severely, "and I told Mortimer Hamilton that he was risking his money to go to Europe. Now, what I said would happen has happened." "Is Mr. Hamilton in trouble?" asked Glen, not a little rejoiced to find that difficulties were in store for Dick. "Well, I'd call it trouble to lose nearly all my fortune. But it serves Mortimer right, and Richard also." "Has Mr. Hamilton lost his money?" inquired Glen, coming closer to Mr. Larabee. "Practically so." "And Dick?" "A large part of his is gone also. It was invested with Mr. Hamilton's. I received word of it yesterday, and I hurried to come here and tell him. A New York bank, in which Mr. Hamilton was largely interested, and in which were most of Dick's funds, as well his father's, has failed." "Then Mr. Hamilton isn't a millionaire any longer?" "I fear not." "And Dick?" asked Glen eagerly. "He has very little left." "Whew!" whistled the cadet. This would be news indeed to the students. He must hasten and tell them. "That's what I came to see my nephew about," went on Mr. Larabee. "I want him to come away from this expensive school, and live with me until his father returns. Oh, the money that young man has wasted! It is awful! Terrible!" and Uncle Ezra seemed about to faint with the horror of it. "Shall I find Dick for you?" asked Glen. "I wish you would, young man. I want to tell him this news, and take him back with me. I have a return ticket on the railroad, and if I stay over night it will be no good. Besides I am afraid my hired man will use kerosene oil in starting the fire if I am not home by morning, and he might burn down the house. One can not be too careful of money. Mortimer and my nephew are a terrible example. Find him for me, if you will, please." "I will," promised Glen, hurrying away. "My word!" he exclaimed as he ran out on the campus. "Hamilton's money all gone! Then he's no better than the rest of us now. He'll come down a peg or two." Considering that Dick had never tried to hang himself on a "peg," this seemed a useless as well as cruel remark. "I wish I had borrowed a hundred from him yesterday, instead of fifty," mused Glen, as he hurried on toward the baseball field. As he neared it he heard shouts and cheers. "The game's started," he exclaimed, as he broke into a run. CHAPTER XXIX DICK'S GREAT RUN Dick Hamilton hurried across to the players' bench, tightening his belt as he ran. "If I only get a chance to play," he kept thinking. "I don't care what happens after that, nor what Uncle Ezra may want." The game soon started, and it began to look bad for Kentfield, for the outfielders made several costly errors, and at the ending of the sixth inning the score was eight to three, in favor of Mooretown. "Looks rather bad," said Captain Rutledge to the coach. "Nonsense," replied Hale. "You can win yet. Take a brace, that's all." Kentfield had elected to be last at the bat, and, in the beginning of the seventh inning, when Mooretown was up, Perkins, the regular short stop, split his hand in stopping a "hot" ball. The other players gathered about him. "I guess it's all up with us now," remarked Dutton, from his seat in the grandstand. "We haven't got anyone who can play like Perkins. Hamilton is green. Our goose is cooked." "Say, I've got some news about Hamilton," spoke Russell Glen, worming his way to Dutton's side, during the lull in the contest following the injury of Perkins. "I don't care. I want to see how this game is coming out." Perkins walked to the bench, blood dripping from his hand. "Hamilton!" cried Captain Rutledge, and Dick sprang from the bench, pulling off his sweater. His chance had come. "Hamilton's going to play," said Dutton. "Oh, what a score they'll roll up against us! They'll knock all their balls at him, and he'll miss them. What were you saying about Hamilton?" he went on, turning to Glen. "This is tough luck, though!" "Hamilton has lost all his money!" cried Glen, and his tone seemed to show that he relished the news. "No!" "Fact. His uncle told me," and Glen related the story he had received from Mr. Larabee. Dutton was greatly surprised, and so were several other cadets who overheard what Glen had said. But there was little time to speculate on it, as the game was under way again. Whether it was Dick's presence at shortstop, or because the other players on his team braced up, was not evident. At any rate, Mooretown was held down to a goose egg in that inning, and when it came the turn of Kentfield to show what the nine could do in the ending of the seventh inning, there were three runs to the credit of the cadets, Dick having made one. "The score is six to eight!" murmured Glen to Dutton. "Hamilton isn't doing so bad." "No, but he would if he knew all his money was gone, I guess." "Maybe we ought to tell him," suggested the sporty student. "I wish I could," murmured Dutton. The game went on fiercely. It was nip and tuck all the while now, for Kentfield's chances had improved wonderfully, and they were fighting hard to win. In the eighth inning neither side scored. There was an anxious look on the faces of all the players as the ninth opened. Mooretown could afford to smile, however, as she was still two runs ahead. At first it looked as if she would pile up several more tallies on this score, for the Kentfield pitcher gave two men their bases on balls, and the next man got to first on an easy fly. A heavy hitter was up next, and at the first crack he sent a "hot liner" straight at Dick. Our hero did not flinch, though the impact was terrific. He caught the ball squarely, and the batter was out. Then, by a neat double play, Dick and the third baseman put out another man who was trying to steal home. The next batter struck out, retiring Mooretown without a run, but still leaving them two ahead. "Now, fellows, we must show them what we're made of!" cried the captain. "We want three runs this inning!" Captain Rutledge did his share by getting one, and another was brought in by a narrow margin, tying the score. "One to win!" cried the coach. "Hamilton up!" announced the score keeper. "And two out!" added Dutton to Glen. "He can never do it. We're dumped already." Dick took his place at the plate. It was a trying ordeal for a substitute player, and the eyes of all the spectators were upon him. The result of the game, in a great measure, depended on him. If he did not get the winning run, it meant that the game would go another inning, and the chances of Kentfield would not be improved. For their pitcher's arm was going "back on him," and Mooretown's man was still good for much twirling. Amid a silence that was almost painful, Dick waited for the first ball. It came, but he did not move his bat. "One strike!" called the umpire, and there was something like a groan among the Kentfield players. The next was a ball, and the following one looked as if it was going fairly over the plate. But Dick did not attempt to hit it. "Two strikes!" It was like a death knell. "He's cutting it pretty fine," murmured the captain nervously. "Hamilton's all right," said Coach Hale confidently. A moment later there came a resounding crack, as Dick's bat met the ball fairly. The horsehide went up in a graceful curve, and then sailed far out toward right field. "Go on! Go on! Go on!" yelled Captain Rutledge, but his voice was lost in the roar that greeted Dick's hit. The young millionaire was leaping toward first base, while the right fielder was sprinting after the ball. "A home run! A home run!" begged the coach, and it looked as if Dick would do it. He got to third, and started for home. The fielder had the ball by this time, and relayed it to second. The man there threw it to third just as Dick left. Possibly it was an error of judgment, but Dick kept on. He could distinguish no coaching instructions now above the yells, though Hale was calling to him to remain on the bag. But Dick kept on. Then, by some curious chance, the third baseman, instead of sending the ball home, held it in his hand, and raced after Dick. It was a contest of legs now. The baseman ignored the demands of the catcher to throw the ball, and leaped after Dick, who ran as he had never run before. He saw a vision of the game won, and, though his breath was coming in labored gasps, he did not stop. There was a mist before his eyes. His legs were tottering. "Jove! But he can run!" whispered Dutton. "I never saw anything like it!" "You bet!" agreed Glen fervidly. On and on ran Dick. One quick glance over his shoulder showed him the baseman at his heels. He expected every moment to see the catcher get the ball, and put him out. But the horsehide did not come, and, the next instant, when Dick felt as if he could not go another inch, or draw another breath, he dropped, and slid home in a cloud of dust. "Safe!" cried the umpire, and, as he spoke, the baseman, realizing the proper play, threw the ball. But it was too late. Dick had brought in the winning run. "Wow! Wow! Wow! Hamilton! Hamilton! Hamilton! Whoop!" yelled the frenzied players. Above their shouts could be heard the shrill cries of many girls. From the stands burst forth mighty cheers. A crowd of the cadet players surrounded Dick and would have carried him on their shoulders had he allowed them. They patted him on the back, and even punched him in their uncontrollable joy. "Hamilton, you're entitled to the thanks of the entire school!" cried Coach Hale, rushing up, and wringing Dick's hand. "We never could have won but for you!" admitted the captain. "Wow! but it was a fierce game!" and he sat down on the grass to recover his wind, after his lusty cheers. They escorted Dick back to the dressing room in a sort of triumphal procession, scores of cadets pouring from the stands to join it. Never did a hero takes his honors more modestly. It was enough for Dick that he had helped win the victory, and he saw coming to him now what he had waited nearly a year for--fellowship. Through the throng came Dutton and Glen. "I say, Hamilton," called Glen, "your uncle's waiting for you." "I know it," answered Dick. "But I couldn't talk to him until after the game." "He's got news for you--bad news," went on Glen, with the relish some persons seem to take in telling of calamities. "What is it?" inquired Dick, alarmed by the cadet's words and manner. "Your father's fortune is wiped out, and so's yours! The New York bank has failed!" For an instant Dick stared at the speaker. Then a changed look came over his face. He stepped forward, his suit covered with dirt, his face bleeding from a scratch, and still panting from his great run. "My fortune lost?" he said. "I don't care a hang! We've won the game!" There was a moment of silence so surprised were the cadets at the manner in which Dick took the news. Then Glen cried out: "My word, but you're plucky! Three cheers for Hamilton--who used to be a millionaire--but isn't any longer," he added, and Dick's ears rang with the joyous shouts. CHAPTER XXX A BROADSWORD COMBAT "Well, Nephew Richard, I've been waiting some time for you," said Uncle Ezra Larabee a little later, when Dick, having gotten out of his suit and donned his cadet uniform, went into the reception room. "I've been here for some time, and very likely I've lost my train, but I couldn't go back without seeing you." "I'm sorry I kept you so long, Uncle Ezra," replied Dick, "but you see I was in a baseball game, and I couldn't leave until we won. It was very important to win." "Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed the old man. "Baseball is a dangerous and wicked game. It leads to all sorts of trouble. When I was a boy we played such sensible games as tag and blind-man's buff. Baseball! The idea!" "The cadets of Kentfield would look pretty playing tag," thought Dick, but he did not say anything. "I have some bad news for you, Nephew Richard," went on Uncle Ezra. "I suppose you wonder what it is." "I know." "You know?" "Yes, Glen told me." "Oh, he must be the young man whom I was talking to. Well, I regret very much to be the bearer of such ill tidings," went on Mr. Larabee, "but, if you are hoping that it is not true, you are much mistaken. I received word from New York yesterday that the bank in which was most of your father's wealth, as well as your own, which your mother, my sister, so foolishly left you----" "Sir!" cried Dick, for he could not bear to hear his mother spoken of in that way. "Well, I think it foolish to leave a youth so much money," said Mr. Larabee, "and now my judgment is confirmed. You are no longer a millionaire." "I don't know as I care much," said Dick coolly. "My money didn't do as much as I expected it would." "Foolish, perverse youth," murmured his uncle. "But you must make a change in your plans. You can no longer stay at this expensive school. You had better pack up your things and come home with me to Dankville. I will look after you until your father comes home from Europe. Doubtless I may be able to get you a position in a woolen mill in which I am interested. If you hurry we can take the late train, and I will be able to use the excursion ticket I bought." Dick considered matters a moment. Then he said: "I don't think I'll go with you, Uncle Ezra." "Not go with me? Why, what will you do?" "Stay here and finish out the spring term. I'm just beginning to enjoy himself. There are only a few weeks left." "But how can you? You have very little, if any, money." "My tuition and board are paid up to the end of this term," said Dick calmly. "I have considerable money on deposit in the Kentfield bank, that I drew out from my funds at Hamilton Corners, when I came here. That will last me for some time. I think I prefer staying here to going back to--to Dankville." "Well, of all the foolish, idiotic, senseless, rash proceedings I ever heard of!" exclaimed Uncle Ezra. "The idea! You will stay here and use up what little money is saved from the wreck of your fortune! Why, maybe you could get a rebate on what has been paid for board and tuition." "I shouldn't think of asking for it," said Dick. "No, I think I'll stick it out here." There was a movement at the door, and something came into the room, something that slid up to Dick, and began wiggling at his feet. "Quiet, Grit, old boy," he said. "Is that your bulldog?" asked Uncle Ezra. "Yes; he was too lonesome at home without me, so I sent for him. He stays in the stable." "Another foolish and useless expense," murmured the old man. "Oh, what is the world coming to!" Dick didn't know, so he didn't answer. "Think well," went on Mr. Larabee. "You had better come home with me. I can get you work in the woolen mill." "I'll stay here," replied Dick firmly. "Then I wash my hands of you!" exclaimed the aged man. "Never appeal to me for help! I am done with you! Of all the foolish, thoughtless, rash youths I ever met, you are the worst; and your father----" What Mr. Larabee would have said about Mr. Hamilton he never finished, for Grit, hearing the voice of a man he considered his enemy, made a rush from under the table where he was lying, and growled as though he was going to sample Uncle Ezra's legs. "Take that brute away!" exclaimed Dick's crabbed relative, but before the order could be executed Mr. Larabee turned and fled from the room, Grit pursuing him as far as the hall. "I guess we've seen the last of him for a while," mused Dick. "Eh, Grit, old boy?" The bulldog nearly shook off his stump of a tail. "Well, I guess I had better write to dad, and find out how bad things really are," he went on. "Still, there's no use worrying. I got along all right before I knew I was a millionaire, and I guess I can now when I'm not." Someone looked in the reception room. It was Glen. "I say, Hamilton," he remarked, "the boys are looking all over for you. They want you to lead a procession. We're going to have a grand celebration, burn the uniforms, and break training to celebrate the victory. Hurry up!" "This is worth losing one's money for," thought Dick, as he took his place at the head of the procession of merry, shouting, laughing cadets. "I'm getting to be popular, I guess." Indeed, whether it was his victory on the diamond or the loss of his money, it would be hard to say, but, at any rate, more cadets made friends with Dick that night than had done so in his whole previous time at Kentfield. But though Dick had won the hearts of the baseball nine and their friends, he was still far from being one of the really popular lads in the school. Dutton and his cronies held aloof from him, and many followed their example. But, unexpectedly, there came a great change in Dick's life, and Dutton was partly responsible for it. Dick and some of his companions were at broadsword exercise on horseback one day, while, on the farther side of the cavalry plain, there was a class drilling in artillery, under the direction of Dutton. Dick was fencing with Lyndon Butler, when suddenly Dutton's steed, frightened by the discharge of a cannon near it, reared, throwing the young major off. Dutton's foot caught in the stirrup, and he was dragged along, unable to release himself, while six artillery horses, drawing a heavy gun, dashed down the field and seemed about to collide with the youthful major's animal. Dick saw a chance to save his enemy, and turned his horse quickly, to make a dash. So rapid was his movement that Butler's sword gave him a gash in the face, Dick forgetting, in the excitement of the moment, to guard himself. With the blood streaming from a cut on his cheek Dick urged his horse at a gallop until he had caught Dutton's runaway mount. He did it only just in time, for, as he pulled the beast, still dragging the young major, to one side, the artillery steeds dashed over the spot. Dutton would have been killed but for Dick's prompt act. Major Webster rode up quickly, and was glad to find that neither Dick nor Dutton was seriously hurt. "Who caught my horse?" asked Dutton, as he struggled to his feet. "The last I remember was seeing him running toward the artillery animals, and I made up my mind there'd be quite a smash when they met." "They didn't meet, thanks to Dick Hamilton," said the elderly major. "He stopped your horse just in time." "And got a nasty cut into the bargain," added another cadet. Dick was beginning to feel a trifle dizzy. He turned aside. Dutton took a step forward, in spite of his strained ankle. "Hamilton," he said, and there was a husky note in his voice. Dick turned back. "Hamilton--I--er--I--I--will you shake hands?" asked Dutton suddenly, and he seemed much affected. Dick grasped the outstretched hand, and the two, one of whom had been an unrelenting enemy of the other, looked into each other's eyes. "Hamilton," went on Dutton, still holding Dick's hand, "I don't know how to thank you. Will you--will you forgive me?" "Oh--there's nothing to forgive," said Dick. "Yes, there is," said Dutton huskily. "I've treated you--I've been a cad, that's what I have! I didn't like you at first--I thought you were proud of your millions. I didn't like the idea of you being here--I was jealous, I guess. I wanted to make you quit. It was I who tied your dog to the saluting gun, and tried to throw the blame on you. I've done other mean things. I--I----" "Forget it!" said Dick so heartily that the other cadets laughed, and thus broke what was becoming quite a strain. Major Webster, when he heard the beginning of Dutton's confession, walked away. He was a wise old soldier, and he knew that the lads could best settle those things among themselves. "And you don't bear me any grudge?" asked Dutton, after a pause. "Not a bit. But you'd better get back to the hospital and have your ankle looked after," for Dutton was limping. "Oh, that isn't anything. It might just as well have been my head. But, say, you got a nasty dig." "Only a scratch," replied Dick with a happy laugh. He would have welcomed another one if it could have insured him such an outcome as had followed this. "I guess we'd better take you both to the hospital," said Butler, who had ridden up, fearful lest he had seriously injured Dick. And thither the two wounded cadets were taken, though their stay there was brief. It was a week after the sensational rescue of Dutton that a meeting of the exclusive society of the Sacred Pig was held in the cosy little club-house which had been built by contributions and donations of the cadets themselves or their fathers. Dutton arose and proposed Dick for membership, the election being unanimous. The next day being Saturday, was an occasion for the cadets enjoying considerable freedom. It was after the evening parade, when Dick and some of his new chums had received permission to go to town to a theatrical performance, that Major Webster sent for our hero. "I'll not keep you a moment, Hamilton," he said, "as I know your friends are waiting for you. But you remember that battered marksman's medal that Toots had, and which you requested me to investigate for you?" "Yes; have you any information about it?" "I have. I sent it to a friend of mine, an officer at Fort Laramie, Wyoming, and he has just returned it. With it he sends some surprising news." "What is it?" "That medal was issued to Corporal William Handlee, a number of years ago." "Corporal Handlee--the missing soldier--Captain Handlee's son?" "The very same." "Why, how--where did Toots get it, I wonder? Is it possible that he----" "We must ask him. I will question him to-night, and let you know the result. Hark, there he comes now." Someone was coming down the corridor, whistling the lively strains of "Yankee Doodle." "That's Toots," said Dick with a smile. "I wonder how he came to have Handlee's medal. Can he possibly be----" But at that instant there came a series of excited shouts from outside. "Fire! Fire! Fire!" Dick and the major rushed to the window. "Fire! Fire!" shouted Toots, as he ran back along the corridor. Dick saw a black pall of smoke, through which shot red tongues of flame. "It's the society house of the Sacred Pig," he cried. And it was from the windows of the meeting place of the cadets' society that the flames were shooting. CHAPTER XXXI DICK WRITES A CHECK--CONCLUSION As Dick, followed by the major, rushed from the barracks to go to the fire, the housekeeper thrust an envelope into the young millionaire's hand. "It is a telegram that just came for you," she explained. Dick shoved it into his pocket without opening it. Then he joined the throng of excited and alarmed students that had gathered about the burning society headquarters. A small fire department was maintained at the academy, but as the buildings of the school were all fireproof, the brigade was not a very large one, and was only equipped with chemical apparatus. "We must telephone for the town fire department," cried Dutton. "They won't get here in time to do much," said Major Webster. "Better save what you can inside, boys." They saw that what he said was true. There was a stiff wind blowing, fanning the flames to furnace heat. The blaze had started on the upper floor, and had already eaten its way through the roof. No one knew what had caused the fire, as there was no one in the place when it started, and it had burned for some time before breaking out. Fortunately, the structure was well away from any of the academy buildings, and there was little danger to them. "Let's save what we can!" cried Dick, and the boys began running in, carrying out such of the trophies as they could find on the lower floor. But it soon became too hot for them, and Major Webster, fearing someone would get hurt, ordered the work of salvage to cease. "Too bad!" observed Russell Glen, as he and others watched the handsome brick and stone building crumbling into ruins. "And we counted on having such sport there next term." "Well, it's insured, isn't it?" asked Dick. "We can collect the money, and build a better one." "Insured!" suddenly cried Dutton. "There, I meant to attend to that, but it slipped my mind!" "What did?" asked Allen Rutledge. "The insurance. It expired the day before yesterday." "And do you mean to say you forgot to get it renewed?" "I forgot all about it." "And haven't we a cent of insurance on it?" asked Paul Drew. "Not a penny. It's all my fault. I meant to get new policies, but I put it off and now----" "Now it's too late," said Rutledge. "You're a fine treasurer, you are." Amazement and chagrin made Dutton incapable of replying. The cadets looked on sorrowfully, as they saw their society house being destroyed, knowing that it would be no easy matter to get the money for a new one. Suddenly there was an explosion from within, and a shower of stones from one of the walls flew into the air. "Look out!" cried Dick. He and the others leaped back in time, but Toots, who was in the front rank of spectators, having helped to carry out many valued relics, did not seem to hear. A moment later a fragment of stone struck him on the head, and he fell down. "Toots is hurt!" cried Dick, running up to the odd janitor, whom all the cadets liked because of his pleasant ways. "Carry him to the hospital, boys," said the major. "I'll have the surgeon attend to him. Maybe he isn't hurt much." But from the blood on the head of poor Toots, it would seem that the wound was not a small one. Sorrowfully Dick and his chums carried the unconscious man. There was little use remaining at the fire now, for it was almost out, having consumed everything save the walls. "He isn't badly hurt," announced the surgeon cheerfully, when he had examined Toots. "Only a cut on the head. He'll be all right in a few days." Suddenly the injured man, who had been placed on a couch in the hospital, sat up. He felt of the bandage on his head. Then he looked around wildly. "Did we beat the red imps off?" he asked. "Why is it I don't hear the firing? Have they retreated? Am I badly hurt? Let me get at 'em again! I'm a good shot! I can pick 'em off!" He started from his couch, but the surgeon gently pressed him back. "What's the matter, Toots?" he asked. "Where do you think you are?" "Toots? Who's Toots? I'm Corporal Bill Handlee, and I must get back to my post. I'm a sharpshooter, and the Indians are attacking us." The surgeon looked at the injured man in amazement. He thought Toots was delirious. But to Dick the thrilling words meant much. He pressed forward. In his hand he held the battered marksman's medal which Major Webster had returned to him. "Is this yours, Corporal Handlee?" he asked. "Yes; where did you get it?" asked Toots. "But why don't some of you speak? Have we beaten off the red imps?" "Yes," said Dick gently, understanding the whole story now. "They were beaten back some years ago, Toots. Oh, I've found you at last! Won't your father be glad!" "My father?" and Toots, or, as we must call him now, Corporal Handlee, looked dazed. "My father knows where I am." "He doesn't, but he soon will," said Dick joyfully, and by degrees, he told the story of how he had agreed to help Captain Handlee locate his missing son, and how, by a strange trick of fate, he had been found. And that Toots was this missing son there was no doubt. His memory, a blank for many years, because of a bullet wound on the head, received in a fight with the Indians out west, had been restored to him. The surgeon explained it by saying that the blow from the stone, which exploded from the heat, had undone the injury caused by the bullet, by relieving the pressure of a certain bone on the brain. Such cases are rare, but not altogether unknown, he added, and persons who had forgotten for many years who they were suddenly recalled the past. Of course Toots, or, Corporal Handlee, as we must now call him, could not tell where he had been all the years that he was missing. The last he remembered was taking part in an Indian fight, and being wounded. When he recovered consciousness from the blow of the hot stone, he thought he was still at Fort Lamarie. He had forgotten all the intervening time, including several years spent at Kentfield. It was surmised that he must have wandered away after the Indian fight, recovered, though with his memory gone, taken another name, and then drifted about, until he secured a place at the military academy. That, the officers recalled, was five years ago. The corporal had not recognized his own photograph, though something in his hazy memory made him think he knew the man the picture represented. His own medal as a marksman he had supposed belong to another. "I must send Captain Handlee a telegram at once," said Dick, when the excitement had calmed down. "It will be great news for him." Leaving Corporal Handlee in charge of the surgeon, the old soldier being quite weak, and hardly able to understand all that had happened, Dick started for the telegraph office, which was not far from the school. He sent the message to the old captain, and, in getting out his money to pay for it, he put his hand in the pocket into which he had thrust the telegram the housekeeper had given him. "Guess I'd better read it," he murmured. "The fire and finding Corporal Handlee made me forget all about it." It was from his father, and was very short, but the news it contained made Dick throw his cap up into the air, and yell out in pure delight. "Wow!" he cried. "Wow! Wow! Wow!" The operator came running from his little office. "Got bad news?" he asked. "Bad?" repeated Dick "No, it's the best in the world! My dad's coming home!" "Seems to me you're making quite a fuss about it." "So would you if you knew what else he said," spoke Dick, as he rushed from the building. He found most of his chums grouped around the ruins of the society house. They were talking about the fire. "It's all my fault," Dutton was saying. "I guess I'll resign as treasurer." "I guess we won't have any society, if we can't have a meeting place," observed Hale, sorrowfully. "Say, Dutton, have you a fountain pen?" asked Dick, as he came up beside his former enemy. "I guess so. What do you want it for?" "I'll show you." Dick sat down on a pile of debris. From his pocket he took a thin, red book, and commenced writing in it by the light of the embers of the ruined society house. Presently he tore out a slip of paper and handed it to Dutton. "What--what's this?" stammered the treasurer of the Sacred Pig. "Why--why--Hamilton!" "What is it?" demanded a score of voices, as the cadets crowded up. "It's a check--a check," stammered Dutton, as he saw the figures which Dick had written in, and noted that they occupied four places. "It's a check!" "To rebuild the society house of the Sacred Pig," said our hero simply. "But I--I thought you lost all your money, Hamilton," said Dutton. "I thought so, too," replied Dick. "So did Uncle Ezra, but I cabled to dad, and it's all a mistake. He took all our funds from the bank that failed before he went abroad. We didn't lose a cent." "Then you're a millionaire yet, aren't you?" asked Dutton. "I'm--I'm afraid so," answered Dick. There was silence for a moment, and then the cadets seemed to understand what Dick had done. They looked at the piece of paper fluttering in Dutton's hand. It meant that they could have a new and better headquarters for their society. "Three cheers for Dick Hamilton!" called several, and Dick's ears rang to the sweetest music he had ever heard. They all wanted to shake hands with him at once, and they made so much noise that Colonel Masterly sent one of the teachers out to see if the fire had started afresh. "It's only the cadets cheering Mr. Hamilton, sir," replied the instructor, when he returned. "Hum! He's getting to be quite popular," said the colonel, with a smile, for he understood about Dick's handicap. And there was abundant evidence of his popularity a little later on, for they insisted on carrying Dick on their shoulders to the saluting cannon, where all important events were celebrated, and there they did a sort of war dance about him. Dick would have been glad to escape, but they would not let him. "We don't want your money, honey, we want you!" they sang. And Dick knew that they spoke the truth. He had fulfilled another condition of his mother's will, and become popular in spite of his wealth, though for a time he feared this would never happen. He had thought of a plan to pretend that he had suddenly grown poor, but Uncle Ezra's mistake made this unnecessary. "I don't know whether it's more fun to be rich or poor," thought Dick, as he went to bed that night. But he had other adventures, in which his great wealth played a part, and those of you who care to follow Dick Hamilton's fortunes further may read of them in the next volume of this series, to be called: "Dick Hamilton's Steam Yacht; or, A Young Millionaire and the Kidnappers." "Well, how are you feeling this morning, Toots--I mean Corporal?" asked Dick, about a week later, when the janitor was able to leave the hospital. "Fine. I'd never know I'd been sick. That was a lucky thing to get hit with a stone, so I could know who I really was. But I'm anxious to get home and see my father, since you say he's not well." "Oh, he's not seriously ill," said Dick. "I had a letter from Henry Darby about him. He's so pleased that you have been located, that a sight of you is about all the medicine he needs." "I can go home to him in a few days, Colonel Masterly says." "You want to give us an exhibition of shooting before you go," suggested Dick. "I'm afraid I'm all out of practice," objected the former corporal. But he was not, as he very quickly proved, when he and some chums of Dick went to the rifle range. There the soldier made bullseye after bullseye with an ease that made the cadets fairly gasp, and he did all sorts of fancy shooting, including driving a tack in a board from even a greater distance than even Captain Handlee had boasted that his son could do it. "I guess it must have been that my eyes were affected by that Indian bullet," said the corporal. "They got all right again when the stone from the fire hit me." Later, the surgeon admitted that this was probably true. A short time after this Corporal Bill Handlee joined his aged father in Hamilton Corners, and the two enjoyed many happy years together, thanks to Mr. Hamilton's generosity, and what Dick had done to solve the mystery. "Well, Grit, old boy," said our hero one day near the close of the term, as he was strolling over the campus, followed by his ugly pet, and with Paul Drew, William the Silent and some other cadets at his side, "well, Grit, I think you and I will go home soon. Dad will be home next week, and say, maybe we won't have some good times; eh, Grit?" The bulldog nearly turned a summersault to show how glad, he was. A few days later Dick and his dog were at Hamilton Corners, ready for the summer vacation. THE END Transcriber's Note: Punctuation and hyphenation have been standardised. Changes to the original publication have been made as follows: Page 2 I'll swin out farther than _changed to_ I'll swim out farther than Page 11 crawled alone _changed to_ crawled along Page 15 as well stay. Hanniabal _changed to_ as well stay. Hannibal Page 18 exicting adventures _changed to_ exciting adventures Page 29 Catpain Handlee called _changed to_ Captain Handlee called Page 33 but accidently stepped _changed to_ but accidentally stepped Page 41 amid a chorous of _changed to_ amid a chorus of Page 49 for reasons similiar _changed to_ for reasons similar Page 58 rather akward feelings _changed to_ rather awkward feelings Page 75 transfered to Dick's company _changed to_ transferred to Dick's company Page 79 annouced Dutton _changed to_ announced Dutton Page 83 suddently exclaimed _changed to_ suddenly exclaimed Page 88 asked the odd man _changed to_ asked the old man Page 95 have more acquaintences _changed to_ have more acquaintances Page 105 having disloged the enemy _changed to_ having dislodged the enemy Page 106 Very well, then, You _changed to_ Very well, then, you Page 110 He got us out of bad scrape _changed to_ He got us out of a bad scrape Page 113 stiffled the cry of pain _changed to_ stifled the cry of pain Page 115 was never know, but _changed to_ was never known, but Page 120 enjoyed by the cadtes _changed to_ enjoyed by the cadets Page 120 they offered changes _changed to_ they offered chances Page 125 All the candiates _changed to_ All the candidates Page 128 asked Dutton colly _changed to_ asked Dutton coolly Page 131 slippen into his _changed to_ slipped into his Page 146 in view of your god conduct _changed to_ in view of your good conduct Page 147 and there was an omnious _changed to_ and there was an ominous Page 149 discouraged letter to his gather _changed to_ discouraged letter to his father Page 150 were not as atractive _changed to_ were not as attractive Page 151 even enjoy the good thinks _changed to_ even enjoy the good things Page 156 the suregon's medicine _changed to_ the surgeon's medicine Page 156 preceeding one _changed to_ preceding one Page 162 Dick that something unusal _changed to_ Dick that something unusual Page 163 them toward Duton _changed to_ them toward Dutton Page 163 Suppose the fall out _changed to_ Suppose they fall out Page 166 comanded that some more _changed to_ commanded that some more Page 166 trapeezes, and a number _changed to_ trapezes, and a number Page 167 few drils, out of doors _changed to_ few drills, out of doors Page 168 patroling his post _changed to_ patrolling his post Page 183 I that is what you what you _changed to_ If that is what you what you Page 188 "Don't be worried," replied Dick cooly _changed to_ "Don't be worried," replied Dick coolly Page 204 Dutton seeemd to be _changed to_ Dutton seemed to be Page 205 what we've got to is to get him _changed to_ what we've got to do is to get him Page 208 asked hi chum _changed to_ asked his chum Page 208 as Paul yanked his from _changed to_ as Paul yanked him from Page 211 and I am very much pleased with _changed to_ and I am very much pleased with it Page 211 regular lettered comands _changed to_ regular lettered commands Page 217 to use in the shame battle _changed to_ to use in the sham battle Page 222 he cried to his main comand _changed to_ he cried to his main command Page 227 advancing to annihiliate _changed to_ advancing to annihilate Page 230 defeners of the hill _changed to_ defenders of the hill Page 240 said Mr. Larabee in solmen accents _changed to_ said Mr. Larabee in solemn accents Page 257 throw the blame on yuo _changed to_ throw the blame on you Page 264 but the suregon gently _changed to_ but the surgeon gently Page 267 Why--why--Hamitlon _changed to_ Why--why--Hamilton 
45517	----	Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 45517-h.htm or 45517-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/45517/45517-h/45517-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/45517/45517-h.zip) Transcriber's note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). THE PUTNAM HALL CADETS Or, Good Times in School and Out by ARTHUR M. WINFIELD Author of "The Rover Boys Series," "Bob, The Photographer," etc. Illustrated Grosset & Dunlap Publishers · New York * * * * * * BY THE SAME AUTHOR THE PUTNAM HALL RIVALS; Or, Fun and Sport Afloat and Ashore. THE PUTNAM HALL CADETS; Or, Good Times in School and Out. THE ROVER BOYS ON THE PLAINS; Or, The Mystery of Red Rock Ranch. THE ROVER BOYS ON THE RIVER; Or, The Search for the Missing Houseboat. THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP; Or, The Rivals of Pine Island. THE ROVER BOYS ON LAND AND SEA; Or, The Crusoes of Seven Islands. THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS; Or, A Hunt for Fun and Fortune. THE ROVER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES; Or, The Secret of the Island Cave. THE ROVER BOYS OUT WEST; Or, The Search for a Lost Mine. THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE; Or, Stirring Adventures in Africa. THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN; Or, A Chase for a Fortune. THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL; Or, The Cadets of Putnam Hall. _12mo, finely illustrated and bound in cloth._ _Price, per volume, 60 cents._ GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS · NEW YORK * * * * * * Copyright, 1901 by The Mershon Company CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. Introducing Some Cadets 1 II. The Mysterious Sloop 10 III. A Case of Bribery 19 IV. Electing a Major 29 V. Off on a Picnic 38 VI. An Odd Bit of Punishment 47 VII. How the Boat Races were Won 56 VIII. The Cadets to the Rescue 66 IX. The Chums Make a Call 74 X. In the Hands of the Enemy 84 XI. A Great Game of Football 92 XII. Happenings after the Game 101 XIII. The Circus, and a Monkey 110 XIV. All about a Tiger 120 XV. Prisoners of a Wild Beast 129 XVI. Off on a Long March 138 XVII. Mumps Sees a Ghost 147 XVIII. The Young Major Shows His Courage 156 XIX. The Result of the Nutting Party 165 XX. Out in the Cold 175 XXI. The Boys "Hold the Fort" 185 XXII. Josiah Crabtree is Nonplused 194 XXIII. Buried under the Snow 203 XXIV. A Challenge Accepted 210 XXV. How the Fight Ended 217 XXVI. Friends in Need 225 XXVII. The Punishment of a Bully 233 XXVIII. The Results of a Fire 241 XXIX. The Disappearance of George Strong 249 XXX. A Lucky Escape--Conclusion 257 INTRODUCTION My Dear Boys: In bringing out this story, "The Putnam Hall Cadets," the initial volume in the "Putnam Hall Series," I feel it necessary to make an explanation why it is that this tale is brought out when I have already written so much concerning the doings of the students at Putnam Hall. Ever since I presented to the boys the first volume in the "Rover Boys Series," I have been urged by the boys--and girls, too, for the matter of that--to write something concerning the doings of the students at the Hall previous to the coming of the Rover boys on the scene. When the Rovers arrived they found a wide-awake, jolly crowd of cadets already there, some of whom had been at the academy several years. My young friends wished to know more about these, and it is for their benefit that I have instituted this new series, which will tell of many things that happened at the famous seat of learning from the time it was first opened to the present day. Putnam Hall is an ideal boarding school for boys, located on the shore of a beautiful lake in upper New York State. The students there are bright, manly fellows, full of vigor and fun, and bound to get the best there is out of school life. There are some keen rivalries, and in the story are related the particulars of a mystery which had an unlooked-for ending. In offering this first book of the new series I wish to thank the thousands everywhere who have written to me regarding the "Rover Boys Series." It does my heart good to know that the tales have been so well liked. I trust sincerely that the present story meets with equal approbation. Affectionately and sincerely yours, Arthur M. Winfield. _July 25, 1905._ THE PUTNAM HALL CADETS CHAPTER I INTRODUCING SOME CADETS "Hurrah, Jack, I've got news! To-morrow we are going to ballot for officers!" "I'm glad to hear that," answered Jack Ruddy, as he threw down the algebra he had been studying. "I was almost afraid we weren't going to have officers this term." "I suppose Captain Putnam wanted to find out if there was any military material here before he let us fellows take charge," went on Pepper Ditmore, as he swung himself up on a corner of the dormitory table. "Tell you what, Jack, it's a great thing to organize a school like this, and get everything in working order, all in six weeks." "Do you think you are organized, Pep?" queried Jack Ruddy, with a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm organized about as much as I'll ever be," returned Pepper Ditmore. "You can't expect a fellow like me to settle down and be as quiet as a lamb, can you?" "No, you're more like a jumping-jack. The fellows don't call you the Imp for nothing." "It's a base slander," returned Pepper Ditmore, with an injured air. "I'm as meek, sometimes----" "When you are asleep." "As a--a----" "Circus clown. By the way, have they found out yet who mixed the salt and sugar last Saturday?" "Can't say as they have." "And who put that little bulldog in Josiah Crabtree's bedroom in the dark?" "They haven't asked me about it," and now Pepper Ditmore began to grin. "Then let me congratulate you on your escape," and Jack Ruddy smiled broadly. "Let's change the subject, Jack. Don't you want to be an officer of the Putnam Hall Cadet Corps? I should think that would just suit you. Your father was an army officer." "It would suit me first-rate. But the fellows don't know much about me. Most of them are strangers to me." "Well, they are mostly strangers to each other. If you want to become an officer, say the word and I'll do the electioneering for you." "Don't you want to be an officer yourself?" At this question Pepper Ditmore gave a merry laugh. "I'd make a fine-looking officer, wouldn't I?" he returned. "No, I'll remain a high private in the rear rank--and take my sport in some other way." "And you expect me to be an officer over you, Pep? How in the world will I manage you?" "By not trying, Jack. But come, are you going to be an officer or not? As a battalion, we are to have a major, two captains, two first lieutenants, two second lieutenants, and a lot of sergeants and corporals. I want to see you a captain at least." "That's kind." "I'd rather see you an officer than that Dan Baxter. Do you know, Jack, I don't like that chap at all." "No more do I. He is very overbearing. I heard him bossing some of the little fellows around in regular slave-driver style." "Well, he shan't boss me around." "Oh, it's not likely he'll bother the big boys," came from Jack Ruddy, as he arose from his chair and stretched himself. "Those chaps usually make the little fellows toady to them. What time is it?" "Just five o'clock." "Then come on down to the lake and have a row before supper." At that moment something soft, thrown up through the open dormitory window, struck Jack Ruddy on the shirt bosom. It was a lump of mud, and it left quite a mark behind. "Hi, there, who threw that?" he cried, angrily, as he rushed for the window. He was just in time to see a lank youth diving out of sight behind some bushes. "I know that lad," came from Pepper Ditmore. "His name is John Fenwick, but they call him Mumps." "I'll Mumps him!" retorted Jack Ruddy. "Come on!" And he rushed out of the dormitory, and down the broad stairway three steps at a time. He was just near the bottom when he passed a tall and rather sour-looking teacher, who was coming up. "Master Ruddy, not so fast----" began the teacher, when of a sudden Pepper Ditmore struck the man on the shoulder, hurling him flat on his back at the foot of the stairs. "Oh, excuse me, Mr. Crabtree!" burst out the cadet. "I--er--I didn't mean to run into you!" "Yo--you imp!" spluttered Josiah Crabtree. "What do you mean by tearing downstairs like a--a cyclone?" "We're after a fellow who threw some mud up into our room," explained Jack Ruddy. "I didn't see you coming," added Pepper. "Very sorry--it shan't occur again." "This jumping downstairs has got to be stopped!" fumed Josiah Crabtree. "I shall make an example of you, Ditmore. Go back to your classroom and write this sentence one hundred times: 'It is best to walk with care.'" "Have I got to go back now?" cried Pepper. "At once." "It isn't fair, Mr. Crabtree. I didn't mean to run into you; really, I didn't." "Stop! I want no back talk. To the classroom instantly." "Mr. Crabtree," put in Jack Ruddy, "please----" "Silence, Master Ruddy, or I shall send you, too." "Catch that boy if you can, Jack," said Pepper, and walked slowly towards his classroom. Josiah Crabtree saw him enter, and saw Jack Ruddy leave the building, and then continued on his way upstairs. Jack Ruddy and Pepper Ditmore were chums. Both hailed from the western part of New York State, and they had arrived at Putnam Hall about a month before this tale opens. Jack was a few months older than Pepper, but the youths were of the same size and weight. Jack was of a serious turn and studious, while Pepper was rightly called the Imp, on account of his fun-loving disposition. At the time of which I write, Putnam Hall was a new institution of learning. It was located on Cayuga Lake, in New York State, not many miles from the village of Cedarville. It was a handsome structure of brick and stone, standing in the middle of a parade ground of about ten acres. In front was a well-kept wagon road, and beyond this the grounds sloped down to the lake, where were located the academy boathouse and bathing houses. To the rear of the school were the barns and a storehouse, and on one side a well-fitted-up gymnasium, all backed up by a stretch of thick woods. On the ground floor of the Hall, which was built in the shape of the letter E, were located the classrooms and also a drillroom and a messroom, all reached by three entrances, each of imposing appearance. Above the ground floor were the sleeping apartments, those for the students divided into dormitories holding four, six, or eight cadets. The master of the school was Captain Victor Putnam, a bachelor, and a West Point graduate. The captain had seen strenuous service in the West, where he had fought under the gallant General Custer during several Indian uprisings. But a fall from a horse had placed him on a sick bed, and when he regained his health he decided to give up army life, and go back to his former profession of teaching. Money had been left to him, and with this he purchased the grounds and built the academy. As was to be expected from a military man, the school was organized upon military lines, and each cadet was given instructions in military duties daily. All were clothed in neat but serviceable uniforms, and there was a general parade each day, just before supper. To get the school into proper shape, Captain Putnam had hired three retired officers of the army to drill the boys daily. Under their tuition all of the scholars had learned rapidly, and now the master of the Hall was about to let the cadets choose their own officers and do their own drilling, under his sole management. Captain Putnam was a well-educated man, and taught several classes in the school, besides looking after the general management. His head assistant was Josiah Crabtree, just introduced, and his second assistant was George Strong, whom we shall meet later. Josiah Crabtree was a morose individual, with a very exalted opinion of himself. He had come to the Hall with high recommendations, but it cannot be said that Captain Putnam liked the man, and as for the cadets, they nearly all hated him. Leaving the building, Jack Ruddy hurried to the spot where his chum had seen the boy called Mumps. He found the boy talking earnestly to a big, burly youth, who carried a baseball bat in his hand. "It was lots of fun," Mumps was saying, as Jack strode up. "I struck Andy Snow, and Hen Lee, and some fellows in dormitory No. 4, and----" "And you struck me, you sneak!" cried Jack, catching the boy by the arm. "I suppose you thought it fine fun to cover me with mud." "Hi! let me go!" cried Mumps, in sudden alarm. "Let me go. I--I--didn't do anything." "You threw a lump of mud up into our room and struck me." "I--I--didn't----" "You can't get out of it. I've a good mind to box your ears, Mumps." "Say, you let that kid alone," came from the big boy with the baseball bat. "Leave him alone, I say!" "See here, Dan Baxter, this is none of your quarrel," retorted Jack. "Let him alone." "I'll let him alone when I feel like it." "You'll let him alone now." "Will I?" Jack caught Mumps by the collar and shook him thoroughly. "Now, after this, you behave yourself, or I'll thrash you good," he went on. "Oh! oh!" screamed the boy. "Le--let up! Don't--don't shake my head off!" "Stop it!" roared Dan Baxter. "Stop it!" And rushing in he took hold of Jack and tried to draw him back. "Baxter, let go of me," said Jack, quietly, but with determination. "If you don't----" "What?" came from the big youth with a sneer. "That!" retorted Jack, and turning from Mumps, he gave a quick push that sent Dan Baxter flat on the turf. CHAPTER II THE MYSTERIOUS SLOOP The attack had come so unexpectedly that for the moment Dan Baxter did not know what to do. In a dazed fashion he sat up, and finally scrambled to his feet. Mumps, the toady and sneak, gazed at Jack Ruddy in wonder. "You'll catch it for that!" he cried. "Dan Baxter'll most kill you!" "He has got to spell able first," murmured Jack. "See here, what did you do that for?" spluttered Dan Baxter, when he could collect himself sufficiently to speak. "I told you this was none of your affair!" answered Jack. "After this you attend to your own business, and I'll attend to mine." "I told you to let up on Mumps." "Well, you are not my master, Baxter." "Mumps is under my protection." "What you mean is, that he is one of your toadies." "I ain't anybody's toady," came from John Fenwick, but his face grew as red as a beet. "Yes, you are, and you're a sneak in the bargain," said Jack. "I've a good mind to give you a crack with this," burst out Dan Baxter, as he swung his baseball bat aloft. "Here, don't you hit Jack Ruddy with that!" came a voice from the rear, and on the instant another cadet caught hold of the bat. "Thanks, Andy," came from Jack. "But I don't think he'd dare." "So you're going to take part in this too, eh?" said Dan Baxter, turning to the newcomer. "Oh, I only want to see fair play," answered Andy Snow, a tall, slender boy, who was a good deal of an acrobat, and at the head of the gymnasium class. "Andy, were you up in your dormitory a while ago?" questioned Jack. "Yes." "Did you get hit with a lump of mud?" "Yes. I'd like to spot the rascal that threw it." "I was hit myself. That's why I came down after Mumps." "So you're the guilty party, eh?" cried Andy Snow, stepping up to John Fenwick. "Don't!" screamed the lank boy, and turning, he ran off at top speed. "Come on, Dan!" he called out, when at a safe distance. "Don't have anything more to do with 'em!" By this time a crowd of a dozen was beginning to collect. Dan Baxter gazed around uneasily. "We'll settle this some other time," he muttered, and edged away. "Better settle it now," retorted Jack. "I--I've got something else to do," faltered Dan Baxter, and then he turned and followed his toady. "Baxter is afraid of you, Jack," came from Andy Snow. "He's a bully if ever there was one." "He certainly is a bully." "A thrashing would do him good." "Well, he'll get it unless he minds what he is doing." "It was a mean trick of Mumps to throw mud in at the windows," went on Andy Snow, as they walked away. "I had just put on a clean shirt when it hit me in the shoulder." "Mumps is as much of a mean sneak as Baxter is a bully, Andy. They make a fine team." "Where are you bound?" "Pepper Ditmore and I were going for a row on the lake, but Pep got into trouble with Mr. Crabtree and had to go to the classroom." "I'll go for a row if you wish." "All right. We haven't much time, but we can take a short row anyway. It's a pity Pep isn't along." "You and he are great chums, aren't you?" "Yes. You see, it is this way: His father and mine were old college chums, and we take after them. Besides that, his father and mine are associated in several business affairs." The boathouse was soon gained, and the two cadets brought forth a rowboat of fair size, and two pairs of oars. "Hullo, you fellers!" came from back of the boathouse. "Is it yerselves that's afther wantin' company, I don't know? If yez do, it's meself will be afther comin' along." "Hullo, Emerald!" returned Jack. "Yes, come on if you wish--there is room enough." "It's meself that would loike to learn how to row," said Joseph Hogan, as he stepped into the craft. He was a pleasant-faced Irish lad, who had come to Putnam Hall on the day the institution opened. "All right, Emerald, we'll give you lessons," came from Andy Snow. "Wait till we get out on the lake." The craft was shoved off, and Jack and Andy seated themselves at the oars. Soon they were gliding over the surface of Cayuga Lake in fine style. "Sure, an' it looks aisy enough," said Hogan. "It is easy--after you know how," answered Andy. "By the way," he went on to Jack, "are you going in for that boat race next week?" "Yes, and so is Pepper." "Good enough. I hope you both win." As soon as they were well out on the lake both boys stopped rowing, and allowed Joseph Hogan to take a pair of the oars. "Now, take hold this way," said Andy Snow, "and pull like this." The Irish lad tried. At first his blades slipped quite frequently, and once he splashed some water into the craft. "Look out!" cried Jack. "Emerald, we've had all the bath we want." "Sure, an' I didn't mane to wet yez," was the answer. "The oars schlipped before I knew it!" In a few minutes the Irish boy was doing better, and they turned down the lake. As they did this they noticed a small sailing boat approaching. "There's that craft again!" cried Jack. "What craft is that, Jack?" "Oh, I forgot, Andy. It's a sloop Pepper and I saw day before yesterday. We thought the fellows on board acted queerly." "In what way?" "They sailed up and down the shore at least ten times, as if they were on the lookout for something or somebody." "Who was on board?" "Two men. I tried to catch a good look at their faces, but they wouldn't give me a chance." "It's certainly queer they should sail up and down here," was Andy's comment. "Did they come from Cedarville?" "I don't know." By this time the strange sloop was close at hand. The same two men were in command, but both kept their faces turned away as the rowboat glided by. "Did you notice how they kept their faces hidden?" queried Jack. "Sure, I did that," answered Hogan. "B'ys, they are up to some thrick." "It certainly is strange," said Andy, thoughtfully. "See, they are turning back once more." "Perhaps they know some of the cadets, and would like to meet them." "More than likely they want to steal some of our boats." The sloop turned again on her course, and it was not long before both craft were only a short distance apart. "I'm going to hail them, and learn what they have to say for themselves," whispered Jack. "Do it," answered Andy. "Sloop ahoy!" At first there was no reply to this shout. Jack repeated the call, and Andy brought the rowboat still closer. "What do you want?" growled one of the men on the sloop, finally. "Fine day," said Jack, brightly. To this there was no answer. "Looking for anybody around here?" came from Andy. "No." "Saw you cruising around here day before yesterday, didn't I?" continued Jack. "Maybe you did. We've been out on the lake quite some the past week," answered the second man. "Thought, if you were looking for somebody, I might help you." "No, you can't help us," growled the one who had first spoken. "Do you belong at Putnam Hall?" questioned the other occupant of the sloop. "Sure, we do that," answered Hogan. "Got many pupils there now?" "Forty or fifty so far," said Jack. "Humph! How many teachers?" "Two regular teachers, besides Captain Putnam. Then we have others for French, and German, and music." "Who are the regular teachers?" "Mr. Crabtree and Mr. Strong." "Do they stay there all the time?" "Yes." "It must grow rather monotonous for them." "Oh, we try to make it lively enough." "Don't they ever go to town, or go boating?" "Of course. Mr. Strong is quite an oarsman," came from Andy, who had been out with the second assistant on more than one occasion. At this announcement both of the men exchanged glances. "You can come ashore and look at the school if you wish," said Jack. "No, thank you, we don't care to do so," was the hasty answer; and a moment later the sloop veered off, and was soon out of speaking distance. "Well, they are a queer pair and no mistake," murmured Jack. "Did you notice how one kept his hand over his forehead?" "And how the other had his cap pulled far down over his eyes," added Andy. "Sure, an nayther of 'em looked roight sharp to me," put in Hogan. "I'd not like to be spendin' much toime in their company." "I believe they are up to something," said Jack. "I'd like to know what it is." "Perhaps we'll find out later," answered Andy. And they did find out, in a manner that was as thrilling as it was astonishing. CHAPTER III A CASE OF BRIBERY When the boys got back to the boathouse they found Pepper Ditmore awaiting them. "Dashed off that bit of writing as soon as I could," said he. "My, but wasn't it mean of old Crabtree to make me do it! But wait, I'll get square on him!" "Pep, we met that strange sloop again," said Jack, and told of what had been said. "There's a mystery there, that's certain," answered Pepper. "Perhaps we had better report to Captain Putnam." "It won't do any harm." "Then come on now. We've got ten minutes before parade." Captain Putnam's office was a finely furnished apartment, just off the main classroom. They found the master of the school engaged in writing a letter. "Well, young gentlemen, what can I do for you?" he said cheerily as they entered. "We've got something to tell you, sir," they answered, and then Jack quietly related their story. The master of Putnam Hall listened with close attention, and questioned each one of the party. "This is certainly odd," said he, meditatively. "Still, there may be nothing of importance in it. If you see the sloop hovering around again, let me know." "We will, sir," answered Jack, and then he and his companions hurried off. The drum was already rolling, and all of the cadets lost no time in getting out on the parade ground. It was a beautiful day in early October, with just enough of coolness to make it bracing. "The battalion will fall into line!" was the command, from one of the old army officers present, and then the cadets of Company A and Company B took the places assigned to them. "Company, attention!" was the command from the officer in charge of Company A, to which Jack, Pepper, and Andy belonged. And then followed a similar command to Company B. While the battalion was at attention, Captain Putnam came forth and mounted a small stand that was handy. "Young gentlemen," said he, gazing, at the assembled cadets, "I have an announcement of importance to make to you. In the past you have been under the command of Captain Wilson and Lieutenants Plummer and Montgomery, who have drilled you thoroughly in the arts and duties of the soldier. These instructors will leave the Hall early next week, and then I intend to place the battalion in charge of such officers as you may select for yourselves." "Hurrah!" came the shout. "Three cheers for Captain Putnam!" "Three cheers for Captain Wilson and his assistants!" was the added cry, and the cheers were given with a will. "As you well know, ever since this school was organized I have been keeping a close watch on every cadet, to find out who was fit to take command. I have prepared a list of sixteen names, which you will find hung up in the general library and in the gymnasium. Of these names the first eight are eligible for the rank of major of the battalion, and all are eligible for the rank of captain, or first or second lieutenant. The position of sergeant or corporal may be filled by any cadet in the school. Voting for the various officers will take place to-morrow, directly after the regular school session." "Hurrah!" came another shout, as the captain stepped down. "Battalion, attention!" came the command, a moment later. "Carry arms! Present arms! Support arms! Shoulder arms! Forward, march!" "Tap! tap! tap-tap-tap!" went the drums, and off moved the young soldiers. They marched around the parade ground twice, and then into the mess-hall, where each cadet took his place at one or another of the long dining tables. It was a spirited scene, and one calculated to make the heart of each boy bound with enthusiasm. "Your name is on that list, Jack," whispered a cadet sitting near. "I saw Peleg Snuggers tacking it up in the gym as I came away." Peleg Snuggers was the general utility man around Putnam Hall. "I hope you are on it, too, Joe," answered Jack. "I am," returned Joe Nelson, who was a quiet and studious cadet, hailing from Philadelphia. "And Andy Snow and Henry Lee are on it, too," he went on. "I think----" "Silence at the table!" broke in the rough voice of Josiah Crabtree. "If I hear any more of that, I'll send you away without your supper!" "Oh," murmured Joe Nelson. It was rarely that he had any trouble with any of the teachers. "Say, but old Crabtree is crusty enough to make pie of," was Pepper's whispered comment. "Silence, I say!" thundered the first assistant. "I will have silence!" And he looked around the board so fiercely that hardly anybody dared to say another word. At the next table sat Dan Baxter and Mumps, the sneak. The former scowled darkly at Jack and Andy, while the sneak put his tongue into his cheek at them. "I'm going to fix Mumps," whispered Pepper, who had been told of the occurrence in the school yard, and watching his chance, he leaned back in his chair and dropped a bit of sharp fish-bone down inside the sneak's collar. At first the sneak did not notice what had been done, but then he made a side turn and of a sudden uttered a yell of pain. "Hi! who's sticking me with a pin?" he roared. "Drop it!" He glanced around, but the boys on both sides of him were busy with their eating. "What is it, Master Fenwick?" questioned George Strong, the second assistant. "Somebody stuck me with a----Oh, I'm stuck again! Oh! oh! Something is down my back!" And the sneak began to wiggle from side to side. "Oh, dear me!" "You had better leave the room and find out what is the matter," said the teacher, and still twisting and squirming, Mumps left the mess-hall in a hurry. "Baxter, do you know anything of this?" "No, sir." "It is strange; what could be the matter?" There were a few minutes of silence, and then the sneak came back and dropped into his chair. "It was a fish-bone--awfully sharp, too," he said. "Somebody must have dropped it down my back, sir." There was a titter, in which our friends joined. Pepper winked at Jack, Andy, and Joe Nelson, and they understood. As soon as the meal was over, the cadets rushed off to the library of Putnam Hall and to the gymnasium, to scan the list of names the master had mentioned. "Bart Conners is at the head," said Andy. "Harry Blossom comes next, Jack is third, Henry Lee fourth, myself fifth, Dave Kearney sixth, Stuffer Singleton next, and Dan Baxter next." "And those are the ones who may be made major," came from a cadet named Dale Blackmore, one of the leading athletes of the academy. "You are up next, Dale," returned Jack. "That means you may become a captain." "I'd rather be captain of the football team," answered Dale, with a smile. As soon as the list was scanned, an animated discussion took place regarding the merits of the different candidates. As among men, and especially politicians, there was a good bit of "log-rolling" and electioneering. "I think Henry Lee ought to be major," said Jack. "He is one of our best soldiers." "He is no better soldier than you are, Jack," returned Andy. "Just what I say," came from Pepper. "Jack ought to be major, and Henry one of the captains." "Dan Baxter is working hard to become major," came from a cadet who had just strolled in. "Somebody told me he was actually trying to buy votes!" "Buy them? Do you mean with money?" queried Jack. "So somebody told me." "Oh, that can't be true, Jerry. Why, who in this school would be mean enough to sell his vote?" "Well, Baxter has got a wad of rocks all right enough. I saw the money myself." "I'm going to watch him," came from Pepper, and he motioned for Andy Snow to go along. "What will you do, if you learn he is really offering money for votes?" questioned Andy, as they hurried away. "I don't know yet, Andy. But it would be a mean piece of business. Why, in politics that is bribery, and they can arrest a man for it." "I know that--but it's seldom a briber is caught." It was not difficult to trace Dan Baxter. From a small cadet they learned he was down by the lake, back of the row of bathing-houses. By going down to the boathouse first, and then stealing along a fringe of bushes skirting the lake shore, they reached the bath-houses without being seen. As it was past the bathing season, the houses were supposed to be "out of commission," and locked up, but one of them--the largest--stood wide open. "Well, that is the chance of your life, if you only know it," reached their ears, in the voice of Dan Baxter. "Besides, you know well enough that I would make as good a major as anybody in the school." "That's a fine way to blow one's own horn," murmured Pepper. "And what will you give me, Baxter, if I work for you?" came from a big boy named Gus Coulter. He, too, was a bully, and, coming from humble parentage, had very little spending money. "I'll give you five dollars, Gus." "Will you give it to me now?" "Yes, if you'll promise to do all you can to elect me major." "All right, then, hand over the money," answered Gus Coulter. "I'd just as soon work for you as anybody." "Why can't I have a fiver, too?" put in Mumps, who was present. "I'll work as hard as Gus." "I'll give you two dollars, Mumps," said the bully. "I can't afford any more." "Where do I come in on this?" came from a lad named Paxton. "I'll give you two dollars, too, Nick, if you'll vote for me and try to get others to do so, too." "Humph! Aren't my services worth as much as Gus Coulter's?" demanded Nick Paxton. "Well, if I'm elected I'll give you two dollars more." "Very well, hand over the dough, Dan. As Gus says, I'd just as soon work for you as for anybody." "What a barefaced thing to do!" whispered Andy Snow. "Baxter can't have a bit of honor about him!" "The others are just as bad--to take his money," whispered Pepper in return. "If they--who's this?" "Hullo, what are you doing here?" demanded a rough voice behind them, and a cadet named Sabine appeared on the scene. "Who is there?" cried Dan Baxter, and rushed from the bath-house. "Humph! Pepper Ditmore and Andy Snow! So you've been spying on us, eh? That's a nice business to be into, I must say!" CHAPTER IV ELECTING A MAJOR "Have they been spying on us?" queried Mumps, and turned slightly pale. "Yes, they have been spying--I caught them at it," came from Billy Sabine. "What have you fellows been up to here?" he added, anxiously. "Never mind just now," answered Dan Baxter. He looked much disconcerted. "Just step in here a minute, will you?" he requested, of Pepper and Andy. "What do you want of us?" asked Pepper, cautiously, while Andy also held back. "Have you been listening to our talk?" "Yes." "It was a mean piece of business, Pepper Ditmore!" "Not half as mean as what you were up to, Dan Baxter!" "What was I up to?" "You were bribing these fellows to vote for you." "No, I wasn't. I--er--that is--we were talking about something else. It's a--er--a secret society," stammered the bully. He did not know what to say. "Bosh!" came from Andy. "You were bribing them to vote for you for major,--paying them from two to five dollars apiece." "You shut up!" roared Baxter, rushing up to Andy and catching him by the arm. "I know what I'm doing. I don't want any talk from you!" He ran Andy against the side of the bath-house, but as said before, Andy was a good deal of an acrobat, and in a twinkling he had slipped from Baxter's grasp. "Let us get out of here, Andy," said Pepper. "We have seen and heard enough." "Are you going to blab on us?" demanded Gus Coulter. "That depends upon what you do," retorted Pepper, bravely. "We are not going to stand for such underhanded work as has been going on here." "If you dare to say a word I'll--I'll thrash you within an inch of your life!" hissed Dan Baxter, rushing forward and catching Pepper by the throat. "Don't you dare to do it! Don't you dare!" "Le--let up, Baxter!" gasped Pepper. He pushed the bully back with his hand. "You won't, eh? Then take that!" So speaking, he landed a blow that took Dan Baxter full in the face and sent him staggering back several paces. "What's going on here?" came the cry from the parade ground, and half a dozen cadets appeared, including Joe Nelson and Jack. "Perhaps Baxter will tell you," said Andy. "I--er--I haven't anything to say!" stammered the bully. "But I have something to say!" cried Pepper, boldly. "Boys, take care that he doesn't try to bribe you to vote for him. He has just bribed Coulter, Paxton, and Mumps. I saw him pay over his money, and so did Andy Snow." "It's a--a--falsehood!" stormed Dan Baxter. He was beside himself with rage. "It's the truth," came from Andy. "It was the most disgraceful thing I ever witnessed in my life. We don't want such a chap for a major, or even for a captain." "Maybe we don't want him even for a high private," came from somebody in the crowd. Gus Coulter whispered to Baxter, and then to Paxton and to Mumps. "That's the way to talk!" whispered Mumps. "Our word is as good as theirs!" "What these fellows say is not true," came from Gus Coulter. "I was never bribed in my life." "I wouldn't accept a bribe," put in Paxton, loftily. "I'm not that sort, and my friends know it." "We all belong to a secret society, and we were counting up the money in the treasury," said Mumps. "In the midst of it Ditmore and Snow rushed up and intimated that Dan was bribing us. They ought to have their heads punched for it!" "Well, you'll never punch them, Mumps," said Pepper. "And Baxter won't punch them, either." "Don't be so sure about that," growled Dan Baxter. "You may get more than you expect!" "I am not afraid of you," answered Pepper. Further talk was cut short by the ringing of the school bell, calling the cadets into the Hall. Baxter and his cronies went off in one bunch, while Pepper, Andy, and Jack went off in another. Among so many cadets opinions were necessarily divided. Some thought Baxter guilty, while others believed in his protestations of innocence. Yet with it all, the bully had only a limited circle of friends and hangers-on, as later events proved. During the evening the air was filled with subdued excitement. All of the candidates for the officers' positions were discussed, and it was generally admitted that Jack, Bart Conners, Henry Lee, and Dan Baxter stood equal chances of winning the majorship, or at least one of the captaincies. "I hope you win the majorship, Jack," said Andy. "You are just suited for that position." "I'd like it, Andy, I must confess. But I'm afraid I'm not well enough known. Big Bart Conners has a host of friends--and he is a staving good chap in the bargain." During the following morning it was easily to be seen that Dan Baxter had been working hard to win the cadets over to him. The bully and his cronies had done a good deal of talking, and in a few cases it looked as if he had been doing additional bribing. During the recess electioneering became warm once more, and the students gathered in little knots to discuss the situation. Jack, Pepper, and several others were talking together when Dan Baxter strolled up, with a dark look on his face. "Say, I want this talk about bribery stopped," he said, savagely. "I won't stand it--do you understand? I won't stand it!" And he shook his fist at the crowd. "If you won't stand it, sit down on it, Baxter," retorted Pepper. "It ain't fair," roared the bully, for the benefit of the crowd. "I believe Pepper tells the truth," came from Jack, eying Baxter boldly. "He caught you in the act." "Of course you'd say so, Jack Ruddy, you're so anxious to be elected!" "Well, I don't want to be elected," came from Pepper. "And neither do I," put in Andy. "I saw it as well as Pepper." "It's false! Absurd!" roared Baxter, and then, as there seemed nothing more to say, he walked off with his head held high in the air. "He makes me tired," came from Dale Blackmore. "I'd never vote for him, even if he hadn't started to bribe the fellows." The voting began directly after dinner. There was a large ballot box, and the cadets were given slips of paper and pencils, so that they might put down the names of their candidates. "There are seventy-seven students present," said Captain Putnam. "Consequently it will take thirty-nine votes for a choice. We will now take the vote for the majorship." There was a moment of silence, during which the students put down the names of their candidates, and then the line filed past the ballot-box, and each youth deposited his ballot. Without delay the captain and George Strong tabulated the vote. "I will now read the result of the first ballot," announced Captain Putnam, and at once the cadets became silent. "Number of votes cast, 77; Necessary to a choice, 39; Bart Conners has 21, John Ruddy has 21, Henry Lee has 14, Harry Blossom has 9, Daniel Baxter has 7, David Kearney has 3, Andrew Snow has 1, Paul Singleton has 1." "Hullo, Bart and Jack are a tie!" exclaimed Pepper. "And I've got one vote," put in Andy. "Guess you must have voted for yourself," put in Gus Coulter, sarcastically. "If I did, I didn't have to bribe myself to do it," retorted Andy. He raised his voice: "Whoever voted for me, will kindly vote for Jack Ruddy on the next ballot." "I also wish to withdraw in favor of Jack Ruddy," came from Dave Kearney. "I don't believe I can fill the position of major just yet," he added, by way of explanation. "Please cross me off the list," sang out Paul Singleton, a fat youth, who went by the nickname of Stuffer because he was always hungry. After this came a little more electioneering, and Henry Lee said he would withdraw and give Jack his support if Jack's friends would vote for him for captain. "Yes, we'll do that, Henry," cried Andy. The second ballot was soon cast, and resulted as follows: Number of votes cast, 77; Necessary to a choice, 39; For John Ruddy, 48; For Bart Conners, 20; For Harry Blossom, 5; For Daniel Baxter, 4. "Hurrah! Jack is elected!" cried Pepper, and rushing forward he caught his chum by the hand. "I congratulate you, Major Ruddy," said Captain Putnam, with a smile. "I move we make the election of Jack Ruddy unanimous!" called out Bart Conners. "I voted for him, and I want all of you to do the same." "Hurrah! That's the way to talk!" sang out a student. "Bart, you're a good fellow." "Three cheers for Major Ruddy, Captain Putnam, and Bart Conners!" came the cry, and the cheers were given with a will. But Dan Baxter and his cronies did not join in. "They sold me out!" muttered the bully to Mumps. "Some of the fellows who said they'd vote for me didn't vote for me at all." "I'd square up with them for it," returned the sneak. "I shall--and I'll square up with Jack Ruddy too," added Dan Baxter, bitterly. CHAPTER V OFF ON A PICNIC As soon as the excitement attending Jack's election had subsided, Captain Putnam announced that they would proceed next to the election of two captains, one for Company A, and one for Company B. For this purpose each student was allowed to put down two names, making the total number of votes cast one hundred and fifty-four. True to their promise, many who had supported Jack voted in favor of Henry Lee, and as a consequence he was made captain of the first company. Bart Conners became captain of Company B. Later still, Harry Blossom became first lieutenant, and Dave Kearney a second lieutenant. For all of these positions Dan Baxter received not more than six votes, much to his disgust. "It's a put-up job," he growled. "But just wait--I'll fix them!" And then he and his cronies said no more. After the voting was over, Captain Putnam called the newly elected officers together and gave them their instructions. "I shall leave the battalion in your hands from now on," he said to them. "On parade and during drill you must see to it that every cadet does his duty. Of course, during school hours and off hours, you will have no more authority than any of your fellow pupils." "I understand," said Jack, "and I don't want any authority excepting on parade and during drill." That evening the battalion celebrated on the campus of the Hall, with a big bonfire and singing. There was also a fancy drill and a short parade, and all enjoyed it excepting Baxter and his cronies. As soon as possible the latter sneaked off in a little crowd by themselves. "I'm satisfied that Ruddy and his crowd cooked this whole thing up against you, Dan," said Coulter. "Look at Lee. He sold out the majorship just to get a captaincy." "And Dave Kearney sold out so he could be sure of becoming a lieutenant," put in Paxton. "It makes me sick." "Well, some of the others sold me out," growled the bully. "I know twelve fellows who said they'd vote for me, and the most votes I got were seven!" "Jack Ruddy must have bought them up," put in Mumps. "He's a slippery one, he is!" The majority of the cadets, however, were well satisfied over Jack's election, and they told the newly elected major so. All shook him by the hand, and wished him the best of success in his position. He was called on to speak and made a neat speech. "I thank you all for electing me," said he. "I trust we shall all be friends, and that our relations with one another will be pleasant from beginning to end. I am going to try to do my duty, and I know you will try to do yours. And because you have made me major, don't forget that--during school hours and off hours--I am one of you anyway." "That's the way to talk!" called out a cadet. "Jack's the right kind of a major." "Three cheers for Major Ruddy," was the cry, and they were given loudly, and a tiger followed. A number of the boys, including Pepper and Andy, had worked hard to elect Jack and he felt that he ought to do something for them in return. He thought the matter over carefully and then decided to ask a dozen of the cadets to go off on a picnic with him on the following Saturday afternoon, which would be a half-holiday. "Just the thing, Jack," said Pepper, when the thing was mentioned. "We can have a jolly time, in the woods and along the lake shore." "Do we take any grub along?" came from Stuffer Singleton, anxiously. "It's no picnic without grub." "Trust Stuffer to remember about food!" laughed Andy. "To be sure we shall take something to eat along," answered Jack. "I'll arrange it with the captain and Mrs. Green, and I'll buy some extras at Cedarville." As soon as the picnic, as it was called, was announced those to take part became enthusiastic. Not to make the other cadets feel bad, it was kept a secret among those concerned. Captain Putnam allowed the housekeeper to have two baskets of provisions packed for Jack, and the young major took Andy and Pepper with him to town, where they purchased some extra dainties. "This is going to be the dandiest of all picnics," declared Pepper. "A red-letter day for Putnam Hall." "Don't you want to invite Dan Baxter?" said Andy, with a sly grin. "Not on your life, Andy!" cried Jack. "Oh, I was only joking." "He wouldn't come," put in Henry Lee. "He is as mad as hops because he wasn't elected an officer." "I don't want any such bully as he is to be an officer over me," came from Stuffer Singleton. There were signs of rain in the air on Friday and the students to participate in the picnic grew anxious, fearing they would have bad weather. But by the next morning the sun was shining as brightly as ever, and soon all were ready for the start, which was to be made at one o'clock. "Say, what do you think?" cried Mumps, coming up to where Baxter and Paxton were standing. "Jack Ruddy is going to take some of the fellows out to the woods for a spread." "Who told you?" queried the bully of Putnam Hall. "I overheard them talking about it in the gym. They're going to take two or three baskets of good things with them." "That's a shame!" cried Paxton. "We ought to spoil their game," suggested Gus Coulter. "Can't we do it, Dan?" "I don't know." Baxter became thoughtful. "Where are they going, Mumps?" "Up to Gerry's Point, on the lake. It's about two miles from here." "We might row up in one of the boats and see what we can do," answered the bully. So it was arranged, and Baxter, Paxton, and Mumps set off without delay. Coulter wished to go along but could not because he had an extra lesson to do, he having missed several times during the week. Jack and his friends started in high glee. They had three baskets filled with good things to eat and to drink, and each basket was carried by two boys, the handle having a stick passed through it for that purpose. "I'm going to have a swim," declared Andy. "I know it's a little late in the season, but the water is pretty warm." "I'm with you," said Pepper. "I shan't mind the cold water. Why, I take a cold bath two or three times a week, in the bathtub." "Cold baths are very healthy," came from another of the crowd. "My father used to be quite weak, but now he takes a cold bath every morning and it is wonderful how strong he is getting." The path led back of the Hall grounds and then through a dense woods fronting the lake, where the shore made a sweeping turn. As the boys were all good walkers, they covered the two miles with ease, reaching Gerry's Point inside of an hour after starting. "Now then for a rest and a swim," cried Pepper. "And then we'll sample some of the good things Jack has provided," added Stuffer, smacking his lips. "Say, Stuffer, you could eat about all the time, couldn't you?" queried Andy. "No, not all the time--he must sleep," put in Jack, and this brought forth a laugh. "I caught myself eating once in my sleep," said Stuffer. "I began to cough and woke up with a piece of pie in my hand. I had had the nightmare, gone down to the kitchen pantry, and helped myself. After that ma locked the pantry up and hid the key." And at this tale there was another laugh. After a short rest the boys went in bathing, placing their baskets in a secluded spot behind some bushes. Not far away was a small stream of water, and they did not know that in this one of the Hall rowboats was hidden, containing Baxter, Paxton, and Mumps, who had watched their arrival. "Now is our chance!" cried Baxter, when all but two of the boys had gone in bathing. "Let us take their baskets and make off with them. We can go up the lake shore and have a dandy time on the good things!" "Right you are," put in Paxton. "And won't Jack Ruddy and the others be mad!" "Be careful, or they'll spot you!" whispered Mumps, in a trembling tone. "Oh, don't get scared, Mumps," said Baxter. "They can't see us--the bushes are too thick." Leaving the rowboat, the party of three stole to the spot where the baskets were resting. "Say but they are heavy," remarked Paxton in a low voice. "Hush!" came warningly from the bully, and then nothing further was said. Each took a basket, and started back for the rowboat as fast as he could carry the load. Baxter and Paxton had just placed their baskets in the boat when there came a crash. Mumps, who was bringing up the rear, had slipped and let his basket fall, breaking a drinking glass and a bottle of ginger ale. "Hi, there, what's that?" came from Jack, who was standing in the water up to his waist. "Who's breaking glass?" "I'm not," answered one of the cadets on shore. "It was----" "Hullo, there is Dan Baxter!" yelled Pepper. "He's got one of our baskets!" "They are running off with our things!" broke in Andy. "Hi, stop, Baxter! Stop, Paxton!" "Go to grass!" roared the bully of Putnam Hall. He flung himself into the rowboat. "Quick, Paxton; quick, Mumps!" Paxton leaped in, basket in hand. But Mumps, becoming frightened, let his load remain where it had fallen and scrambled in headlong. Then the oars were taken up and the craft shoved out into the stream. "Stop them! Stop them!" came from Jack. "Don't let them get away, boys!" "Swim for the boat," said another cadet. "Come on!" "Baxter, stop your rowing!" called a cadet on shore. "Stop, or I'll throw this!" And he held up a large and sharp stone. "Ain't going to stop!" muttered the bully. "Clear the track, you fellows!" And he shook his head at those in the water. "If you don't get out of the way, I'll run over you!" And then he began to pull with might and main, while Paxton did the same. CHAPTER VI AN ODD BIT OF PUNISHMENT For the moment the declaration by the bully that he would run the boat into those in the water kept the swimmers back. "Look out, fellows!" cried Stuffer, in alarm. "That boat has got a pretty sharp bow. If it hits you it will cut you deep!" "I'm going to stop the boat anyway," cried Jack, and continued to swim toward the craft. As Jack did this, Andy measured his distance and suddenly dove out of sight. Andy was as good at swimming as he was at acrobatic feats, and he did not come up until he was close to the side of the rowboat. Then, before Baxter knew what was up, he had hold of one of the oars and jerked it out of the bully's hand. "Hi, give me back that oar!" cried Baxter, in alarm. "Not much," said Andy. And then, as Baxter tried to hit him with the other oar, he dove under the boat and gave it a sudden push that nearly upset the craft. "Oh!" yelled Mumps, in alarm. "Don't! We are going over! Help!" By this time all of the crowd in the water were surrounding the rowboat, and Jack lost no time in pulling an oar from Paxton. Then he shoved the end of the blade against Dan Baxter, and in a twinkling the bully fell over against the gunwale. Here Pepper caught him by the arm, and over went Baxter into the water with a loud splash. "Don't throw me over!" screamed Mumps. "Don't! I--I can't hardly swim a stroke." "Do you surrender?" demanded Jack. "Yes! Yes! Please don't throw me over! I--I wasn't going to do anything!" "Paxton, do you surrender?" asked Jack. "No, I don't! I'm going----Hi! give me that oar!" For somebody had suddenly captured the other blade. "If you don't surrender we'll cast you adrift without oars," came from Pepper, with a wink at his companions. "Yo--you won't dare," faltered Paxton. "Won't we? You'll soon see." "Yes, cast him adrift," was the cry. "Send him away out into the lake!" "No! No! I--I surrender!" said Paxton. By this time Dan Baxter was walking ashore. His clothes--a new suit, elegantly pressed,--were, of course, soaked completely, and there was a streak of mud over one shoulder. "I'll make somebody pay for this!" he growled. "It will cost two dollars to have this suit fixed up again." "You brought it on yourself, Baxter," said Jack. "No, I didn't!" "Yes, you did. What right had you to try to run away with our baskets of things?" "I--er--I wasn't going to run off with 'em. I was just fooling." "I don't believe you," broke in Pepper. Several surrounded the bully, so that he might not run away, and the rowboat with Paxton and Mumps was turned back to the point from where it had started. "Let us make them prisoners," suggested Andy. "They ought to be taught a lesson." "That's the talk!" came the cry. "I--I won't stand it," faltered Paxton. "Then sit on it!" cried Pepper, and tripped the fellow up. While he and Stuffer made Paxton a prisoner, the others attended to Dan Baxter and Mumps. The prisoners had their hands tied behind them, and each had a foot tied to the root of a big tree, the boys using sections of boat rope for that purpose. "Now let us finish our swim," said Jack, and drew his crowd to one side. "What shall we do with them?" whispered Pepper. "We ought to duck Paxton and Mumps," came the suggestion. "Baxter don't need any more." "Let us keep them bound up," said another. "They can look on while we are feasting." "That's the talk!" cried Jack. "It will make their mouths water to look at us getting outside of the good things." "And let us pretend that we're going to leave them tied up when we go away," added Andy. So it was arranged, and, this settled, the boys continued their swim and then dressed at their leisure. "See here, ain't you going to let us go?" asked Dan Baxter, after a long spell of silence. "Of course not," answered Jack. "We've decided to let you stay here until Sunday night." "Sunday night!" cried Mumps, in alarm. "I don't want to stay here all night and all day tomorrow!" "Don't get afraid, Mumpsy dear," came from Pepper. "There are not very many bears around these parts now." "Oh! one bear is enough!" And the sneak shivered. "I'm not going to stay here until Sunday night," came from Paxton. "Come, let us off, and maybe I'll call it square," said Baxter, in a more reasonable tone. "But we don't intend to call it square, Baxter," answered Pepper. "Then you won't let us go?" "No!" shouted the rest of the crowd. After that the baskets were brought up and all the good things spread out where Baxter, Paxton, and Mumps could see them. Soon the cadets were eating and drinking to their hearts' content. "Baxter, wouldn't you like a drink of soda?" asked Pepper, coming up with a glass full of the beverage. "I don't like to be too hard on a fellow student." "Yes, I'd like a drink," grumbled the bully. "All right then, you shall have one--as soon as you go down to Cedarville and put up the necessary nickel at the store." "Oh, go to thunder!" growled the bully. "Can't I have a drink?" asked Mumps. "I'm as dry as a--a fish." "Sure you can have a drink--but not of soda," said Andy. "I'll get some water for all hands." He disappeared behind the bushes in the direction of a spring. Soon he came back with three glasses filled with water. "Here's a drink for each," he said. "I'm not going to be too mean about this. I know what it is to go dry." He passed a glass to Pepper and one to Stuffer, and each of the cadets held his glass up to the mouth of a prisoner. As Baxter, Paxton, and Mumps were all dry, each drank eagerly. "Hullo, what's this?" spluttered Paxton. "Bah!" came from Baxter, spitting out the water. "It's full of salt!" "This will make us drier than ever!" groaned Mumps. "And I took several swallows," growled Paxton. "So did I," added Baxter. "To be sure it's full of salt," said Andy. "I thought you all needed it, you're so fresh, you know." "Be gorry, that's the bist joke yit," came from Emerald Hogan, with a roar. "That's roight, Andy, me b'y, salt 'em down." "I'll salt you down, Irish!" cried Baxter, in a rage. "Just wait till I get back to the Hall." After this the bully and his cronies asked for nothing more to eat or drink, but they wistfully eyed the good things as the others disposed of them. The salt made them fearfully dry, and each would have given a good round sum for a glass of pure, cold water. "Wonder if we can all get into that boat," said Jack, after the feast had come to an end. "A row on the lake and back to the Hall would just suit me." "It will give us a little practice for those races," put in Pepper. "I reckon we can manage it." "Are you going to steal our boat?" demanded Baxter. "It is not your boat--it belongs to the academy," retorted Jack. "We have as much right to it as you have." "Yes, but we had it first." "You won't need any boat just yet," said Stuffer. "You're to stay here, you know." "No! No! don't leave us here," cried Paxton. "Let us go and--er--I, for one, will call the whole matter off." "Will you really!" said Pepper. "Awfully kind, I'm sure." "If you don't let us go I'll tell on you," said Mumps. "The captain won't stand for anything like this." "What have you got to say, Baxter?" demanded Jack. "You had better let us go," grumbled the bully. He did not fancy spending a night in the dark woods. "If we let you go, will you keep your mouth shut?" "I haven't said that I would." "All right, we'll leave you tied up." "No! No!" came from Mumps, pleadingly. "Please don't do it! Dan, tell them that you won't say anything." "They won't dare to leave us," said the bully. "Won't we?" said Jack. "Wait and see. Come on, fellows, put the baskets in the boat and come on board." "They are going to leave us," groaned Mumps, as the baskets were stowed away and several entered the craft. "We'll have to stay here all night, and I know it is going to rain! And there may be bears around! Peleg Snuggers told me about a bear he saw once, on the road to Malville." "Oh, don't be a calf, Mumps," interrupted the bully. "They'll all laugh at you." "I don't care, I don't want to stay, so there!" whimpered the sneak. "Tell them you won't say anything." "Well, good-bye!" shouted Jack, turning toward the rowboat. He walked several steps, but then Baxter hailed him. "Stop!" cried the bully. "Let us go. For Mumps' sake I won't say anything." "Very well. Remember, Baxter, that's a bargain. Are you agreed, Paxton?" "Yes." "And you, Mumps?" "I shan't say a word--I promise, Ruddy." Without another word Jack released the three prisoners. Then he ran for the rowboat, leaped in and shoved off, and soon the craft was on its way out into the lake. CHAPTER VII HOW THE BOAT RACES WERE WON "Do you think they'll keep silent?" asked Stuffer, after the rowboat was some distance from the shore. "That's a problem," answered Jack. "Maybe they will--for their own benefit." "If they talk about it, the laugh will be on them," came from Andy. "That was a fine dive of yours, Andy," came from Pepper. "You took them by surprise." "We would have been in a mess if they had gotten away with the baskets and our clothes," said Stuffer. "Sure, an do yez think they'd stale our duds?" questioned Hogan. "They'd take everything--if they got the chance," answered Jack. "It was lucky for us that Mumps fell and gave the alarm." "What a calf he is!" "Sneaks are generally of that sort," said Andy. "How I'd hate to have the reputation he is gaining." They looked back and saw Baxter, Paxton, and Mumps standing on the shore. The bully shook his fist at them. "He feels real friendly," said Andy. "I think he'd like to embrace us all." Soon the rowboat passed out of sight of that portion of the shore. Then the craft was turned up the lake, and those who were to go into the boat races during the following week took turns at the oars. "Pepper pulls a fine stroke," said Stuffer. "He ought to win something." "I believe Jackson and Perry will win the main races," said another cadet. "They are bang-up oarsmen. They live on the Ohio River and have had lots of practice." "Well, I am going to do my best," answered Pepper. "And so am I," added Jack. The sun was just going down when the boys returned to Putnam Hall, tired out but thoroughly happy. They cleaned out the boat and put it away, and then went to their dormitories to wash up for parade. "Hullo, look here!" cried Jack, as he got out his uniform. "Somebody has been putting on my rank of office." And this was true, and the uniforms of the other elected officers had been treated likewise. When the young officers went below each received a shining sword, with a scabbard and belt to match. "We'll have to have our pictures taken," said Henry Lee, with pride, and later on, this was done, and each officer sent one or more of the photographs home, much to the parents' delight. It must be confessed that Jack felt quite proud when he stepped out in front of the battalion, sword in hand, and in his newly decorated uniform. He saw his friends in the ranks and also saw his enemies. Baxter looked as dark as a thundercloud, but did not dare to express his feelings. "That was very well accomplished, Major Ruddy," said Captain Putnam after the drill was at an end. "I trust you keep the battalion up to such a standard for the balance of the term." "I shall do my best, sir," answered the youthful major. "Ruddy seems to take hold with vigor," was George Strong's comment. "I like to see a boy do that." "His father was once in the army, and he has military blood in his veins," answered the master of the Hall. The boat races which have been mentioned were to come off on the following Wednesday afternoon, starting at two o'clock. There were to be four races, three among the students of Putnam Hall and the fourth race with the students of Pornell Academy, situated a few miles from Putnam Hall. Pornell Academy was an old institution of learning presided over by a Dr. Pornell, who did not much fancy the coming of Captain Putnam to that neighborhood. "I hope we wax those Pornell fellows good," said Pepper. "They are a proud lot, and they think we are nothing but the dust of the earth." "The races between ourselves will show what we can do," answered Singleton. "Are you going to row, Stuffer?" "To be sure I am." "Well, I hope you win something." The day was a cool, bracing one, an ideal day for boat racing, and immediately after the midday meal the oarsmen turned out in force and the lake front was alive with craft of various sorts. The races had been talked of for two weeks and several sloops and a steam launch came up from Cedarville bringing parties to view the contests. Some boats also came from across the lake, and flags flapped gayly in the moderate breeze. The first race was a four-oared affair between the smaller boys, and much to the surprise of everybody it was won by Mumps and a lad named Cathby. "Hullo, I didn't know Mumps could row so well," cried Pepper. "He comes from a town on the Hudson River, and was brought up around boats," answered a cadet standing near. "His folks own several sailboats, so I've been told." "Well, he deserves credit for winning, even if he is a sneak," declared Jack. The next race was an eight-oared affair, between crews made of Stuffer, Hogan, Blackmore, and a number of others already mentioned in these pages. This was lost by the crew led by Stuffer. "Stuffer had been eating too much," said Pepper. And the always-hungry lad afterwards admitted that this was true. The third race was a four-oared affair between Jack, Pepper, Andy, and Joe Nelson on one side, and Paxton and several chums on the other. Baxter had been expected to row in this, but fell out at the last moment, stating he was not well. Privately, he was afraid of losing, for he knew Jack and his friends were good oarsmen. The race was for a mile, and at the discharge of a pistol both crews started in fine shape. "Go it, Paxton!" was the cry. "You can win if you try!" "Pull, Pepper, pull!" "Make every stroke tell, Jack!" On and on swept the two boats, and for the first half of the course kept side by side. "It's going to be a tie race!" "Pull, Paxton! Pull, Leeds!" "See, Paxton's boat is going ahead!" It was true--slowly but surely the craft went forward, until it was a full length in advance. Jack, Pepper, and the others were doing their best but the other boat continued to keep in the lead. "I see a rope trailing behind!" cried Pepper suddenly. "There it goes," added Andy. "It was caught on the bottom." "All together, and give her tar!" shouted Jack, shutting his teeth hard. "Pull, boys, pull!" And they did pull as never before. But quarter of a mile of the race remained, and now Jack's boat was crawling up to the rival craft. "See, Paxton's boat is but half a length ahead!" "They are tie again!" "Pull, everybody, and may the best crew win!" came from a gentleman in one of the sailboats. "Oh, pa, I hope that last boat wins," cried a girl in the sailing craft, a fine small yacht. "So do I, Laura," came from a second girl. "Why, Flossie?" questioned her father, with a smile. "Oh, I don't know. They look nicer than the boys in the first boat." "Really? You have sharp eyes, I must say." And then Mr. Ford, for such was the gentleman's name, turned to the race once more. Jack, Pepper, Andy, and Joe Nelson were working like steam engines, and the same may be said of their opponents. On and on swept the two rowboats toward the finish line. There was a wild yelling along the lake front and from the various boats gathered around. "Come, we must win!" shouted Joe Nelson, and seemed to suddenly wake up. Jack and the others also renewed their exertions, and now their spurt carried them a foot in the lead. "Here they come!" "Jack Ruddy's boat is ahead!" "Paxton is crawling up again!" It was true, the rivals were also spurting, and for a moment the two craft were side by side once more. But Paxton's crew could not keep up the terrific pace, and suddenly they fell back, and Jack and his friends shot over the line winners by a full length. "Hurrah! Jack Ruddy's crew wins!" "It was a stiff race though, wasn't it?" "It was, indeed!" As soon as he saw that he had lost Paxton fell down in his boat and put his hand to his side. "What's the matter, Paxton?" asked George Strong, who was in a boat nearby. "Got a--a pain in--my--side," gasped Paxton. "It's the old trouble, sir." "That's too bad." "I--I could have won if--it--wasn't--for--that," went on Paxton. "Possibly," returned the assistant teacher. "He and his crew were beat clean and clear," whispered one of the cadets nearby, and this opinion was the opinion of the majority who witnessed the race. When Jack and his crew landed at the boathouse a crowd surrounded them, slapping them on the backs and shaking hands. "It was well won!" cried Bart Conners. "But, say, wasn't there something the matter with your boat at first?" "Sure there was," answered Pepper. "Somehow, a rope caught fast to the bottom. If it hadn't been for that I think we should have won with ease." "I'd like to know how that rope got there," said Andy. But the mystery was never explained. Half an hour later the race came off between the Putnam Hall cadets and the crew from Pornell Academy. None of our friends took part in this affair, and to witness it to advantage Jack, Pepper, and Andy went out in a small rowboat and stationed themselves near the course. "There is that yacht that passed us while we were racing," observed Andy, pointing the craft out. "See the girls who waved their handkerchiefs at us." "They look to be nice girls," said Jack. "Let us get a little closer to the yacht." "Hullo, Jack must be smitten!" came from Pepper. "Nonsense!" murmured Jack, turning red. "I only wanted to see who the gentleman was who is on board." "I know him," came from Andy. "His name is Ford, and he has a fine estate further up the lake. Somebody told me he was rich. Those girls must be his daughters." "I don't believe he knows much about handling a yacht," said the young major. "See how he is bringing her around." "Those girls want to be careful," came from Andy. "That boom may----" Andy got no further, for just then the yacht swung around on another tack. Around came the boom of the mainsail, hitting each of the girls on the shoulder. Just then the yacht gave a lurch, and with a wild scream of terror, the two maidens slipped over the craft's side and disappeared beneath the waters of Cayuga Lake! CHAPTER VIII THE CADETS TO THE RESCUE "They are overboard!" "They'll be drowned!" "We must save them!" Such were the three exclamations that came from Jack, Pepper, and Andy as Laura and Flossie Ford sank beneath the surface of the broad and rippling lake. "My daughters! My daughters!" came in an agonizing cry from Rossmore Ford. "Save them! Save them! I cannot swim!" "We'll save them!" shouted back Jack, and bent to the oars of the rowboat, while Pepper did the same. Andy was in the bow, and stood up, ready to dive overboard should it become necessary to do so. The mishaps had occurred some distance away and it took nearly a minute for the small craft to reach the locality. In the meantime both Laura and Flossie had reappeared and were shrieking for help. Both could swim a little, but not enough to keep up with all of their clothing and their shoes on. "Save them! Save them!" Mr. Ford continued to call out, and tried his best to bring the yacht around again. By the time the rowboat was at hand the girls had disappeared once more. As quick as a flash Andy dove overboard, for he had caught a brief glimpse of Flossie's dress. "I see the other one, Pep!" called out Jack. "Keep the boat handy!" And then he followed Andy into the water. It was a long dive for Jack, but it brought him close beside Laura, and soon he had hold of the girl and was bringing her to the surface. She clutched him tightly, and he had all he could do to keep her from shutting off his breath. "Don't--don't hold so tight--you--you are safe," he gasped, when they got their heads above water. "Here is a rowboat. I'll put you in that!" "Oh!" murmured Laura. "Ple--please don't let me go down again!" "I won't. Here's the boat. Now easy, Pep, or you'll tip over." "I've got her, Jack," was the reply, and bracing himself in the rowboat, Pepper hauled the young lady aboard. "Where's Andy?" questioned the young major, looking around. "I see him," answered Pepper, and a moment later Andy came up, holding Flossie by the back of her shirt-waist. The girl was partly unconscious. "Got tangled up in some wild grass on the bottom," spluttered Andy. "Here, take her," and he held her up, and soon Flossie was resting on the seats of the rowboat. By this time several boats were coming up, including the steam tug containing the judge of the coming race. "They're safe!" was the cry. And this was re-echoed on all sides. "Are they--they all right?" asked Rossmore Ford, in a faltering voice. "Yes, sir." "Thank God for that!" murmured the rich man. "Will you bring the rowboat up here?" "Better lower your mainsail first," suggested Pepper. This was done, and soon the rowboat was alongside of the yacht, and then the girls were passed up to the deck. "Oh, dear, what has happened?" murmured Flossie, opening her eyes. She gave a shudder. "I--we went overboard, didn't we?" And she gazed around in wonder. "Are you all right, Laura?" questioned the father. "Yes, pa--but I--I don't want to fall overboard again," said the older of the two sisters. "Neither do I," put in Flossie. She was recovering rapidly. "It was the boom struck us, wasn't it?" "Yes." "Let us get out of the crowd," whispered Jack. "The girls are all right now." "Just as you say," answered Andy. And they rowed away as rapidly as they had come up. "Hi! hi!" called out Rossmore Ford. "Wait! I want to thank you for what you have done." "Oh, that's all right, sir," called back Jack. "Come back, won't you?" pleaded the rich man. "We'll have to go back," said Andy, and once more the rowboat was turned around, and presently they boarded the yacht and tied the small craft behind. "Are those young ladies safe?" asked the judge of the race, from the steam tug. "They are," answered Rossmore Ford. "Good," and the tug soon after that moved away, and so did the majority of the other boats. "I owe you young gentlemen a good deal for saving my daughters," said Rossmore Ford. "I shall never forget what you did," put in Laura, with a bright glance at Jack. "You saved us from death," came from Flossie, and gave Andy a grateful look. "Your boom came around pretty lively," said the young major. "Yes. The--er--fact is, I don't know as much about sailing a boat as I'd like to," answered the owner of the yacht. "I'll have to be more careful in the future." He asked the cadets their names, and then introduced himself and his daughters, and all shook hands. "Pa, we'll have to go home and put on some dry clothing," said Laura. "Gracious me, I never thought of that!" exclaimed the fond parent. "To be sure--we'll go back at once. Do you wish to go along, young gentlemen?" "I guess we had better stay behind and see the race," answered Jack, after a questioning look at his companions. "Yes, I presume you are greatly interested. I was interested myself." "I hope your school wins," came from Laura. "So do I," added her sister. "You must give us a call some time," went on Rossmore Ford. "Our home is up the lake--Point View Lodge we call it. We shall be glad to see you any time." "Thank you, perhaps we'll come up," said Andy, and the others said practically the same. Then the cadets jumped into their rowboat once more and the yacht went on its way. "They are certainly nice people," was Pepper's comment. "You two fellows are regular heroes for saving the maidens fair." "Pooh! As if you didn't have as much to do with it as anybody!" cried Jack. "I didn't leap into the briny deep, as the novelists say." "Briny deep is good," laughed Andy. "Why, the water isn't over twelve feet deep around here." "It's deep enough to drown in. If you don't believe it, stand on the bottom and find out." And then there was a general laugh. The race between the cadets of Putnam Hall and the boys from Pornell Academy was now about to start. Crack! went the pistol and down into the clear waters of Cayuga Lake went the oars. "They are off!" "And Putnam Hall leads!" came the cry half a minute later. It was true, almost from the start Putnam Hall led by half a length. The oarsmanship of the crew was perfect, and the lead was held for the first half of the race. "Oh, if only they can keep it up!" cried Pepper. "Go it, boys, go it!" yelled Jack. "You've got to win!" "Show 'em what Putnam Hall can do!" cried Andy. On and on flew the two boats. Putnam Hall was still ahead, but only a few inches. "We're going to lose the lead!" cried Harry Blossom. "Too bad!" "Are we?" came from Dave Kearney. "Not much! How is that for a spurt?" As he spoke the captain of the Putnam Hall crew spoke to his fellows, and in a twinkling the time of the stroke was increased. Straight to the front leaped the boat, until the stern was even with the bow of the rival's craft. "They are going ahead!" "Hurrah for Putnam Hall!" "Pull, Pornell, pull! You've got to win!" So the cries ran on and the crew of the Pornell boat did their best to increase their stroke. But they could not overtake Putnam Hall and when the line was crossed the latter was the winner by two lengths and a half. A wild din went up. Horns tooted, rattles clacked loudly, and cheer after cheer rent the air. "That's the way to beat 'em!" "Pornell wasn't in it from start to finish!" "Better go home and learn to row!" The rivals felt sheepish enough, and without loss of time they rowed ashore and the members of the crew disappeared, followed by those who had come from Pornell Academy to see them win. "You have certainly done very well," said Captain Putnam, to the winning crew. "Your stroke was almost perfect." "And it was well kept up," came from George Strong. "I never saw a prettier race in my life." Josiah Crabtree had nothing to say, for he took no interest in sports. But nobody paid attention to the crabbed teacher. The races were followed by a general holiday time, in which nearly all of the cadets participated. Only Dan Baxter and his crowd went away. They departed for a deserted boathouse, and there sat talking and smoking cigarettes. "I suppose those fellows will have swelled heads after this," muttered the bully. "Sure," grumbled Paxton. "But I don't care. If they try to crow over me----" "What will you do?" asked Mumps. "Never mind, I'll do something." "And I'll help," came from the bully of the school. "We have got to take them down a peg or two, or else they'll be running the whole Hall to suit themselves." CHAPTER IX THE CHUMS MAKE A CALL For a week after the races, matters at Putnam Hall ran along smoothly. Captain Putnam insisted upon it that the students attend to their studies and our friends pitched in with vigor, so that Jack stood first in his class, Pepper third, and Andy fourth, which was certainly fine. During that time Dan Baxter had a sharp "run-in" with the master of the Hall, who gave the bully a stern lecture. As a consequence Baxter was quite humble for the time being and did not risk doing anything to bring him into further disgrace. On a Tuesday morning Captain Putnam called Jack, Pepper, and Andy into his private office. "Gracious, I hope we aren't in for a lecture!" whispered Andy while on the way. "Have you been doing anything wrong?" asked Pepper with a wink. "No, have you?" "Not much. I had some flour yesterday and when I was upstairs old Crabtree was in the lower hallway. Somehow the flour slipped out of my hand and went down on Crabtree's head." "Slipped is good!" chuckled Jack. "Did he spot you?" "Not much! I had business elsewhere, and I dusted," answered his chum. When they entered the office they found Captain Putnam awaiting them with a smile and knew at once that everything was all right. "I've received an invitation for you three lads," said the master of the Hall. "It is from Mr. Rossmore Ford. He and his wife and daughters are going to have a small gathering at their home this afternoon and evening, and they would like you to be present. If you desire to go you may do so. Mr. Ford is anxious to do something to show how much he appreciates what you did for his daughters." "Oh, I don't know----" faltered Andy, who was somewhat bashful. "Let us go by all means!" cried Pepper. "I'm sure we'll have a good time." "I shouldn't mind going," said Jack. "They seemed to be real nice people, and it would look strange to refuse." So it was settled that they should go, and Captain Putnam said they could take a horse and buggy from the Hall and make the journey to Point View Lodge and back in that. "And remember to be back by eleven o'clock," said the master of the Hall. They were to start at two o'clock, and immediately after dinner they rushed up to their dormitory to get ready. It was a rule of the establishment that cadets must wear their uniforms when going out on such occasions and they brushed up as never before, and put on their best collars, cuffs, and shoes. "Jack is sprucing up for the girls," observed Pepper, with a wink at Andy. "I'm sprucing up for the credit of the Hall," retorted the young major. "And you must do the same." When they went down to the barn, Peleg Snuggers had the horse and buggy ready for them, and the utility man told them of the road to take to get to Point View Lodge. "Mr. Ford is a swell gent," said Peleg Snuggers. "Ain't no more swell gent in these parts." "Any danger of his bursting?" queried Andy. "Is he a land swell or a sea swell?" questioned Pepper. "You young gents know wot I mean," answered the utility man. "He's rich--got millions." "Phew!" murmured Jack. "Boys, we'll have to put on swell airs!" "Peleg, won't you lend me a diamond for my shirt front?" asked Andy. "Ain't got no diamond." "Maybe you'll lend us a gold watch," suggested Jack. "Oh, you stop a-jokin' me," cried the utility man. "How am I to git diamonds an' gold watches on twenty dollars a month, answer me that now?" "Oh, we know you're rich, Peleg," said Pepper. "Some day you'll buy out the Hall and give us free board, eh?" And then the boys drove off, leaving Peleg Snuggers standing grinning after them. "Boys is boys, an' allers will be!" murmured the man of all work. "Bless 'em all, say I." The road to Point View Lodge was somewhat rough and they had to drive along with care. In some spots the trees overhung the road completely, making the way rather dark. "It will be no mean drive getting back," said Andy. "We've got a lantern, and we can drive slow," answered Jack. "We ought to start for the Hall by half-past nine o'clock." At last they reached the Lodge, located on a point of the lake shore. There were elegant grounds, filled with shrubs and flowers, and a fine mansion with broad piazzas. Off to one side was a large summerhouse and to the other a barn and sheds. "This is fine and no mistake," murmured Jack. "See, there is quite a crowd here, too." A stable-hand took care of their turnout, and soon Rossmore Ford and his stately wife came to greet them. Then the girls came also, and there were warm handshakings all around. "I am very, very thankful for what you did for Laura and Flossie," said Mrs. Ford. "I want you to make yourselves at home here, and I trust you have a good time." "It's a splendid place," said Andy. They were introduced to a number of the guests, including several young men from Pornell Academy, and then Laura and Flossie took them around the mansion and grounds, showing them various points of interest. The girls were bright and lively and soon succeeded in making them feel perfectly at home. "I see you have several students from Pornell here," said Jack to Laura, when they had drifted a short distance away from the others. At this Laura frowned slightly. "Yes. We did not expect them. They came to make a call." "Oh, I see." "One of them, Roy Bock, knows some of my mother's people, and he comes on that account and brings those others with him." "He seems to be making himself at home." "Yes, he acts as if he owned the place. Flossie and I do not like them to come, but mamma doesn't like to say anything, and pa is away most of the time." They took a ramble through the garden and into a conservatory, and Laura gave Jack a big rose for his buttonhole, while Flossie got roses for Andy and Pepper. These had just been pinned on when Roy Bock appeared, followed by three of his fellow students from Pornell Academy. "So here you are!" cried Roy Bock, loudly. "We were wondering what had become of you. Spooning, I suppose?" he added, coarsely. "We were showing our friends around the grounds," said Laura, quietly. "I just heard you were the chaps that pulled the girls out of the lake," said a student named Grimes. "Oh, anybody could have done that," came from another, named Gussic. "I suppose anybody could have rowed that race, too," said Jack, sharply. The manner of the rival academy boys was very obnoxious. "Oh, I heard how your school won that race!" cried Flossie, her eyes beaming. "I guess our school didn't have a fair show," growled Roy Bock. "The Putnam Hall crew started before the pistol went off." "That is not true!" exclaimed Pepper. "The start was a very fair one." "Humph! Of course you'd say so," grumbled the student named Gussic. "I say so because it is true." "I reckon all you fellows have the swelled head now," put in Grimes. "But just wait till the football match comes off--we'll show you a trick or two." "Oh, please don't quarrel here!" whispered Laura, in a frightened tone. "If you get Roy Bock mad, he'll say all sorts of mean things." "We've got to go back now," said Bock. "We'll call again some day--when these fellows ain't around. We don't want anything to do with chaps who cheat at boat races." "Bock, some day I'll make you take back those words," said Jack, hotly. "But we are guests here, so I'll say no more." "Bah! I'm not afraid of you," growled Roy Bock, and then he strode off, followed by his fellow students. Soon they left the house, on the buckboard that had brought them to the Lodge. "Oh, how thankful I am that they are gone," said Flossie. "Do you know, I am getting afraid of Roy Bock!" "He's a--a--puppy," said Andy. "Excuse the word, but I can't describe him in any other way." "I think he is very mean," came from Laura. "I wish he would keep away for good." "His companions are about as bad as he is," said Pepper. "They seem to be all tarred with the same brush." "They are always together," said Flossie. "They always come here in a bunch and stay and stay. It's a wonder they didn't invite themselves to dinner. And then, so I've been told, they tell their fellow students that we urge them to come, and that they can't hardly get away from here!" There were one or two other young folks present, and all had a good time until dinner was served. The repast was an elaborate one, and our friends did it full justice. Then came some music and a few games, and all too soon it was time for Jack, Pepper, and Andy to leave. "We've had a boss time!" cried Pepper, enthusiastically. "Excuse the French!" he added, meaning the slang. "Couldn't have had a better!" added Jack. "It was real nice of you to ask us to come," put in Andy. "We have enjoyed your company," said Laura, and Flossie said the same. Then Mr. and Mrs. Ford asked them to call again. "You must come down to our school," said Jack. "On Saturdays we give a special drill." "And Jack, you know, is our major!" said Andy. "Oh, pa, we must see the drill by all means!" cried the two girls. "Well, we can drive over some day," answered the fond parent. It was quarter to ten when the boys left the grounds in the buggy. The lantern was lit and hung over the dashboard, yet it did not light the road very well, and they had to proceed with care. "This isn't so nice," observed Andy, when they were in a black portion of the woods. "Supposing some tramps or highway robbers should pounce out on us?" "Andy must have been reading some trashy five-cent library," laughed Pepper. "I caught Link Smiley reading one the other day, and I had to laugh at all the hair-breadth escapes the so-called hero had." "Excuse me, but I'm not giving up my good nickels for such rot," answered Andy. "Good books are too plentiful. But it is dark and no mistake." "I see a light ahead!" interrupted Pepper. "Perhaps a carriage is coming this way." They drove slowly, and presently came up to where the light was resting, on a limb of a tree. Just as they were opposite to the lantern, eight masked figures leaped out from behind the bushes. "Stop!" was the command. "Don't you dare to drive another step!" CHAPTER X IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY "What are we up against now?" "Are these fellows tramps?" "Are they going to rob us?" Such were a few of the questions which Jack, Andy, and Pepper asked when they found themselves confronted by the eight masked figures on the lonely forest road. Each of the masked persons was armed with a stout stick. "Stop, do you hear?" came from one of the crowd, and stepping forward, he caught the horse by the head. "What is the meaning of this?" demanded Jack. "It means that you must consider yourself prisoners," was the cold reply. "Prisoners!" "Yes." "Who are you?" queried Pepper. "That remains for you to find out. Step down out of that carriage and be quick about it." "Perhaps we won't step out," said Andy. "If you don't, you'll get hurt." "I know them!" shouted Jack. "They must be Pornell students. Roy Bock, I know your voice." "I am not Roy Bock," was the answer, in a disguised voice. "You are. What are you going to do with us?" "We are going to give you a lesson," growled Roy Bock, for it was really he who had spoken. "Come down out of that buggy!" As Bock spoke one of the boys leaped forward and secured the whip and two others pulled away the reins. There was no help for it, and Jack, Pepper, and Andy had to leap out. They were at once surrounded. "This is a pretty high-handed proceeding," said Jack, in a steady voice. "Don't you know we can put you in the hands of the law for it?" "Bah!" growled one of the masked students. "You don't know us." "Perhaps we do." "We know Bock, and Grimes, and Gussie," put in Pepper. "None of them here," said one of the Pornell boys. "You are on to the wrong crowd entirely." "Maybe this is a Baxter trick!" whispered Andy to his chums. "No, it's a Roy Bock trick, I am sure of it," returned Jack. "He is mad because we cut him out with the Ford girls." Our friends were led to a small grove not far from the roadside. Here a camp-fire was burning, and they were forced to kneel while the enemy stood around with their sticks upraised. "We want you to make a solemn promise," said one of the masked students. "What promise?" demanded Jack. "You have no right to visit Point View Lodge." "Ho! I thought so!" "All of you must promise not to go there again." "I'll not promise," cried Jack. "Nor I," added Pepper. "Count me out too," came from Andy. "Why should we stay away?" "You won't promise?" asked several. "No!" came in unison from our three friends. "Then you'd rather suffer, eh?" "We don't intend to suffer!" "Quit talking and take them to the lake, fellows!" growled one of the masked students. "They'll sing another tune after they have been ducked three or four times." "So you are going to duck us?" said Jack. "Such is our intention." "It's a mean trick." "You can save yourself by promising to steer clear of Point View Lodge in the future." "Supposing we are invited there?" "You can plead a previous engagement." "I'll not do it," said Andy. "Nor I," came from Jack and Pepper. "To the lake with them!" In spite of their resistance, our three friends were hurried through the woods, to a point where there was a small cove of the lake. Here a bent tree overhung the water and here were several ropes. "We'll tie them by the hands and feet and then duck them good," said Roy Bock. "We must escape!" whispered Jack to his friends. "When I give the word cut for it, and cut lively." "All right," they answered. "I'd rather be ducked than make any promises," said Jack, loudly. "But I want to tell you fellows something. We have friends, and some day we'll get square. The people--Gracious sakes alive! What is that, fellows? Look, it's coming this way! It must be a mad bull!" As Jack broke off short and pointed with his hand, all of the masked students looked in that direction. Then Jack gave Pepper and Andy the signal, and side by side they dove into the woods and ran towards the road. "They are gone!" "It was a trick, to get us to look away!" roared Roy Bock. "Come on after them!" "If you come after us now we'll shoot somebody!" cried Andy. They had no firearms, but he thought he might scare their enemies. "Do you think they will shoot?" questioned one of the masked boys, a lad who was timid by nature. "No, I don't," answered Grimes. "Come on!" "We don't want to get hurt----" "Come on, it's all right!" And then the crowd went after Jack, Pepper, and Andy pell-mell. But our friends had gained a good start and they made the best possible use of their time. They leaped over the rocks and small brush-wood, and presently caught sight of the lantern, still hanging over the dashboard of the buggy. "Hullo, what's this?" cried Pepper, as he stumbled over something. "Bicycles, I declare, four singles and two tandems!" "They must have come to this spot on their wheels," answered Andy. "I've got an idea--we'll take a couple of the wheels along! Then somebody will have to walk home!" This was agreed to, and in a trice they had hoisted two of the bicycles into the buggy. Then they got in and urged the horse forward. "Stop!" came from behind. "Stop!" "They have two of our wheels!" came in alarm, a moment later. "They are driving away with them!" "Give us back our bicycles!" "Not to-night!" shouted Jack. "If you want them, come to Putnam Hall to-morrow and get them!" "This is the worst yet!" growled Roy Bock, whose wheel had been taken. "We must catch them if we can." "Yes, let's do our best," returned Grimes, whose wheel was likewise missing. The rest of the boys mounted their wheels and tried to follow the buggy. But the road to Putnam Hall was much rougher than that to Pornell Academy, and soon they had to abandon the pursuit. "We made a mess of it," said Gussic. "They have the laugh on us." "I don't feel like going to Putnam Hall for my wheel," said Grimes, with a downcast look on his face. "No more do I," answered Bock. "But what are you going to do about it?" "They'll be sure to tell the Ford girls of this, and they'll have the laugh on us." "If they do that, I'll punch somebody's head," grumbled Roy Bock. As soon as they were sure the Pornell students had given up the pursuit, those in the buggy slackened their pace, and re-arranged the bicycles they were carrying. "We surely turned the tables on them that time," laughed Jack. "I don't think they'll stop us again in a hurry." When they reached Putnam Hall they placed the bicycles in care of Peleg Snuggers. "An' where did you get them machines?" demanded the general utility man. "They belong to a couple of Pornell boys. We picked 'em up on the road," answered Jack. "I'll wager a tomato you got into a scrap," said Peleg, with a grin. "If we did, we didn't get the worst of it, Peleg," said Pepper. "I don't reckon you did. Most on the boys at Putnam Hall knows how to take care o' themselves." Our friends were curious to know what the Pornell students would do about their wheels. Two days passed, and then a hired man from the Academy appeared with a wagon, and a note for Jack. The note was unsigned and read as follows: "Please return the two bicycles per bearer, and we will call the whole thing off." "That's short enough," said Pepper, after Jack had read the note aloud. "What are you going to do?" "Let them have their wheels. It wouldn't be honest to keep them." "Let us send a note in return," suggested Andy. "I have it!" cried Pepper, and without delay he wrote out the following: "In the future beware and keep off the grass. "Committee of Three." "That's short and to the point," said Jack. The note was sent with the bicycles; and that was the last seen or heard of the Pornell boys for some time to come. CHAPTER XI A GREAT GAME OF FOOTBALL Once more the days glided by peacefully. Autumn was now well under way, and the leaves of the trees were turning to crimson and gold. Boating became almost a thing of the past, and talks about football filled the air. With the coming of the football season Dale Blackmore was in his element. Not only was Dale a good athlete, but it was speedily learned that he had been captain of a good amateur football team in the town he hailed from, and that the team had in one season won nine games out of twelve. "Dale is the man for our team," said Jack, and by a popular vote the lad was made captain. There was a slight opposition by Dan Baxter but this quickly subsided. As soon as he was made captain, Dale set to work to organize as a good a team as Putnam Hall could produce. He tried fully thirty cadets and then selected fifteen--eleven for the regular team and the balance as substitutes. On the regular team were Jack, Andy, Hogan, Bart Conners, Henry Lee, and others already mentioned in these pages. Pepper was a substitute, and he was willing enough to take a "back seat" as he called it. "Now we have got to get into practice," said Dale, "and it's to be no baby play either." And every day the team went out on the playground to practice. Dale made a good coach, and soon had the boys doing finely. He was assisted by George Strong, who had himself played football on his college team. It had been expected that Pornell Academy would play Putnam Hall. But the Pornell students were sore over their boat-race defeat and they insisted that a false start had been made. The discussion grew warm on both sides, and so the scheme for a football match for that year fell through, although matches between the two schools were played later, as I have already mentioned in certain volumes of the "Rover Boys Series." "Those Pornell fellows are a sore lot," said Jack. "I suppose they felt sure they'd win that boat race." "They are going to play the Rigsby Football Club next Saturday," said Andy. "Dale just told me." "I thought we were to play Rigsby," put in Joe Nelson. "We are, some time later." The Rigsby Football Club was controlled by a rich gentleman named Rigsby who had an elegant place outside of a nearby city which I shall call Mornville. The team was composed largely of college boys and played exceedingly well. The game between the Pornell Academy and the Rigsby Club attracted a large crowd to Mornville, and half a dozen students from Putnam Hall journeyed to the town, to see what sort of a game was being put up. "We must catch all the pointers we can," said Dale. "It may help us in our playing." The Pornell Academy made a fine showing during practice, but when the game started it was quickly found that the Rigsby team was too heavy and too clever for them. In each half of the game the Rigsby Club made a touchdown and a goal, and when the contest came to a close the score stood, Rigsby 12, Pornell Academy 0. "That's as bad as the boat-race defeat," said Pepper. "They must feel sick." "Those Rigsby chaps are heavy and full of ginger," said Dale, seriously. "We'll have no picnic playing against them." When our friends were coming from the football grounds they fell in with half a dozen Pornell students. "Fine day, Bock!" called out Pepper, cheerily. "Good day for playing football, eh?" "Oh, you needn't crow!" growled Roy Bock. "Just wait till Rigsby waxes you--you won't feel so happy." "Maybe they won't wax us." "Won't they!" put in Grimes, who was along. "The score will be about 50 to nothing in Rigsby's favor." "Wait and see," said Jack, quietly; and then the students of the two schools separated. After this game the team of the Hall practiced harder than ever, and George Strong taught them several useful plays. So the days went by until the eventful day for the match arrived. The game was to come off on the Rigsby grounds, and the students from Putnam Hall went over in the stage, the carryall, and in carriages and on bicycles. At first Dan Baxter said he was not going, but when he heard how the Rigsby Club had defeated Pornell Academy he changed his mind. "The Rigsby Club is sure to beat Dale Blackmore's crowd," said he to Paxton and Coulter. "Let us go over there and see the drubbing administered." "All right, I'm willing," said Coulter. "Maybe we can pick up a little money in bets." And when they arrived on the football grounds all of Baxter's cronies as well as the bully himself put up money that Putnam Hall would be beaten. "I just heard Baxter is betting against our club," said Andy, coming in with the news. "How mean!" cried Jack. "To bet against his own school! I don't believe in betting, but if I did want to lay a wager, I'd do it on my own school." "That's just how I feel about it," put in Pepper. "Well, I hope now, more than ever, that we win." It was a fine ground, with a beautiful stand and nice dressing rooms for both clubs. Mr. Rigsby himself was at hand and shook each of the visitors by the hand. "Play for all you are worth, boys!" he said, cheerfully. "I want the best club to win!" "We are going to do our best, sir," said Dale, modestly. The halves were divided into thirty-five minutes each, and soon the first half was on. It was Rigsby's ball and they sent it twenty yards into Putnam Hall territory. The Rigsby fellows were exceedingly active, and inside of ten minutes they scored a touchdown and immediately afterwards kicked a goal. "Hurrah for Rigsby! That's the way to do it!" was the cry. "Putnam Hall will be defeated worse than Pornell Academy was!" When the touchdown and goal were made Dan Baxter grinned at Paxton and his other cronies. "What did I tell you?" he whispered. "This is a dead easy thing for Rigsby." "You're right," answered Paxton. "Wish I had another fiver up on them." "Let us do a little more betting," said Mumps, who had just a dollar of his spending money left. They walked into the crowd, and after some trouble managed to place what money they had left on the Rigsby team. Then they hurried back to their seats. The first half of the game was drawing to a close. "Another touchdown for Rigsby!" "Hurrah! Now for a goal!" "There she goes! A goal, sure enough! How do you like that, Putnam Hall?" With the score 12 to 0 the two teams went at it again. But hardly had the leather been put into play when the whistle blew and the first half came to an end. "We are up against it sure, this trip," sighed Andy. "They can play like--like tigers!" "They are too heavy for us, that is certain," said Dale. "We must depend upon our lightness and our quickness if we want to win anything at all." The brief intermission was soon at an end, and once more the two teams faced each other. The Rigsby followers cheered wildly while the students from Putnam Hall gazed expectantly. It was soon seen that Dale's team was not playing as before. There was little mass work, and the ball flew from player to player with great rapidity. This did not suit the Rigsby team, and they made several errors and lost some ground thereby. Hardly had the second half been opened than Joe Nelson got the ball. He passed it to Hogan, who sent it to Andy. With a wild leap over a Rigsby player, the acrobatic youth went flying down the gridiron with the leather clutched in his arms. "See Andy Snow running with the ball!" "Stop him, Brown! Stop him, Callahan!" "Cut him off, Sturmen!" So the calls rang out and several started in pursuit of Andy. But just as they thought they had him he let the ball drop, gave it a swift kick, and over the bar sailed the leather. "Hurrah! What a beautiful kick!" "And on a dead run, too!" "Putnam Hall is waking up!" The cadets cheered wildly and unfurled the flags they had brought along, while some tooted their horns. As soon as possible the ball was put into play once more. This time it went far up into Putnam Hall territory, and it looked as if Rigsby would score once more, when Hogan got the ball. "Not just yit, me laddybuck!" muttered the Irish cadet, and started in the opposite direction. He made twenty yards before he was downed and the ball went to Joe Nelson, who carried it another ten yards. Then Dale landed on it through a fumble by Rigsby, and took it over the line for a touchdown. A moment later there was a trial for a goal, but it failed. "Never mind, it's a touchdown, anyway!" shouted the Putnam Hall supporters. With the score 12 to 9 against them, Putnam Hall went again at the battle. They had exactly seven minutes in which to do or die, and the excitement all over the field was now intense. Among the anxious ones were Baxter and his cronies. "They can't win anything in seven minutes," argued Paxton, somewhat gloomily. "There it goes!" cried Mumps. "See, Rigsby has the ball!" "They are going to score again!" It certainly looked like it, but at the last moment Dale got the ball and sent it back. Then it went from player to player so rapidly that the Rigsby players could not follow it. At last Jack had it and he ran with might and main for a touchdown--and got it! "Whoop! Hurrah! Putnam Hall wins!" was the cry. The goal was kicked, and the ball went again into play. But before it could be moved ten yards time was called; and the match came to an end. Putnam Hall had indeed won. CHAPTER XII HAPPENINGS AFTER THE GAME "What a splendid game!" "Say, but didn't the Putnam Hall boys pull themselves together in that second half!" "They surely did! I never saw such running in my life!" "And such dodging, too! They deserve their victory!" So the talk ran on. Both Captain Putnam and George Strong came up to congratulate the team members. Dan Baxter and his cronies were utterly downcast. Between them they had lost sixteen dollars and a half, and now some of them would have to do without spending money for a long time to come. "I guess those Rigsby chaps didn't want to win," growled the bully. "They went all to pieces in the second half." Jack was talking to Andy and Pepper when Laura and Flossie Ford came up with smiling faces. "Oh, it was just splendid!" cried Laura. "I just had to scream for you!" added Flossie. "I was terribly anxious at first! Those Pornell boys were sure you'd be beaten." "Well, we have disappointed them," said Jack. "I guess we could beat them, too." "Why, of course. See how they were beaten by Rigsby," said Flossie. "Have you been bothered by Roy Bock lately?" "Only once. Then he came and talked against you, and pa told them--Roy and those others--they had better stay away." "Good!" said Pepper, and told of the meeting in the woods. The girls laughed heartily when they heard how the bicycles had been taken. "We are coming to see the drill next week," said Laura. And they did come, and were entertained to the best of our friends' ability. They thought the drill and parade fine, and complimented Jack on the way he handled the cadets. As a substitute player, Pepper had gotten into the second half of the football game, so he came in for a portion of the glory, even though he had made no brilliant plays. That night the boys celebrated by a bonfire and by singing and "larking" on the campus until eleven o'clock. "Captain Putnam, let them have their sport," said George Strong. "They certainly deserve it." And the captain took the advice of his assistant. Josiah Crabtree took no part in the proceedings, but locked himself up in his room and read. To his mind, all sports were just so much time wasted. On the following day one of the students brought in news that interested all of the cadets. A circus was to stop at Cedarville, and the boy had brought one of the handbills along. "This looks as if it might be a pretty good show," said Pepper, after reading the handbill. "Andy, let's go if we can." "Don't think the captain will let us off," answered Andy. "We can sound him anyway," put in Jack. The master of Putnam Hall was appealed to, and finally said the big boys could go to the circus if they wished, but all must promise to behave themselves. "To be sure we'll behave ourselves," said Jack. "But we must have a little fun," came from Pepper, with a wink at his chums. "Better keep out of mischief," put in Andy. "If you don't, the captain will put the screws on us, and we won't get anywhere after this." The circus soon became the chief topic of conversation, and it was ascertained that twenty-one of the older cadets were going. Dan Baxter "stuck up his nose" at the affair. "Don't catch me going to such a one-horse affair," he said, with a sneer. "When I go to a circus it's only to the best." "We can get along very well without his company," was Jack's comment, when he heard what the bully had said. On the following day Jack and Pepper walked down to the lake shore and then up to a spot where a large tree overhung the water. It was sunny and fairly warm, and the two cadets took a seat in the tree to chat and rest. They had been sitting there less than five minutes when the young major uttered a cry of surprise. "What is it, Jack?" "Unless I am mistaken, there is that mysterious sloop again!" "Where?" "Up the lake! She is coming this way, too." "Let us keep out of sight and see if we can discover anything." This was agreed to, and from behind the boughs of the tree the two boys watched the strange craft as it approached the shore where Putnam Hall was located. "The same two men are on board!" whispered Pepper. "Yes, and they are acting as they did before, too," added Jack. "Pep, I'd give a good deal to know what their game is." "So would I. Let us lay low. We may learn something." Slowly the mysterious sloop approached the shore and sailed past the Putnam Hall grounds. The men on board looked eagerly toward the academy buildings, and then went up the lake a short distance. A few minutes later they came back, and lowering the mainsail, drew close to shore, a short distance from where Jack and Pepper were in hiding. "Perhaps our trip will be in vain again," said one of the men to his companion. "They cannot all be in vain," was the answer. "Some day we shall be successful." "Are you going to land?" "Yes. But stand ready to sail when I come back." So speaking, one of the men leaped ashore and stole behind a fringe of bushes. From that point he made his way up to a spot back of the gymnasium, and then walked completely around Putnam Hall, taking care to keep out of sight of the cadets who chanced to be roaming about. "He acts as if he was a robber!" whispered Pepper. "I don't think a robber would come here in broad daylight." It was quite a while before the man came back. As he boarded the sloop again, his face showed his disappointment. "Well?" questioned his companion. "Another disappointment," was the answer. "Let us go. We may have better luck another time." And without another word the two men hoisted the mainsail of the sloop and sailed away across Cayuga Lake. "Well, of all the odd things I ever heard of!" murmured Pepper. "If I wasn't sure I was wide awake I'd say I was dreaming." "They are after something," answered Jack. "The question is, what? I'm rather sorry we didn't call Peleg Snuggers and capture that fellow who came ashore. Perhaps Captain Putnam could get something out of him." "Shall we go to the captain again?" "I don't know. Perhaps he'll think we are only fooling him." They talked the matter over, and decided to say nothing more for the present. They watched the sloop until it disappeared from view, and returned to the school building. The day for the circus dawned bright and clear, and directly after the midday meal the long stage belonging to the Hall was brought out and the boys who were going to the show piled in. They were in charge of George Strong, and many carried small flags and horns. "Hurrah for Wildman's Great International Circus!" cried Pepper. "Largest Aggregation of Wild Beasts on the Globe! See the wild man from Samoa, and the elephant-faced monkey from Greenland! All for the one price of admission, twenty-five cents--quarter of a dollar! Walk up, crawl up, tumble up, anyway to get up, ladies and gentlemen! Children half price, babies no price at all. If you don't get your money's worth, ask the manager to refund your hard-earned savings! The show will be started at exactly seventeen minutes past fourteen o'clock. The audience must come dressed in uniforms befitting the occa----" "Stop! stop!" cried Jack. "Pepper, you'll have us wound up before we're started." "All clocks are wound up before they are started," retorted the Imp. "Don't you go on a strike though, if you do----" "He'll be so shamed that, like the clock, he'll hide his face behind his hands," finished Andy. "Call it off, as the young lady said of the caterpillar." "You'll have to be just a little less enthusiastic, young gentlemen," put in George Strong. "We don't want this stage-load to be taken for the cage of monkeys, you know." And then the crowd settled down, Peleg Snuggers whipped up the four horses, and off they rattled for the circus grounds, located on the outskirts of Cedarville. When they arrived they found the tents in position, and a goodly crowd assembled. There were the usual side shows and the usual stands with peanuts, popcorn, and pink lemonade. There was also a man with a little gambling game, surrounded by a score of countrymen who thought they could win, when they were certain to lose. "Looks as if it might be a pretty good show," remarked Andy, after the chums had entered the tent devoted to the menagerie, and he was right. The animals were not many in number, but they had been selected with care, and George Strong explained just what each was to those under his guidance. "There is a particularly fine tiger," said he, pointing the beast out as it paced up and down its narrow cage. "He looks as if he'd enjoy his liberty." "And he looks as if he'd like to chew some of us up," put in one of the students, and this created a laugh. It was soon time for the circus proper, and all obtained good seats. One act after another passed and was applauded, for all were very good. Then came a chariot race, to wind up the performance. This was in progress when there came a shout from the menagerie tent. "Stop the monkeys! They have broken loose!" "Hullo, what's that?" cried Pepper. "Somebody said the monkeys were loose!" "If they are there will be fun!" murmured Jack, and he was right. But how much fun he was still to see. CHAPTER XIII THE CIRCUS, AND A MONKEY The chariot race soon came to an end, and the cadets passed into the menagerie tent once more. Here there was considerable excitement. By accident the monkeys had opened the door to their big wagon cage, and fully a dozen of the little creatures were missing. One monkey had climbed into a cage containing two lions, and the kings of the forest had made a meal of the wanderer in double-quick order. "Here's fun truly," said Pepper. "Wish I could catch one of the little beggars!" "You'd have your hands full, if Mr. Monk was of the biting kind," returned Dale. They watched the circus employees trying to catch two of the monkeys, and then passed outside. One of the monkeys had climbed clear to the top of the flagpole on the circus tent and a crowd of children were watching him with keen delight. "He's the king-pin acrobat of the show!" cried Jack. "I don't believe anybody will dare go after him," and so it proved. But the monkey soon came down when shown some peanuts, and was then placed back in his cage. "He didn't know what to do with his liberty after he got it," was Andy's comment. "It's a wonder he didn't take to the woods." "More than likely he was born in captivity and didn't know what liberty meant," came from Joe Nelson. "I knew some folks who had a tame canary. For an experiment they took the bird to the woods and opened the cage wide. Close by the cage was a brook, and by the side of this they put the canary's bath tub full of water. Would you believe it, the canary always came back to his cage to roost, and instead of dipping himself in the brook, took his bath in his old tub!" "Which showed what habit would do," said another pupil. "He didn't know anything different." The boys were soon in the stage, and Pepper took his seat on the rear step, the stage itself being crowded. "Don't fall off, Master Ditmore," said George Strong. "No fear, you can't lose me so easily," replied the fun-loving youth, and said this so merrily that everybody had to laugh. The stage was going along at a good gait when Pepper happened to look under the turnout and saw a sight that made him open his mouth wide in astonishment. There, on the bar running from the front to the back axle, sat a little monkey, gazing around in wonder, with his face screwed up into a curious pucker. "Well, I declare!" murmured Pepper to himself. "Have you been hiding there ever since we left the circus grounds?" As soon as the monkey saw that he was discovered, he gave a little squeak, and hopped a few inches away. Then he looked at Pepper in added curiosity, as much as to say: "What do you want to do with me?" "You're a cute little chap," thought the cadet. And then of a sudden he broke into a grin. What fun might be had if he could capture that monkey! "I'll do it," he told himself, and feeling into his pocket, he brought out a few peanuts. As soon as the monkey saw these he came closer, snatched one of the nuts, and proceeded to crack it open. "Don't you want to come into the stage, Pep?" called out Andy. "We'll make room for you." "Oh, I can stay here," was the answer. "It's like a private seat, you know." And then, when he got the chance, he whispered: "I've got a reason for remaining here, but keep mum!" "What's doing?" "I'll tell you afterwards." On and on rattled the stage, the boys singing and tooting their horns to pass the time. The monkey did not appear to mind the noise, and evidently enjoyed the ride. Luckily a slight shower the night before had laid the dust, otherwise both Pepper and the monkey might have been smothered. At last they came in sight of the Putnam Hall grounds, and then Pepper realized that something must be done. He held out some more peanuts, and when the monkey reached for them, he caught the animal and held him fast, pushing him inside his jacket. Then Pepper knocked off his own cap into the road. "Hi! there goes my cap!" he called out, and leaped to the ground. "Don't wait for me," he added. "I'll walk the rest of the way." "Pep has lost his cap!" cried several. "Never mind, it's only a step to walk," came from some others. "I'm going to walk in with him," said Andy, and leaped to the ground, followed by Jack. As the three were known to be chums, nothing was thought of this, and in a moment the stage disappeared around a bend. At first Pepper had his hands full holding the monkey, and he was afraid he was going to be bitten. But as Jack and Andy came up the creature quieted down. "Well, I declare!" ejaculated the young major. "Where did you get the monk?" "He was on the stage," explained Pepper. "Say, help me make him a prisoner, will you?" "Sure," came from the others, and soon the monkey had a cord tied around his waist. As this was nothing new to him, he submitted without much trouble, and when given half a dozen more peanuts and a bit of candy Andy carried, seemed quite content. "What are you going to do with him?" questioned Jack. "Introduce him to old Crabtree," was Pepper's answer. "Just the thing!" ejaculated Andy. "Let's put him in Crabtree's room to-night!" "That's what I was thinking, Andy." "There will be some fun when the monk begins to roam around." After some talk, the boys decided to enter the school by the back way. Jack went ahead to see that the coast was clear, and soon they had the animal safe in dormitory No. 4, over which the youthful major presided. Then Andy found an empty bird cage in the storeroom of the Hall, and his monkeyship was transferred to this. The evening was a long one to the boys, but it finally came to an end, and they retired. Then, when all the lights were out, Pepper and Andy stole through the darkened hallways to the door of Josiah Crabtree's room. Listening intently, they heard the first assistant teacher snoring peacefully on his bed. "Is the door unlocked?" questioned Andy. "Yes." No more was said, and Pepper hurried back for the bird cage containing the monkey, and also for an old school-book he had brought up from below. Opening the door with caution, they took the monkey from the cage and placed him at the foot of Josiah Crabtree's bed. Then they hurried to the doorway once more, and went outside. "Wait!" whispered Pepper, and taking aim, he sent the book flying at Josiah Crabtree. Then the chums scampered for their dormitory with might and main. The book landed on Josiah Crabtree's somewhat bald head, and he awoke with a start and sat up. "What in the world was that?" he muttered. "Is the ceiling falling down?" He stared around him. The moon was coming up, and it cast considerable light into the apartment. He saw a dark object moving around. "Hi! What's that?" he called out. "Scat!" Thinking it might be a cat, he made a wild pass at the monkey. At once the frisky animal caught him by the finger and gave him a nip. "Oh, oh!" roared the teacher. "He has bitten me! Take him off! Help! Robbers! Help!" And he flung the bedclothes aside and began to dance around. At the excitement of the man the monkey also became excited, and leaped upon the top of a bookcase in a corner, which contained some volumes belonging to the teacher. Down came a bust on the bookcase with a crash. Then the monkey took up a book and flung it at the man. "Stop! stop!" roared Josiah Crabtree. "Don't! Help! There is a wild beast in the room!" And he ran around, with the monkey following. Presently the animal leaped on his shoulder, and then Josiah Crabtree let out a yell as if a dozen wild Zulus were on his track. The noise aroused the whole school. Doors were flung open, and teachers, hired help, and cadets came forth into the hallways. "What's the trouble?" "Is there a fire?" "I heard somebody say robbers!" "It's Mr. Crabtree!" shouted Pepper. "Somebody must be trying to rob him. Come on, let us catch the thief!" And on the instant the cadets stormed forward, towards the teacher's apartment, and George Strong and Captain Putnam followed. "Oh, dear! Scat, I tell you! Let me alone. Don't pull my hair! Oh, will somebody take him away!" came from the room. "This is simply awful! Who put this beast here?" and so the cries ran on. "Something is surely wrong," cried Captain Putnam. "Stand back, young gentlemen, or you may get hurt." He flung open the doorway, and as he did so, Josiah Crabtree, robed in his nightdress, leaped out, with the monkey on his shoulder. "Have you gone crazy?" asked Captain Putnam. And then he added: "Where did that monkey come from?" "How should I know?" roared Josiah Crabtree. "Take him off! He'll have my hair out by the roots!" "What a pretty monkey!" cried Pepper. "Is he your pet, Mr. Crabtree?" "My pet? Never! Take him away!" And the teacher continued to dance around. Several darted in to secure the monkey, but like a flash the animal leaped to a fixture suspended from the ceiling, and then swung himself to a hall window and slipped outside. "He has gone!" "Let us catch him!" "Whose monkey is it?" "He must have come over from the circus," said Jack. "They said a lot of them had gotten away." "I'll sue the circus proprietor for this!" howled Josiah Crabtree. "It's an outrage on the public. Oh, my poor head!" And he ran back into his room, banging the door behind him. "Has the monkey gone?" asked Captain Putnam. "Went through the window," answered Joe Nelson. They looked out of the window, but could see nothing of the animal. Then some went below, but the monkey had disappeared. He was captured in the morning and returned to the circus by Snuggers. "Young gentlemen, you may retire," said Captain Putnam, and one after another the cadets did so. Safe in Dormitory No. 4, Pepper told his whole story, and the boys had a laugh that lasted for a long time. "Old Crabtree won't get over that right away," said Andy. "What a sight he did cut, with Mr. Monk on his shoulder pulling his hair!" "Mum's the word about this," came from Pepper. "If he found me out he'd be mad enough to chew my head off." "Well, we are not telling on you," came from one of the others. "We are glad you fixed old Crabtree. He deserves it." CHAPTER XIV ALL ABOUT A TIGER "Oh, it's awful, gents, really it is! As soon as I heard the news, it made my knees shake like they was made o' jelly! Whatever are we goin' to do, with sech a wild animal as thet roamin' the roads, I'd like to know?" It was Peleg Snuggers who was speaking. He had just returned from an early morning trip to Cedarville with the monkey, and was addressing a little knot of cadets standing just outside of the parade ground. "Better git in the school," he went on. "It won't be safe to go outdoor no more. Ain't it awful, though?" And he shook his head solemnly. "What is the trouble, Snuggers?" questioned Captain Putnam, who chanced to come up and saw how disturbed his hired man was. "It's about thet tagger as was at the circus, sir," said Snuggers. "Somehow or other, he broke loose last night--knocked some o' the bars out o' his cage. An' they ain't found him yet." "A tiger broke loose?" queried the captain, and now he was intensely interested. "Who told you of this?" "Mr. Chase, sir--an' some circus folks. Cedarville is wild with excitement, an' none o' the folks dare to go outdoors. They say he's a powerful tagger an' mighty ugly." "He certainly was a big tiger," said Jack, who was in the crowd. "I shouldn't want to fall in with him." "Maybe he is coming this way," suggested one of the smaller students, looking around nervously. "Excuse me from meeting a tiger," said Mumps, and without another word he walked into the Hall and to his classroom. The news spread with the rapidity of lightning, and to be on the safe side, Captain Putnam ordered all of the boys into the school and had all the lower windows and doors closed. "This is certainly exciting enough," said Joe Nelson. "Supposing the tiger takes it into his head to camp out around here? None of us will want to go out any more." "Oh, they are bound to either catch him or shoot him, sooner or later," answered Jack. "But just the same, I don't want to run afoul of that beast. He looked strong enough to kill half a dozen of us." The excitement was intense, and nobody dared to venture far from the Hall. The cadets kept a constant watch; but nothing came of it. "They must have news of the beast by this time," said Captain Putnam on the following morning. "I'll drive down to Cedarville and find out." "Oh, dear captain don't do that!" shrieked Mrs. Green, the housekeeper. "If you meet him he'll eat you up!" "I'll risk that," returned the master of the Hall, grimly. "I'll take my rifle with me, and also my seven-shooter. If I see the tiger I'll try to give him a warm reception." "You--you--er--don't want me to drive you, do you?" asked Peleg Snuggers, in a trembling voice. "I--er--I ain't well this morning. I had a--er--a dreadful backache all night, an' a headache, an'----" "You won't have to drive, Snuggers. I'll take the buggy and drive myself." "It's flyin' in the face of Providence," came from Mrs. Green. "Better wait a day or two longer." "No, I'm going now. Hitch up Black Bess, Snuggers. She is a steady mare, and won't run away even if the tiger does show himself." The mare was hooked to the buggy, and Captain Putnam looked carefully to his rifle and his old army revolver. The excitement of the occasion was just to his liking. It put him in mind of his days in the wild west, and he half wished the escaped tiger would show itself so that he might get a shot. "The captain certainly has grit," remarked Jack, as the master of the Hall drove away. "I shouldn't mind going with him," came from Dale. "I like hunting." "Well, this isn't ordinary hunting," put in Andy. "It's the wildest kind of game to bring down." As soon as the captain was out of sight all began to wait anxiously for his return. The cadets could scarcely settle themselves to their studies, and more than one failed utterly in his lessons. "This is wretched!" cried Josiah Crabtree, wrathfully. "I shall keep all of you in after regular hours!" He had not gotten over his adventure with the monkey, and was feeling more sour than ever. "We can't forget the tiger," said Andy. "The tiger is not here," snapped the crabbed teacher. "Attend to your lessons." "Oh, what a teacher!" murmured Jack. "I'll fix him," whispered Pepper. "Wait till he passes that open window again." A moment later Josiah Crabtree walked by the window in question. His back was toward it, and on the instant Pepper arose and pointed at the opening. "Hi! Is that the tiger?" he cried, shrilly. At the words Josiah Crabtree sprang a foot into the air and dodged into a corner. All of the cadets leaped to their feet. "Did--did you--see the tiger?" questioned the teacher, faintly. "Where's the tiger?" roared several boys. "Must be trying to come into the window," shouted Andy, catching the spirit of the joke. "Ke--ke--keep him ou--ou--out!" spluttered Josiah Crabtree. "Do--don't let him get in here!" "It is gone now," said Pepper. "Must have been something else!" And he winked broadly at his friends, so that none of them might be alarmed. "Are you--you sure, Ditmore?" "Yes, sir." "This is awful!" murmured Josiah Crabtree, wiping the cold perspiration from his forehead. "Oh, we can study anyway," murmured Pepper. "Eh?" "It won't hurt our studying, Mr. Crabtree. You can watch for the tiger while we do our sums." "Silence!" roared the crabbed teacher, but after that he said little about the poor lessons. By noon Captain Putnam came back, and the cadets at once surrounded him to learn what he might have to tell. "I saw nothing of the tiger," said the master of the Hall. "A number of parties went out after him yesterday, and one crowd discovered the beast near the lake. They fired on him and he started to swim away. They think he must have been drowned, although they have not yet located the body." "Hope he was drowned," said Pepper. The matter was talked over for the balance of that day, and also the next. Then came in news that the circus people were also certain the tiger had gone to the bottom of Cayuga Lake, and everybody breathed easier. The circus moved southward, and soon the excitement died down completely. Our young friends had not forgotten the Fords, and having received another invitation to call at the mansion at Point View Lodge, they set off one afternoon as soon as they could get away. "I hope we don't have another encounter with those Pornell Academy fellows," said Jack, as they drove along in the buggy the captain had let them have. "One such mix-up was enough." "I guess they haven't forgotten how they fared on that occasion," returned Andy. "They promised to call it off, if you'll remember." "So they did, but I shouldn't take their word for it," put in Pepper. They arrived at the Ford mansion without mishap, having met absolutely nobody on the road. Laura and Flossie were there, and also Mrs. Ford and a niece from Rochester, and all did what they could to make the time pass pleasantly for the boys. They played croquet and lawn tennis, and went out for a short row. "You boys can certainly handle the oars," said Laura, with a sunny smile. "I wish I could row half as well." "It's practice that does it," answered Jack. "Now, all of you girls can play croquet better than we can." The party of girls and cadets was just returning to the house when they heard a loud scream coming from the direction of the road running to Point View Lodge. "Hullo, what does that mean?" cried Jack, stopping short. "Somebody is in trouble!" came from Andy. "Help! save me!" was the cry. "Save me! I'll be eaten up alive!" "Something is wrong, fellows. Come on!" ejaculated Jack, and ran forward, catching up an oar as he spoke. The others followed, one with another oar, and Andy with a boathook. They were just in time to see a colored woman, who was the cook at the mansion, flying into a side door. "I see what's up!" exclaimed Jack, pointing down the road. "It's the tiger!" "The tiger!" echoed Pepper, and all of the girls set up a scream. "Yes, there he is--crouching by the side of yonder tree." "I see him!" "So do I," put in Andy. "Quick, girls, get into the house before he comes this way!" "Come in! Come in!" roared the colored cook. "He'll eat you all up!" As fast as they could the girls ran for the mansion, entering by a back door. The cadets followed. Looking back they saw the tiger moving slowly from the vicinity of the tree to a clump of bushes on the lawn. "He is certainly coming this way," called out Jack. "He is moving for the house, too!" put in Pepper. "There he goes around to the kitchen door!" Pepper spoke the truth. The tiger had reached the back door. Now he bounded up the small stoop, and a second later entered the kitchen of the mansion. CHAPTER XV PRISONERS OF A WILD BEAST As soon as they could do so the three cadets ran into the side door of the mansion. They found the girls on an upper landing, gazing down anxiously. "Is the tiger coming?" called down Laura. "Yes, he's in the kitchen," answered Jack. "The kitchen!" gasped Mrs. Ford, who had come out of the library. "Oh, save me, somebody!" came from the rear of the mansion, and the butler appeared, with his hair almost on end. "A wild beast, mum--roaming the pantry, mum," he spluttered. "Better go upstairs, all of you," said Jack, as he heard the tiger leap upon a table. "Dat's where I'm a-goin'," said the cook, and ran to the top of the house, followed by the butler, where both locked themselves in their rooms. The girls and Mrs. Ford were soon on the second floor of the mansion, and the three cadets followed. "Shut all of the doors tight, Mrs. Ford," said Jack. "For all we know, he may take it into his head to come upstairs." Following Jack's directions, the doors were closed, and the family gathered in a large room in the front of the mansion. "Whatever are we to do?" questioned Laura, helplessly. "Well, we can stay here," answered her sister. "That is what I am going to do for the present." "Where is Joseph?" asked Mrs. Ford. The man she mentioned was the gardener. "He has gone to town to have the lawn mower repaired," answered Laura. She turned to Jack. "Oh, isn't this dreadful!" "Have you got anything in the way of a gun or a pistol, Mrs. Ford?" questioned the young major. "My husband keeps a pistol in his bedroom. I can get it for you." "Please do so." "Are you going to risk going after the tiger?" asked Andy. "A pistol won't fetch him," put in Pepper. "He looks as tough as a boarding-house steak." "I want to investigate, and I'll feel safer with the pistol," answered Jack. The weapon was soon brought and the young major saw that it was ready for use. It looked as if it might do considerable damage. "Keep all the doors but this one shut," said Jack, and then tiptoed his way into the hall once more. He looked down the stairs and along the lower hallway, but could see nothing of the tiger. "How are you making out?" questioned Pepper, coming out behind him with a bed slat. "Don't see anything yet." Andy came out into the hallway also, and the three listened intently. All was quiet outside and not a sound came from the lower floor of the mansion. "Perhaps he went outside again," whispered Andy. "It wouldn't be natural for him to stay indoors. Tigers love to roam the forest, and lay in wait for----" "I hear him!" interrupted Pepper. "Hark!" All listened again, and now they could hear the creature moving from the kitchen into the library, and then to the parlor. A discord on the piano followed. "Hullo, he is trying the piano!" cried Pepper, and grinned. "Maybe he'll play us a waltz!" From the parlor the tiger roamed into the library, and then showed his head in the hallway for an instant. But before Jack could take aim the beast had disappeared. "He is making himself at home," muttered the young major. "Wish I could get a chance at him." "Here he comes again!" cried Pepper, and at that moment the tiger came out into the hall and turned partly around. Jack had his pistol ready, and taking a quick aim, he pulled the trigger. There was a flash and a report, in the semi-dark hallway, and the tiger gave a snarl of pain. Then he glanced up the stairs, glared at the cadets, and came up four steps at a time. "Into the room, quick!" yelled Jack, and blazed away twice in rapid succession. The tiger was struck in the fore leg, and came to a pause close to the top of the stairs. Jack fired one more shot, then followed his chums into the room, and the door was closed and locked. "Did you hit him?" queried several, in concert. "I certainly did, but I don't know how badly he is wounded. Mrs. Ford, have you any cartridges for this pistol?" "Yes," answered the lady of the mansion, and brought forth a box half full. Without loss of time, Jack filled up the empty chambers of the pistol. "He is snarling outside of the door!" cried Laura. "Oh, do you think he'll try to break down the door?" Before anybody could answer there came a wild snarl, and then a thump on the barrier that almost took the door from its hinges. "Better get into the next room," called out Pepper. "He'll break in here if he can." "Let us move the bed against the door," suggested Andy. The bed was a large affair, of solid mahogany, and would prove an excellent barrier, but before it could be rolled into position there came a crash, and the tiger's head appeared through a portion of one of the door panels. Crack! crack! went the pistol in Jack's hand, and as quickly as he had appeared the tiger disappeared, with a wound in the jaw and another along the left ear. "Guess that will teach him to keep his distance," said the young major. "He is going to the front of the house," cried Andy. "The upper veranda! He is going out on the upper veranda!" cried Mrs. Ford. "He'll come through the windows!" burst from Flossie's lips. "Let us go to another room, mamma!" And the girls and their mother did so. Andy and Pepper looked inquiringly at Jack. "A few more shots ought to make him tired of living," said the young major. "Let me try the pistol on him," came from Pepper, and having secured the weapon, he peeped out into the hallway. The tiger stood at the front end, gazing at the upper veranda and beyond. Pepper was not an extra shot, but the bullet took the tiger in the left hind knee, and made him utter a fierce snarl. He leaped out on the veranda, and then made another leap into the branches of a nearby tree. "He has taken to the tree!" "Let me give him a shot too," pleaded Andy, and having received the pistol, he awaited his opportunity, and blazed away, hitting the beast in the side. There was a snarl, and the tiger fell to the grass, rolling over and over in evident pain. "Good!" cried Jack. "That's one of the shots that told! Give him another, Andy!" and the cadet did so. "What's all this shooting about?" came from the roadway, and Mr. Ford appeared, in company with his gardener. "Gracious! Where did that tiger come from?" he added. "It's the one that got away from the circus the other day!" called down Jack. "Look out, there may be some fight left in him yet, although we have peppered him pretty well." "Throw down the pistol and I'll finish him," said the gentleman. "Let us finish him, won't you?" pleaded Pepper. "All right, you can do so." All three of the cadets went down the front stairs with a rush, while the girls and Mrs. Ford came out on the upper balcony. Pepper fired one shot, Jack a second, and Andy a third. The last was too much for his tigership, and with a final quiver he rolled over, stretched out, and lay dead. "Is he--he dead?" asked the gardener cautiously. "I think so," answered Mr. Ford. "But don't go near him yet--he may be shamming." They waited a few minutes, and then Jack went up carefully and made an examination. "Dead as a barn door!" he called out. "My, what a big fellow he is!" "Are you certain he is dead?" faltered Laura. "Yes," answered her father. "Are there any more of them?" "He is the only one that got loose," answered Pepper. Thus assured, the girls and Mrs. Ford came downstairs, followed later by the butler and the cook. The latter was still trembling. "Thought we was goin' to be eat up suah!" said the cook. "It was a great happening, sir," said the butler. "I can't abide wild beasts, sir, not me!" "You ought to have the skin of this tiger," said Jack to Mrs. Ford. "It would make a fine rug." "Yes, mamma, let us have the skin by all means," pleaded Laura. "We can have it fixed up with the head on, and it will look beautiful!" "I'll have to see the circus people about it," came from Mr. Ford. "Tell me how he happened to come here." And then all told their stories, to which the gentleman listened closely. "I'm so glad these young men were here," said Mrs. Ford. "Had we been alone, I do not know what might have happened." The tiger was dragged to a carriage shed by the gardener and the boys, and then the cook was sent off to get dinner ready. It was found that outside of eating up some steaks, drinking a pan of milk, and breaking a few dishes, the tiger had done no damage. Every bullet aimed at him had taken effect, and there were also two old wounds on him, in the leg and side. "He must have gotten these old wounds when he leaped into the lake," said Mrs. Ford. "But it was a mistake to report him drowned." "I don't know as I ever want to meet another tiger at large," said Andy. "They are too dangerous!" "Yes, Snow," answered Mr. Ford. "You can all be thankful that he did not get at you. If he had, he might have made mince-meat of one or another in no time." CHAPTER XVI OFF ON A LONG MARCH When the boys returned to Putnam Hall and told about their adventure with the tiger, they were proclaimed genuine heroes. "You certainly deserve a great deal of credit," said Captain Putnam. "Just the same, had I known the tiger was still at large, I should have kept you at the Hall." Later on, the circus authorities were communicated with, and from them Rossmore Ford obtained the skin of the beast, and had it prepared, with the head on, for a rug; and it is in his mansion on the floor to this day. The cadets of Putnam Hall were now getting ready for an outing to last several days. Before winter set in, the captain wished to give them a taste of camp life, and so decided to make a march to a beautiful valley some twenty miles away. Here the boys were to go into camp for two nights, returning on the next day. "That is what I'll like!" exclaimed Stuffer Singleton. "No lessons to study. Only to march, get up an appetite, and eat!" "Especially eat!" said Andy. "That hits Stuffer every time." "We're to go on army rations," put in Pepper, with a wink at his chums. "Pork and beans, and hard-tack." "No!" exclaimed Stuffer in alarm. "Who told you that?" "Why, everybody knows it," put in Andy. "We'll see that you get all the hard-tack you want, Stuffer," went on Pepper. "The captain won't want you to go hungry, you know." "I don't want any hard-tack," growled Stuffer, in disgust. "I thought we'd get the same kind of feed as we get here." The march had suddenly lost all of its interest for him. "Better take some private rations along," suggested another cadet. "A loaf of bread, or some dried herrings, or----" "Oh, you're joking!" exclaimed the boy who loved to eat. "I'm going to ask Mr. Strong," and off he ran, while the others set up a loud laugh. It was a cool, crisp morning when the battalion started. The cadets made a fine showing in their clean, neat uniforms, with buttons and buckles polished to the last degree. Major Jack was at the head of the column, and he was certainly proud of his position, and had a right to be. "Shoulder arms, forward, march!" was the command given, and the drums sounded out, and the column moved off. A few people were present to see them march away, and these gave a cheer. "Ain't no nicer school in these United States!" exclaimed Peleg Snuggers, enthusiastically. "Them boys is the real thing, right straight through!" "An' nice boys, too," added Mrs. Green. "God bless 'em, every one!" For the first mile the route was along the lake shore. Then the battalion turned to the westward, and were soon pursuing a road that wound in and out among the hills. The cadets passed through several small villages, and the inhabitants came out to gaze at them in wonder, while the small boys set up a cheer. One of the villages had just been left behind, when those in the front of the line of march heard a loud tooting from an automobile horn. "Here comes one of those big autos," said Pepper. "Say, it's coming at a spanking gait, too." "Hope it gives us plenty of room," came from another cadet. "I don't like to meet those big machines, when they are going at a twenty-mile clip." The automobile was coming around a turn of the road, and soon it was almost on top of Company A. The cadets were marching on the right side of the road, but the automobile crowded them closely. "Hi, there, keep to your side of the road!" shouted Jack. "Go to Halifax!" growled the man who was running the machine, a big burly fellow, with a red face. "If you don't keep to your side of the road there will be trouble," answered Jack, sharply, and then the young major commanded the battalion to halt. He was in sole charge, Captain Putnam and his assistants having gone ahead to arrange for dinner. "Look here, young fellow, you can't bulldoze me, even if you are in soldier clothes!" stormed the man, bringing his machine to a standstill. "Never mind, Carl!" pleaded a lady who sat on the rear seat of the automobile. "Let us go on." "I want him to understand he can't bulldoze me, Annie." "I am not trying to bulldoze you, sir," answered Jack. "We are entitled to half the roadway, and we are going to have it." "Feel big, don't you?" sneered the automobilist. "Are you going to give us half the road or not?" "Give them what they want, Carl!" pleaded the lady. "I can't give them half the road," growled the man. "I'm not going to run my wheels into the soft ground for anybody. I might get stuck." "You can give us half the road and not get stuck either," returned Jack. He knew a little about running an automobile himself. The machine was standing almost in the middle of the road. Somewhat to the right was a puddle of water, and had the cadets marched around the machine, they would have had to go directly through the wet spot. "Do you expect us to march through that puddle?" demanded the young major, after a pause. "You can break ranks and go around the other way," answered the man. He evidently wanted to make as much trouble for the young soldiers as he could. "We are not breaking ranks for that purpose." Jack's face was growing white. "I'll give you just two minutes in which to get out of the road. Now be quick, and move on!" "Ho! do you intend to dictate to me?" growled the man, but looked just a bit anxious. For reply the young major got out his watch. At the same time he turned to the two companies behind him. "Support arms!" was the command. "Fix bayonets!" And at the last word the cadets drew their shining bayonets from their scabbards and fastened them to their guns. "Oh, Carl, do move to one side!" cried the lady, in terror. "They are going to charge on us!" "Hi! hi! don't you charge!" yelled the man. He knew only too well what bayonets could do to the rubber tires of his automobile. "Time is up," called out Major Jack. "Are you going to get to your side of the road or not?" "Wait--I'll try it," grumbled the man, and turning on the power, he moved to one side, and passed the two companies with ease. Several made imitation charges on his rubber tires as he passed, much to his alarm. "What a brute!" was Andy's comment, as the cadets moved on once more. "I suppose he wanted the whole road to himself." "A good many folks who own autos forget that other folks have rights on the road which they are bound to respect," answered Joe Nelson. "If they had their way, they'd ride over everything and everybody that came along." A short distance further on, the battalion came to another village, and here the young soldiers stopped for dinner. Without loss of time Jack reported to Captain Putnam. "I am sorry you had trouble," said the owner of the Hall. "You did right to demand half the road. If you have more trouble, let me know." Dinner was had under some large spreading chestnut trees. It was plain but wholesome, and the long morning march had given everybody a good appetite. "Are you enjoying your hard-tack, Stuffer?" asked Pepper, with a wink at the always-hungry cadet. "Humph! I knew you fellows were only fooling," was the answer. At two o'clock the march was resumed, and kept up until half-past five. They had now reached a spot known as Squire's Grove, and here tents were pitched in true military style. Big fires were started, and the cadets had their first taste of camp life. "Say, but I'd like about a month of this," was Andy's comment, after each cadet had been assigned to his quarters. "Perhaps we couldn't have some fun!" put in Pepper. "As it is, I'm going to try for some fun to-night." "Right you are, Pep." The air was so cool in the evening that the cadets were glad enough to gather around the big camp-fires. They told stories, and sang songs, and all too quickly came the hour to turn in. As Captain Putnam wanted the students to learn what real military life was like, each cadet was assigned to two hours of guard duty during the night. As soon as he heard of this, Pepper learned where Mumps would be stationed, and then called Andy to one side. "Did you hear that ghost story Dale was telling?" he questioned. "To be sure I did. It fairly made some of the younger lads tremble." "Did you notice how scared Mumps was?" "Yes." "Well, Mumps is going to see a ghost to-night, Andy." "How do you know?" "Because we are going to fix one up for him," and then Pepper unfolded a plan that had just entered his head. It met with instant approval, and soon the two boys started to carry it out. Taking a tree branch they wrapped it up in a white sheet, and on the top placed a white duck cap, making the whole look like the ghost of a cadet while at a distance. Then they took this out of camp, and placed it at the end of a strong cord, running up over the limb of a tree. The figure was pulled up among the branches, out of sight, and this done they sought out Mumps. "Say, Mumps, was it you told the fellows that a cadet was once murdered around here?" questioned Pepper, innocently. "Murdered?" returned the sneak of the school. "No, I never heard of it." "They say a cadet was murdered at this place about four years ago, and that if you watch for it, you can see his ghost among the trees." "Ah, you can't scare me," returned Mumps. "I'm not trying to scare you. I thought you told the story yourself," was the answer, and then Andy and Pepper strolled on. "He'll remember that, I'll wager," whispered Pepper. "We'll know better when he goes on guard," answered Andy, and then they waited impatiently for the time to come when they could work off their little joke on the sneak. CHAPTER XVII MUMPS SEES A GHOST As luck would have it, Pepper and Andy went on guard from ten o'clock to midnight, while Mumps had his time set from midnight to two in the morning. As soon as they came in from guard duty, Pepper and Andy told a few of their chums of what was in the air, and they all stole from their tents to a spot overlooking the ground that Mumps would have to cover during the next two hours. The sneak was already on duty, pacing up and down slowly, with his gun on his shoulder. He had to march from one tree in the grove to another, a distance of two hundred feet. As the sneak passed the tree where the white figure was concealed, Pepper, who was close at hand, uttered a low and unearthly groan. At once Mumps came to a halt. "Wh--what's that?" he faltered. For reply Pepper uttered another groan, and Andy followed with a sound like that of a dying calf. "I say, what's that?" repeated the sneak. All was so dark and strange around him that he felt anything but comfortable. "Murdered!" moaned Pepper. "Murdered!" "Murdered!" put in Andy, in a solemn tone. "Oh, to be avenged!" Then when Mumps' back was turned Pepper allowed the white figure to drop to within a foot of the ground. As it was light in weight, the breeze made it sway slowly from side to side. "Ha! ha! ha!" came from Andy and Pepper together. At this blood-curdling laugh the sneak of the school turned around once again. When he saw the swaying figure in white his teeth began to chatter. "Oh! Ple--please go--go a--away!" he groaned. "G--go away!" "Ha! ha! ha!" went on Pepper and Andy. "Down on thy knees, if thou wouldst live!" "Don't!" screamed Mumps, and fell on his knees. "Oh, please, don't kill me! I--I didn't have anything to do with killing that other fellow, indeed I didn't!" "Thou art doomed!" went on the Imp and his chum. "Doomed! doomed! doomed!" came from half a dozen. All of the cadets could scarcely keep from laughing. "Oh, save me!" yelled Mumps, and sprang to his feet. "Save me! Save me from the ghost!" And throwing down his gun he started for the center of the camp, with all the speed at his command. The other cadets set up a laugh, but the sneak was too paralyzed with fear to pay attention to it. Still yelling for help he ran down the main street of the camp, and plunged into the tent occupied by Captain Putnam. "Hullo, what's the trouble?" came from Captain Putnam. "Oh, the ghost! Please save me from the ghost, Captain Putnam!" howled Mumps, and clutched the master of the Hall by the arm. "Save me! The ghost is going to kill me!" "Why, Master Fenwick, what is the trouble? Have you a nightmare?" "No, sir. It's the ghost of the murdered cadet! I--I saw it. It came after me! Oh, save me!" "Nonsense! You have seen no ghost. Be reasonable." "I did see it, sir. It was all white, and it was going to kill me!" And the sneak clung tighter than ever. "This is some trick." The captain slipped into his clothes, and turned up a lantern hanging on a tent post. "I'll investigate. Come along." "Oh, I--I'm afraid!" whined Mumps. "You need not be, Fenwick. I'll protect you. Come along. There are no such things as ghosts." It was fully five minutes before Captain Putnam could get the sneak to accompany him to the spot where the latter had been doing guard duty. In the meantime the whole camp had been aroused, and Pepper and Andy had folded up the sheet and put it away, along with the cap and the cord. "You can see for yourself that there is nothing here, Fenwick," said the captain, gazing around. "But I saw it, Captain Putnam. A tall white figure, right there." "You must have been dreaming." "No, sir, I saw it, I am certain." "Well, where is it now?" "I don't know, sir." An investigation was made, but, of course, nothing out of the ordinary was brought to light. "You had better go back to your duty, Fenwick," said the master of the Hall at last. "Oh, sir--supposing that ghost comes again?" "Run up and catch hold of it. You'll likely find it some joke the other cadets have played on you," and Captain Putnam smiled broadly. "A joke!" Mumps looked interested. "Do you think it was a joke?" "More than likely." "Oh, but it looked so real!" "A ghost can't look real. You have been deceived. Go back to your duty," and the master of Putnam Hall returned to his tent, and Mumps resumed his guard duty, with a heart that trembled every time he took a step. "Gosh! but that was rich!" laughed Andy, when the affair was over. "Talk about being scared," returned Pepper. "I was afraid he would have a regular fit!" There was more fun that night. Poor Hogan was tossed in a blanket, and Dan Baxter had three frogs placed between the blankets of his cot. Our friends did not escape, for in the morning Pepper found a sharp burr in one shoe, and Andy found the sleeves of his coat tied into hard knots. Jack was minus his shoes, which were finally located dangling from the limb of a tree back of his tent. "Hullo, Major Ruddy has planted a shoe tree!" cried one of the cadets. "Wouldn't mind having some seed, major. I'd like to grow a pair of slippers." "Why not try some lady-slipper seed," suggested Pepper. "I'll slipper the chap that put my shoes up there, if I can find him," grumbled Jack. At breakfast there was more fun. Dan Baxter's crowd was preparing a pot of coffee when Pepper, watching his chance, dropped a piece of soap into the pot. "Phew! but this is rank coffee!" came from Paxton, spitting out a mouthful. "Vilest I ever tasted," came from Coulter. "Say, Dan, did you make that out of stale glue, or old boots?" "It's good enough coffee for anybody," grumbled the bully. "If you don't like it, make it yourself after this." Then he took a deep gulp, just to show them he was not afraid to drink it. A wry face followed. "Fine, eh?" came from Paxton, sarcastically. "Regular Waldorf-Astoria brand," put in Coulter. "Something's got in the pot," cried the bully, and poured the coffee into a big pan that was handy. "What's this? A cake of soap, I declare! Who put that there?" "Excuse me from drinking soap coffee," grunted Paxton. "Hullo, Dan Baxter's crowd is drinking soap coffee!" shouted one of the cadets. "How do you like the flavor, Dan?" asked another. "Better than Java, eh?" came from a third cadet. "I have heard of all sorts of tastes in coffee, but I never heard of soap being used before," was Pepper's comment. "Baxter's afther wantin' a good wash on th' insoide!" came from Hogan. "Ah, you fellows shut up!" growled the bully, and taking the chunk of semi-soft soap, he hurled it at Pepper. But the Imp dodged, and the soap landed in Mumps' left eye. "Oh! oh!" howled the sneak. "Oh! you have put out my eye! Oh!" And he began to dance around wildly. "Didn't mean to hit you, Mumps," said Baxter. "I say," he called out; "who put that soap in the coffee?" "Here's a riddle," came from Andy. "A lima bean to the one who solves it last." "Coffee in the soap is good for warts," said Dale, with a grin, for Baxter's hands were covered with warts. "Just wait--I'll get square!" growled the bully; and there the talk had to come to an end. Breakfast over, there was a long drill, and then the cadets were allowed to do as they pleased for several hours. Some wandered through the woods, while others went to a nearby brook to fish. Half a dozen of Baxter's crowd went off through the woods by themselves. "Where are they going?" asked Pepper. "I don't know--and don't much care," answered Jack. Baxter's crowd walked through the woods to where there was a farmhouse, and there stopped to get some apples and some milk. While stopping at the place they got into conversation with the farmer's daughter, a pleasant-looking damsel of eighteen. "She's a beauty," said Coulter. Baxter followed the farmer's daughter to the dairy, and began to talk to her in a pleasant way. Then he tried to put his arm around her waist. "Stop that!" she said sharply. "I'm not going to hurt you," said he. "Won't you give me just one kiss?" "I'll give you--this!" she answered quickly, and, taking up a can of sour milk, she threw it directly into his face. Then she ran into the house, shrieking with laughter. "Dan got it that time!" said Paxton, with a snicker. "It was real sweet, too!" added Coulter. Wild with rage, Baxter wiped the sour milk from his face and hair. "I'll fix you for that!" he roared, and started to go into the house, but the girl appeared with a broom. "You keep away!" she cried, shrilly. "If you don't, I'll set our dog on you!" "Oh, come on away!" put in Mumps, in alarm. "Come on!" And he hurried towards the road. "I guess we had better go," whispered Coulter. "If the farmer should report us to Captain Putnam, there would be the Old Nick to pay," and he too walked off, with Paxton and the sneak beside him. Seeing there was no help for it, Baxter withdrew, the girl laughing merrily at him as he did so. CHAPTER XVIII THE YOUNG MAJOR SHOWS HIS COURAGE All too soon for the young cadets the encampment in the grove came to an end, and the march back to Putnam Hall was taken up. "This gives us a taste of what the annual encampment will be like," said Andy. "My, but won't we have just boss times!" And his face glowed with anticipation. The day was positively cold, and the young soldiers were glad enough to march along briskly. Mile after mile was covered, until they came to the place where they had taken dinner when coming from the Hall. While they were resting Jack and Pepper fell in with a boy of the neighborhood, who was riding a bicycle. The boy asked them about life at the Hall, and in return they questioned him about his wheeling trips. "You can try my wheel if you wish," said the youth to them, and Pepper took a short spin up the road and back. Then Jack turned his sword over to his chum and hopped into the saddle. "The seat isn't quite high enough for me," said the young major. "But it's a good wheel and I feel as if I could pedal ten or twenty miles without half trying." Jack had gone quite a distance down the road when he heard a whirring sound, and looking in the direction, saw an automobile approaching. It was coming at good speed, and swaying from side to side. "Hullo, I'll have to get out of the way, or run the risk of being run over," he said to himself, and drew up near a stone fence. As the automobile came closer he saw that it contained only a lady and a little girl. The lady was holding on to the steering wheel with one hand, and holding the girl with the other. "Oh, help!" she cried out, as the automobile passed Jack. "Help! I cannot stop the machine!" And then she passed by in a cloud of dust. For the moment Jack did not comprehend. Then he shut his teeth hard, turned around, and raced after the automobile on the bicycle. "I'll have to stop that machine for her if I can!" he reasoned. "I suppose she is afraid the girl will fall out, or else the lever is stuck." The automobile was now a good distance down the road, and running dangerously close to the stone fence. Then it swayed to the other side, two wheels going into some mud. "Help! help!" the lady shrieked, at some cadets standing near. "Here comes Jack on the bicycle!" exclaimed Andy. "Look, he is going after the auto!" put in Pepper. Along the road swung the ponderous machine, the lady continuing to call for help, and the little girl crying in her terror. Behind, Jack was doing his best to catch the runaway machine. It was a stiff race, and for several minutes it looked as if the young cadet would not make it. But at last he closed the gap ahead, and came up directly behind the automobile. Then, with a quick leap, he cleared the bicycle handle bars and caught hold of the back seat of the turnout ahead. "What's the matter?" he asked, as he piled forward. "Can't you stop it?" "No, the lever is stuck!" gasped the woman. She was on the point of fainting through excitement and fear. Jack bent down, and his knowledge of automobiles stood him in good stead. He saw how the lever had become bent. With all of his might he tugged upon it, and brought it back. At once the automobile began to slacken its pace. Then came another pull, and the ponderous machine came to a complete standstill. "Oh!" murmured the lady, and sank back in a deathlike swoon. "Oh, Aunt Annie is dying!" shrieked the little girl. "Oh, dear, I never want to ride like this again!" "She isn't dying," said Jack. "She'll soon be better." He looked back and saw some of the cadets hurrying along the road. Soon Pepper came up, followed by Andy and a dozen others, and then Captain Putnam put in an appearance. The lady was lifted from the automobile and carried to a shady spot under a tree. She had smelling salts with her, and was treated with these, and her face was bathed with water from the brook. Soon she opened her eyes and stared around her. "You are safe, madam," said the captain. "Pray take it easy." "And Jennie, my niece?" "She is safe too." "What a fearful ride I have had," went on the lady, with a shudder. "It was awful! The auto got entirely beyond my control. Where is the brave young gentleman who stopped it for me?" "Here he is," answered Captain Putnam, pointing to Jack. "What, you! Why, you--er--you are the young man that--that had the trouble with my husband a few days ago," faltered the lady, and reddened. "Never mind about that," said Jack, quickly. He remembered what the lady had said on that occasion. "I'm glad I happened to be on the bicycle." "You sprang from the wheel into the machine?" "Yes, ma'am." "It was a brave thing to do. I thank you from the bottom of my heart." A few minutes later a buggy came along, being driven furiously by the man who owned the automobile. He leaped out and ran toward his wife and his little niece. "Are they hurt?" he demanded. "No, Carl, we are not hurt," answered his wife. "What made you run off so furiously, Annie?" "I didn't do it on purpose. The machine started up, and I could not stop it." "That young soldier saved us, Uncle Carl," came from the little girl. "He rode on his wheel after us, and jumped into our auto and pulled on the handles till it stopped." The man looked at Jack, and his face grew red. "Why--er--did you--er--you stop the auto for my wife?" he stammered. "I did," answered the young major, coldly. "He did it at the risk of his life, too," added the lady. "Carl, we owe him a great deal." The man's face became a study. "How did you do it?" he asked at length. "Tell me the story, won't you?" And Jack did so, and then the lady had her say, and so did Captain Putnam. "I thank you, sir," said the man. "It was handsome of you, handsome. And after I treated you so meanly, too! Say, do you know how I feel? I feel like two cents!" "Let us drop it," said Jack, and walked away. But the man came after him, and his voice was full of emotion. "Don't go off that way. I want to tell you something. I--I acted like a fool the other day. It wasn't fair at all. And now you've done the handsome thing. It was great, simply great! I thank you, and I ask your pardon at the same time. Won't you shake hands?" "Certainly!" cried Jack, and held out his hand, which the other grasped tightly. "It's all right--only please give us a little more show when we're on the march after this." "You shall have the whole road--you deserve it!" answered the man, heartily. "This has taught me a lesson I'll not forget," he added, as he turned back to look after his wife and inspect the automobile. It took some time to repair the big machine, and in the meantime the cadets walked away, and Jack delivered the wheel to the owner. "That was a great ride of yours," said the boy. "And that jump into the auto was grand. Do you know that man?" "No." "His name is Carl Reuterman. He is a rich brewer. He runs all over these roads, and he is rather careless. But I guess he'll be more careful after this." "He'll have to be--or he and his family will get into trouble," returned Jack. "Did he reward you, Jack?" asked Pepper, later on. "No, and I don't want any reward," answered the young major. "I don't risk my neck for pay." The march back to school came to an end that evening at seven o'clock. A hot supper awaited all hands, and the manner in which the students pitched in was astonishing. "We're going to have cold weather now," said Pepper, on turning in. "There's a heavy frost on the ground already." "Frost will be good for the nuts," came from Andy. "That's the idea!" put in Henry Lee. "Let us organize a nutting party. I know where we can get a lot of nuts. The trees are just loaded with them." "All right, I'm ready any time Captain Putnam will let us off," came from Jack. "But I don't believe he will let us off this week, on account of the outing we have already had," and he was right. The cold weather continued, and there was a promise of snow in the air. The week passed, and on the following Saturday the master of the Hall said all of the pupils could go out in the woods for three hours, if they wished. "But you must be careful of two things," he said. "Do not get lost, and do not poach on private grounds." "I don't think I'll get lost," said Andy. He had been out in the woods a number of times. The boys divided up into half a dozen parties, and set off with light hearts. Each party carried bags for nuts, and Jack had a pocket compass, in case his party should miss the way. Just after they had started Dale came to Jack. "Baxter is going up to Top Rock Hill," said he. "I believe that is private property." "I was going there myself," said the young major, "but not on private grounds. There are a good many trees outside of the inclosures." "I'll wager Baxter gets into trouble," said Dale. And he was right, as later events proved. CHAPTER XIX THE RESULT OF THE NUTTING PARTY All the boys who accompanied Jack were good walkers, and it was not long before they were deep in the woods back of Putnam Hall. The clear, bracing air put them in good spirits, and more than one began to whistle as they went on their way. "There is a barbed wire fence!" cried Pepper, as they began to ascend Top Rock Hill. "We can't go over that, I suppose." "Here is a path to the left," answered Andy. "And I don't know but what it is the better of the two." Not long after that they struck the first nut tree. They sent up a dozen sticks and stones, and down came a perfect shower of chestnuts, so thick in fact that they had to "stand from under" until the nuts stopped coming down. "We've struck a bonanza, first trip," cried Dale. "This will fill one-third of our bags at least." They began to pick up the nuts industriously, and soon had the majority of them. Then they passed on up the hill and soon found another tree almost as good. "Let us go to the very top of this hill," said Jack. "We are sure to get a beautiful view from up there." For the time being nutting was forgotten, and they raced along, to see who should get to the top of the hill first. But Dale outdistanced the others with ease. "No use talking, Dale, you are the champion runner of Putnam Hall!" cried Jack, enthusiastically. "If we had a game of hare and hounds you ought to be the hare." "And no hounds would ever catch him," put in Pepper. "Gosh, but running makes a chap hungry!" came from Stuffer. "Have some chestnuts," answered Andy. "Yes, here are a few to start on," came from Pepper, and he let several fall down the hungry youth's back, inside his shirt. "Wow! Let up!" ejaculated Stuffer, squirming around. "Don't! They'll scratch me all the rest of the day!" "Stand on your head and shake them out, Stuffer," suggested Jack, and in the end that was what the hungry youth had to do. But he got square that night by placing some chestnut burrs in Pepper's bed, much to the Imp's discomfiture. The top of the hill gained, a grand panorama was spread out on all sides of them. To the westward were other hills, with streams winding along them, and to the eastward Putnam Hall and the broad lake, the latter lying like a sheet of silver among the trees and rocks. "Isn't it great?" said Jack. "Do you know, I wish we had brought a camera along. I'd like a photo of it." "We can come up some day and take pictures," replied Andy. "The folks at home will be glad to see them." "Say, fellows, look over there!" came from Stuffer, a moment later. "Am I mistaken, or is that Dan Baxter and his party?" "To be sure it is Baxter, Paxton, and Mumps," answered Jack. He gazed a moment longer. "What are those men doing to them?" "I can't make out." "The men have sticks, and one has a gun!" exclaimed Pepper. "As sure as you are born, Baxter and his cronies are in trouble!" "They went into private grounds, that's what the trouble is, and those men have caught them," said Dale. "Just the same, fellows, I'd hate to see any of our cadets come to harm." "Baxter will earn what he gets, Dale." "Let us sneak closer and see what is being done," said another. "We don't want to see anybody shot." So it was agreed, and with their bags of nuts over their shoulders they hurried in the direction where they had located the bully and his cronies. As they surmised, the party had poached on a private preserve, and the owner of the place, a hot-tempered old gentleman from Syracuse, and his three workmen, had caught them red-handed, with their bags loaded with the choicest kind of nuts. To their consternation the old gentleman at first threatened to shoot the evil-doers, at which Mumps fell on his knees and begged for mercy. Then he ordered them to place all their nuts in a heap on the ground. "Now, I'll let you off on one condition," he said, sternly. "What condition?" asked Paxton. "Oh, I'll do anything!" howled the sneak of the Hall. "Only don't have me arrested." "If the three of you will pick for me a full bushel of nuts I will let you all go," said the owner of the preserve. "Humph!" grumbled Baxter. "Aren't you satisfied to rob us of those we have already picked?" "I cannot rob you of what is already mine, young man." "I'll pick nuts for you," said Mumps, eagerly. "So will I," added Paxton, humbly. "I'll not pick any more," came from the bully, defiantly. "Very well, then, I'll have you sent down to the Cedarville jail. I don't think Captain Putnam will like that, or your parents, either." "It's a mean thing--to send a fellow to jail for a few nuts." "You saw my signs, and when you came in here you did it at your own risk. Men and boys have been hunting, fishing, and nutting in here until I am tired of it, and I shall make an example of you, unless you agree to do as I wish. I make this offer merely out of friendship for Captain Putnam." "I'm not going to pick any nuts," came firmly from Dan Baxter. He had on an extra stubborn streak. "Very well, then. Mike and John, make him a prisoner." Without ceremony two of the workmen leaped forward and caught hold of the bully. He tried to resist, but in a twinkling one of the workmen laid him flat on his back. Then his hands were tied behind him. "Let me go!" he roared. "You keep quiet or you'll get a sound thrashing," ejaculated the gentleman, whose temper was none of the best. "I--I'll make you pay for this!" "Perhaps you'll do a little paying for yourself, unless you wish to serve a term in prison." After this there came a spell of silence, during which Paxton and Mumps piled up as many nuts as they could. "I want your names," said the gentleman, taking out a note-book and a pencil. "Mine is John Fenwick," said the sneak, humbly. He felt there would be no profit in acting ugly. "Now yours, young man?" "Nick Paxton." "And now I want yours." "Perhaps I won't give it to you," returned the bully. "Really! Mike, did you bring that horsewhip along?" "I did that, sur," answered the workman addressed. "Don't you dare to horsewhip me!" cried Baxter, and now for the first time he turned pale. "Then give me your name." "Jerry Smoker." "Um! I believe I heard one of the others call you Dan," said the gentleman, sharply. To this the bully was silent. "Come, give me your correct name--or it shall go hard with you." "Dan Baxter." "That's better." "See here, if I help pick nuts will you let me off?" said the bully, after an awkward pause. "No, it is too late now." This reply disconcerted the bully greatly, and he did not know what to say further. He had a vision of being taken to the Cedarville jail, and it caused him to shiver. "That's rough on Baxter," whispered Jack, he and his chums having come closer during the conversation. "Well, he brought it on himself," answered Pepper. "The captain warned him not to go on private property." "He could easily do as Mumps and Paxton are doing," put in Andy. "They are getting off easily enough." Not long after this the gentleman that owned the preserve told Paxton and the sneak of the Hall that they might quit gathering nuts. "Let this be a lesson to you, John Fenwick and Nicholas Paxton," he said, sternly. "I shall keep your names before me, and if I ever find you here again it shall go hard with you." "Can we go?" questioned Mumps, eagerly. "Yes." "Come on, Nick." "Are you going to desert me?" cried Dan Baxter, in fresh alarm. "I want them to go, and at once," said the gentleman. "I can take care of your case without their aid." A little more talk followed, and then Paxton and Mumps shoved off, in the manner of two whipped curs, leaving the bully of Putnam Hall to his fate. "Perhaps we ought to try to rescue Baxter," whispered Jack to his chums. He was too generous-hearted to see any fellow cadet in trouble without trying to aid him. "Don't you attempt it," put in Dale. "But if Baxter is put in jail it will bring discredit to the whole school, Dale." "I'll tell you what we can do," came from Pepper. "To get to Cedarville, the owner of this place will have to take the Rumley Road. Let us get back to the Hall and tell the captain what is going on. Perhaps he can stop the party on the way to Cedarville and make a deal with the man who wants to have Baxter arrested." "That's an idea! Come on!" cried Andy. With their bags of nuts on their shoulders, Jack and his friends hurried away, down the hill and along the highway leading to Putnam Hall. Before they reached the school they had to take to a side road, and along this they fairly ran, so that they might not be too late with their news. As luck would have it, they came upon the master of the Hall just as the latter was returning from a visit to the gymnasium. "Oh, Captain Putnam, we have news!" cried Andy. "Dan Baxter is in trouble, and a man is going to take him down to Cedarville to have him jailed." "Baxter in trouble?" repeated Captain Putnam. His face grew serious. "Tell me the particulars." As well as they were able, they did so. The master of the Hall took in what they said in silence and his face grew stem. "You are sure Paxton and Fenwick were allowed their liberty?" he said at last. "Yes, sir." "Very well; I'll meet Mr. Ringwood, and see what I can do about this. I am glad you told me." "We didn't wish to see any of the cadets put in jail," came from Jack. "It would bring discredit to the whole school." "Right you are, Major Ruddy. I'll go out to meet Mr. Ringwood at once, and you can go along if you wish." CHAPTER XX OUT IN THE COLD It was not long after this that our friends and Captain Putnam reached the main road leading from Top Rock Hill to Cedarville. Scarcely had they done so than they saw a carriage coming along the road, containing Mr. Ringwood, Dan Baxter, and two of the workingmen from the preserve. "Here they come!" cried Jack, and the captain ran out in the middle of the road and motioned for the carriage to stop. "Hullo, is that you, Captain Putnam?" called out Mr. Ringwood, in a far from pleasant tone. "It is, Mr. Ringwood, and I wish to talk to you." "I've got one of your students here." "So I see." "He's a bad egg, captain. I caught him stealing my nuts. After that he was impudent to me." "I wasn't impudent," grumbled the bully. "I just heard about it and I came out to meet you," answered Captain Putnam. "Won't you drive over to the Hall, and we'll try to settle this matter." "If you wish it, captain. I had half a mind to have the young rascal arrested." "There will be no need to do that, Mr. Ringwood. I think I can punish him sufficiently for what he has done." "Very well, then; I'll drive over." And in a moment more the carriage was headed for Putnam Hall, and the captain and our friends trudged after it. "You may go now, young gentlemen," said the master of the Hall. "If I wish you again, I'll call for you." This was a hint that they were not wanted, and off they went, across the campus and into the school by a side entrance, the others entering by the front way and going directly to Captain Putnam's private office. It was not until the next day that they learned something of what happened to Dan Baxter. From Peleg Snuggers the information went forth that the bully of the Hall was a close prisoner in a small room at the rear of the Hall. The window to this room was heavily barred, making the apartment a regular prison cell. "The captain give Baxter a talkin' to which would make your hair curl," said the general utility man. "He laid down the law good an' strong. He said he wasn't goin' to have no pupil a-gittin' the academy in disgrace. Then he made Crabtree put him in a cell, an' he's livin' on bread, soup, an' water fer a week." "Phew! That's pretty severe punishment!" cried Jack. "The captain must have been mad!" "You git the cap'n riled up real good an' you'll see a reg'lar cyclone broke loose," went on Snuggers. "I know him, because I worked fer the fam'ly before. He's real tame alongside o' what he was when he was an army officer." Mumps and Paxton had little or nothing to say. Each was given extra lessons to do, and did them without a murmur. They saw that the captain was much disturbed over what had happened and did not want to do anything to add to his anger. Two days after the outing for nuts, came a light fall of snow, and then the weather grew steadily colder and colder. As a consequence, many outdoor games came to an end, and the students spent their off time either in the library of the Hall or the gymnasium. The latter place was a favorite with Dale, who was beyond question the leading all-around athlete of the school. He was graceful on the rings and bars, and could jump and run with the best of them. The only one who could match him at all was Andy, who did things on the flying rings which would have done credit to a professional acrobat or gymnast. "Andy, you could go into a circus," said Jack, after watching the agile youth. "Perhaps I will go into a circus some day," answered Andy, seriously. "I've heard that some daring fellows earn two or three hundred dollars per week at it." "They do," put in Pepper. "But they risk their necks every time they perform." "I don't see how you can do some of those tricks," put in Joe Nelson. "As you do them, they seem as easy as pie, but when I try them, I can't do them at all." "I guess I was born to it," answered Andy, with a quiet smile. "Somehow it always came natural to me." "Must have circus blood in your veins," said Pepper, and then there was a general laugh. In his cell, Dan Baxter passed day after day in moody silence. He was allowed only his school books, and each day Josiah Crabtree or George Strong visited him to hear him recite. Only once did Coulter manage to see him on the sly. "Mumps and Paxton can't come," said Gus Coulter. "They are being watched night and day." "They have deserted me, and they gave me away!" growled the bully. "No, they haven't deserted you," answered Coulter. "And they didn't tell on you." "Then who did tell on me?" "Jack Ruddy, Pepper Ditmore, Andy Snow, and that crowd." "Are you sure of this, Gus?" "Positive." "Then I've got an account to settle with them when I get out," and the bully grated his teeth. He did not stop to consider that those who had informed on him had probably saved him from a term in the Cedarville jail. During those days spent by Baxter in his cell, Jack, Pepper, and Andy, along with a number of other students, had an exceedingly hard time of it with Josiah Crabtree. For some reason or other, the head teacher was feeling particularly cross, and he vented his anger on those under him, until they could scarcely stand it. He made them do all sorts of extra tasks, and "nagged" at them until some felt like open rebellion. "It's outrageous!" declared Andy. "Here I've got ten extra examples in algebra for nothing at all!" "And just because I dropped my history on the floor, old Crabtree made me stay in half an hour," grumbled Pepper. "I've caught it, too," came from Jack. "I missed in astronomy and had to study five pages extra. Mr. Strong or the captain never treated us that way!" "I wish we had another teacher in old Crabtree's place," came from Dale. "Captain Putnam can't discharge him," said Joe. "He's got a contract, so Stuffer was telling me." "I wish we could duck him in the lake. The cold water might do him good," went on Pepper. "That's a fine idea!" cried Andy. "It would certainly cool him off!" One day Captain Putnam was called away to Albany on business. As it chanced, George Strong was also absent, so the Hall was left in sole charge of Josiah Crabtree. "He will be more dictatorial than ever now," said Pepper, and so it proved. During the day over a dozen students got into "hot water," and at recess they held a secret meeting, to determine what had best be done. "If we could only get him out of the building we might keep him out," suggested Andy. "It's going to be a cold night, remember." This idea took like wild-fire, and it was resolved to get Josiah Crabtree out of the building by all means. Only the faithful were let into the secret, and they watched the teacher narrowly after the school session came to an end. "I know how to do it," said Pepper. And he unfolded his plot, to which the others listened eagerly. They saw Crabtree walk through a side hallway, and immediately hurried to a spot just around the corner from where the teacher was standing. "Yes, we'll meet at the gym to-night, at exactly ten o'clock," said Pepper in a loud voice. "Be sure and be on hand." "All right--the gym at ten o'clock," said Andy, in an equally loud voice. "We'll have a fine spread!" And then the boys ran off before Josiah Crabtree could stop them. The crabbed teacher heard what was said, and as soon as the cadets had vanished his face took on a crafty look. "The gymnasium at ten o'clock, eh?" he murmured to himself. "A fine spread, eh? Not if I know it! Josiah Crabtree, you must capture them, and make an example of them!" As the captain and Mr. Strong were away, he enlisted the services of Peleg Snuggers. It may be mentioned here that the other teachers came only during school hours, one living at Cedarville, and others coming but twice a week, to teach music and foreign languages. At the proper time that night all of the pupils but Pepper and Andy went to bed. The latter hid themselves in the hallway, one near Josiah Crabtree's room, and the other one downstairs. At a quarter to ten the teacher came forth from his room, wearing his regular school suit. As the gymnasium was only across the campus, he did not feel it necessary to don his overcoat. He slipped to the rear of the school, summoned Peleg Snuggers, and both left the building. "He has gone!" cried Andy, and rushing forward from his hiding place he locked the door. Then he and Pepper saw to it that all of the other doors and also the windows were secured. "Wait, I'll fix them better than that," said Jack, and secured small wedges of wood. These were driven under the doors, and alongside of the window sashes, so that they could not be opened without great effort. By this time fully a dozen of the cadets were out of their dormitories. Pepper and Andy went around summoning the others. "We want your aid," said Pepper, boldly. "Old Crabtree has gone outside and we mean to keep him out." "Everybody in favor of keeping him out raise their hands," called out Andy, and fully sixty hands went up. "Paxton, what do you say?" asked Jack. He knew Nick Paxton was the leader of the Baxter crowd during the absence of the bully. "I'm not saying anything," growled Paxton. "Don't you try to let Crabtree in," came from one cadet. "We are going to let him have a regular freeze-out." As Gus Coulter had had trouble with the teacher, he was willing to keep the man out, and so, after some talk, it was decided that nobody should aid in letting the teacher get into the Hall building. "If anybody tries it, he'll catch it good and hard," warned Pepper. "So say we all of us!" shouted a score of others. "No sneak wanted here!" And some glanced at Mumps in a fashion that made that youth slink out of sight in short order. Going to an upper window, Pepper, Andy, and Jack looked out, and saw Crabtree and Snuggers stealing softly around the gymnasium. After a look into several of the windows, the two men crouched down behind some bushes. "This is the best yet!" whispered Pepper. "They think we haven't arrived yet." "Let them wait," returned Jack. "It will cool them off sure. It is nipping cold to-night." CHAPTER XXI THE BOYS "HOLD THE FORT" Quarter of an hour passed, and still Josiah Crabtree and Peleg Snuggers remained in the vicinity of the gymnasium, while the boys, from behind the window shades, watched all of their movements. "They are cold enough," was Dale's comment. "See them slapping their arms." At last the crabbed teacher could stand it no longer. Leaving the general utility man to remain on guard, he started back for the Hall at a brisk pace. "He is coming!" whispered Jack. "Now, boys, don't make a sound." Reaching the door, Josiah Crabtree tried the knob. "Humph! Who could have locked that?" he asked of himself. "Certainly I did not. Snuggers must have the key." "Ain't got no key an' I didn't lock the door, Mister Crabtree," said the hired man, on being questioned. "Well, it is certainly locked now." "Ain't nobuddy come here neither," said Peleg Snuggers. He was growing tired of waiting around in the cold. "I'll try the other doors," came from Josiah Crabtree, and he hurried off once more. Of course he found everything tight shut. "Somebody has locked us out," he muttered. "It must have been those boys. Perhaps they saw Snuggers and myself going to the gymnasium. Confound the luck!" Again he walked around the Hall, trying all of the doors, and when he had done so, called to Snuggers: "Have you a key?" "No, sir." "They have locked us out." "You don't say so! Who did it?" "I don't know." Josiah Crabtree pondered for a moment and then, walking back to the main door of the Hall, pulled the bell. Ordinarily the bell pealed loudly, but now no sound came forth, for the clapper had been bent back by one of the cadets. "Ha! they have disconnected the bell!" growled Josiah Crabtree. "The young scamps! I'll fix them for this! Just wait till I get inside." And then he began to thump on the door with his fist. "He's getting warmed up," whispered Andy, grinning broadly. "Never mind, it will keep his blood in circulation," answered Jack, and all of the cadets present snickered. "Are you going to open that door?" roared Josiah Crabtree, at last. "You young villains, open the door, I say!" "My, but he's getting complimentary, I must confess," said Dale. "Do you think the noise will wake up Mrs. Green?" asked one of the boys. "No, she sleeps like a cow," answered another. "Besides, her room is at the top of the building, and all of the upper doors are shut." "Open the door!" bellowed Josiah Crabtree. "Open the door!" echoed Peleg Snuggers. "Shall we answer?" asked Joe. "Not yet," returned Pepper. "Wait till he tries to break in. Then I've got another scheme to work on him." Finding he could do nothing at the door, Josiah Crabtree hurried to one of the windows. "Now, fellows, is your chance!" cried Stuffer. "A little water from one of the pitchers--" "Whoop!" came from Hogan. "It's a bath he's afther nadin', sure!" And up the stairs he bounded. Water pitcher in hand, he approached a window over the one the teacher was trying to open. Then down came the water on the teacher's head, wetting him thoroughly. "Ouch!" roared Josiah Crabtree, and began to dance around. "Oh, the water has gone down my back! It's ice-cold! Oh, I'll pay you for that!" "Thank you, no payment requoired!" said Hogan, softly, and closed the window again. "Emerald, you're a gem!" said Andy. "Won't old Crabtree feel fine with a wet back on such a bitter night as this?" "If you don't let me in I'll--I'll have the law on some of you!" yelled Josiah Crabtree. "This is--er--preposterous! Open the door!" "All the winders is tight shut," said Peleg Snuggers, who had been making an examination. "I must say, I dunno how we are to git in, Mr. Crabtree." "We must get in," fumed the teacher. "Why, my back feels like a--er--an icicle." "Sorry, sir." "If I stay out here I'll catch my death of cold." "I've got an idee, sir. I might get a ladder and put it up to the second-story winders." "Yes, yes. Get the ladder at once." The general utility man hurried off to the carriage house and presently came forth carrying a long ladder. "It's all I can do to lift it, sir," he said. "You'll have to help me raise it." "I can do that." "They've got a ladder!" whispered Jack. "They are going to try to get into one of the upper windows." "Come on upstairs," returned Pepper. "Say, has anybody got a blank cartridge left?" Several had, having saved them from the encampment, and they were passed over to Pepper, who placed one in his gun. Then Andy loaded up likewise. "Put on your caps, boys," said Pepper. "Pull 'em down over your eyes, so Crabtree can't recognize us in the dark." This was also done, and a score of students crowded into the room which the teacher and Snuggers expected to enter. They had scarcely done so when there came an unexpected crash. In trying to raise the heavy ladder both Josiah Crabtree and Snuggers had allowed it to slip, and the end came through the window sash, shattering the window panes into a thousand pieces. "Phew! That's the time they did it!" exclaimed Henry Lee. "There will be some glass to pay for when this adventure is over." "Well, that wasn't our fault," came from Harry Blossom. "They should have been more careful with the ladder." "Snuggers, have a care!" roared Josiah Crabtree. "You have broken the window." "Twasn't my fault!" howled the hired man. "Why didn't you keep her from slippin'?" "Hold the bottom of the ladder while I go up," ordered the teacher, ignoring the question. "Be careful now. I don't want to break my neck." "I'm a-holdin' tight enough," grumbled the hired man. With caution Josiah Crabtree started to come up the ladder. "Here comes the burglar, boys!" shouted Pepper, in an assumed voice. "He has broken the window. He deserves to be shot!" "Yes, yes! shoot the burglar!" came in a shout. "Shoot him!" "We'll teach 'em that they can't rob Putnam Hall even if Captain Putnam is away." "Stop!" screamed Josiah Crabtree. "I am no bur----" "Take careful aim," commanded Pepper, loudly. "All ready?" "Boys, I am no bur----" "All ready?" "Yes, yes!" "Boys, I command you to sto----" "Fire!" Bang! bang! bang! went three of the guns, the cadets shooting high up into the night air. With a wild scream of terror, Josiah Crabtree slid down the ladder, on top of Peleg Snuggers' head, and both sank to the ground. "There goes Mr. Burglar!" "Run away, you robber! If you don't we'll give you another dose!" "Oh, my poor head!" groaned Snuggers. "They are shooting at me!" moaned Crabtree, scrambling up. "They be takin' us for burglars!" went on the general utility man. "There are two of them," came from above. "Shoot them, fellows! They must be regular desperadoes to try such a game as this." "Let us run!" screamed Peleg Snuggers, and set off at his best pace, with Josiah Crabtree at his heels. Neither stopped until he was safe in the shelter of the barn. "There they go!" laughed Pepper. "I'll wager they won't come back in a hurry." "Shove the ladder off," commanded Jack, and this was done, the ladder falling out across the campus. "Of course they'll come back," came from Dave Kearney. "What shall we do next?" "Sure an' there is plenthy av water," suggested Hogan. "That's the ticket. Put the guns away, or we may arouse Mrs. Green after all, or somebody living at a distance." The guns were restored to the racks on the lower floor of the Hall, and this done, two students stationed themselves at each window upstairs, each with a pitcher of cold water. "Here is where somebody is going to get a fine ducking," said Bart Conners, with a merry twinkle in his eyes. Bart did not do much talking, but he was as full of mischief as the average cadet. Soon they saw Josiah Crabtree and Peleg Snuggers sneaking toward one of the lower windows. The hired man had an ax. "They surely mean business this trip," whispered Pepper. "Give it to them!" Down went one pitcherful of water after another, and in a trice both the teacher and the hired man were thoroughly drenched. They set up a howl, and Snuggers dropped the ax as he ran off with Crabtree by his side. "Haven't we had about enough?" questioned Jack, after a wild burst of laughter. "Let's go to bed, and be as mum as oysters," said Andy, and this was agreed to. All of the upper windows were closed, and then some of the cadets unlocked the door below that had been open, and fixed the door bell. "Now, then, not a word from anybody, on his life!" said Jack, and the word spread rapidly. Inside of five minutes every cadet was in bed, the lights were put out, and all became as silent as a tomb inside of Putnam Hall. CHAPTER XXII JOSIAH CRABTREE IS NONPLUSED "What's to do next, Mr. Crabtree?" "I--er--I don't know," stammered the enraged teacher. He gave a shiver. "I am wet to the skin!" "So am I," came from Peleg Snuggers. "I shall take cold." "An' I'll be after gitting the rheumatism." "I am half of a mind to invoke the aid of the law," went on Josiah Crabtree, stalking around the barn to keep himself warm. "This is preposterous, outrageous, extraordinary!" "It's a blessed shame, sir, that's wot it is." "It is strange that Mrs. Green was not aroused." "No 'tain't, sir--she's a heavy sleeper. She sleeps with an alarm clock on a chair beside her bed, to wake her up in the mornin'." "Snuggers, we must get into the school building in some manner." "Yes, sir." "Let us go around to the front once more." "I don't want another duckin', sir. It was terribul, that was!" And the general utility man shivered. "Perhaps we can get under the shelter of the doorway." They left the barn once more, and sneaking around the campus, came at last to the front of the hall. "Why, the door's on a crack!" ejaculated the hired man. "I thought it was locked!" "So it was locked!" returned Josiah Crabtree. "Can it be possible that the rascals have left the building?" "Oh, Mr. Crabtree, perhaps they are after us with them guns!" "I--I don't think so. Anyway, let us get inside. Then we can lock the door on them. Some of the cadets must have gone crazy!" The two passed into the Hall, and the teacher lost no time in locking and bolting the door. All was pitch-dark, and Josiah Crabtree scarcely knew what to do next. "I don't see nuthin'," was Peleg Snuggers' comment. "It is not to be expected without a light," answered the teacher, sarcastically. "Have you a match?" "Yes, sir." "Then light up, and I'll try to get to the bottom of this piece of villainy." "Are you certain we ain't in danger o' bein' shot?" queried the hired man. "Light up, I tell you!" thundered the teacher. The hallway was soon a blaze of lights. Nothing appeared to be out of its place, and Josiah Crabtree passed from one classroom to the next, and then to the messroom, the kitchen, and to Captain Putnam's private office. "They have gone!" murmured Snuggers, and breathed a sigh of relief. "They are either outside or upstairs," answered Josiah Crabtree. "Come, we will go up." "Hadn't you better get a club--or somethin'?" "I'll take this," answered the teacher, and brought forth a heavy ruler. Then he gave the hired man a cane, and both mounted to the second floor of the Hall. Here all was as dark as it had been below, and again Snuggers was called on to light up. Without further hesitation Josiah Crabtree pushed open the door of Dormitory No. 1. A glance inside showed him all of the cadets in bed, apparently fast asleep. He scratched his head in amazement. "Am I dreaming, or is this a trick?" he murmured. "Are the rascals there?" queried Peleg Snuggers. "These--er--cadets seem to be asleep." "Asleep!" "Yes, let us look in the next dormitory," said Crabtree. This was done, and then the other sleeping rooms were visited. Not a bed was found vacant, and all of the boys looked as if they were sleeping soundly. "Snuggers, am I awake?" demanded the teacher. "I reckon you are, sir. I know I ain't asleep--an' I ain't dry nuther." "But what do you make of this?" "I dunno, unless they be a-playin' off on you, sir." "Did you recognize any of those who--er--attacked us?" "No, sir." "But we were attacked?" "Yes, sir." "We were doused with water?" "Yes, sir--very cold water at that." "And we were fired upon?" "Yes, sir--I heard the bullets whistle past our heads, sir," added the hired man, drawing on his imagination. "And yet all of these cadets are asleep--or pretend to be." "It's a mystery, sir, that's wot it is, sir. But what's to do?" and the general utility man scratched his head. For once in his life Josiah Crabtree was nonplused. He rubbed his chin and cleared his throat several times. "If I thought they were playing off on me----" he began. "They couldn't have all been in it, sir," interrupted Snuggers. "I don't know about that. But that's the point--I do not know which to accuse." "Well, what do you want me to do?" "I--er--I don't know." "Hadn't we better change our clothes an' go to bed?" "You may change your clothes, and I'll do the same. But I am going to investigate further before I retire for the night." The pair separated, and Peleg Snuggers lost no time in getting to his room. Josiah Crabtree stalked to his own apartment and there proceeded to don dry clothing. The head teacher was furious, but the more he mused over the problem before him, the more was he perplexed. He could not call all of the boys to account, and, to tell the truth, he was just a bit afraid of the whole school. With Captain Putnam and George Strong absent, there was no telling what the pupils might do. "I don't want to get shot, or something like that," he told himself. "Perhaps I had better wait until the captain gets back." "Do you want me again?" came presently from Peleg Snuggers, from outside the door. "No, you can go to bed. But sleep with one ear open, in case there are more disturbances." "Yes, sir; good-night, sir," and the general utility man tiptoed away. "Don't catch me a-gittin' up again to-night," he muttered to himself. "One sech duckin' is enough fer me." "I fancy he has given up the battle," said Pepper to his chums, after a long spell of silence. "He is afraid of us." came from Andy. "Those shots frightened him." "I'll wager we hear something in the morning," put in Jack. "We ought to bind every fellow to absolute secrecy." "Let's do it!" cried Pepper. "We can visit every dormitory." This plan was agreed to, and soon a dozen cadets were making the rounds, and each student was made to promise on his honor not to say a word concerning the doings of the night. "Let me catch you opening your trap and I'll make it warm for you," said Jack to Mumps, and the sneak promised faithfully to keep mum. In the morning the cadets were on hand as usual, and they came down to roll call as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Josiah Crabtree was on hand, looking as dark as a thunder cloud. "Phew, but his face is enough to sour the milk!" whispered Andy. "Take care, he is watching us," returned Pepper, and then the chums became silent. Nothing was said during breakfast, and it was not until the school was assembled for the first session of the day that Josiah Crabtree opened up upon them. "Last night a most disgraceful thing happened at this academy," he began. "A number of headstrong pupils locked me out of this building, and attacked me with their guns. I have some information concerning this affair, but I am bound to get at all the details. I, therefore, demand that each pupil tell all he knows of the affair. I shall ask each pupil by roll order. Dale Blackmore, what have you to say?" "Nothing, sir," answered Dale, rising. "Don't you know anything of this affair?" "I have nothing to say," returned the cadet, stiffly. "Um! Sit down. Harry Blossom." "I have nothing to say, sir," answered Harry, as he arose. "You know nothing?" "I have nothing to say." "Bart Conners!" "I have nothing to say, Mr. Crabtree," answered the captain of Company B. "Augustus Coulter!" As Coulter arose, Jack, Pepper, Andy, and a number of others eyed him sharply. "I--er--I don't know anything much," stammered Dan Baxter's crony. "I was--er--very sleepy last night. I heard some noise, but I didn't pay any attention." "Really?" returned the teacher, sarcastically. "You must have slept very sound, indeed, not to have heard the gun-shots." "That wasn't so bad for Coulter," whispered Jack to Pepper. One after another the pupils were questioned, but all had nothing to say. Even Mumps said "Nothing to say!" in a voice that was as stiff as starch. "He's afraid of his life," whispered Andy. "I told him he'd be treated to an icy bath if he said two words." "School will come to order!" thundered Josiah Crabtree, after the name of the last cadet had been called out. "I shall inquire into this later on. We will now take up our studies for the day." "He's beaten!" said Jack, and the young major spoke the truth. Try his best Josiah Crabtree could not get at the bottom of the mystery, and at last he had to give it up, for fear of being ridiculed by Captain Putnam and George Strong. CHAPTER XXIII BURIED UNDER THE SNOW One morning the cadets of Putnam Hall awoke to find the ground covered with snow. The storm had started in about midnight, and was still raging, the wind sending the flakes whirling in all directions. "Hurrah for the snow!" shouted Andy, as he rushed to one of the windows to look out. "Pep, this is glorious!" "Fine!" came from the Imp. "Oh, but won't we have a dandy time snowballing each other!" "And building a snow house," put in Stuffer. "I love to build a snow house, and after it's all done, we can put benches inside, and a little table, and have----" "Something to eat," interrupted Jack. "Wasn't you going to say that, Stuffer?" "Yes, but--but how did you guess it?" "Oh, I've got a way of knowing things," returned the young major. "But this is grand and no mistake. Somehow, a good old snowstorm always makes me feel jolly." Pepper was at the window, and opening it a few inches he brought in a handful of snow. Gazing around he saw that Henry Lee was still sleeping peacefully. "Hush!" he whispered, and going up to Henry laid the soft snow directly over his mouth. "Hi, wake up!" he shouted. Henry started, and opened his eyes. Then he started to speak, when some of the snow dropped into his mouth, and he commenced to splutter. "Wha--what--who--gug--gug--who put snow in my mouth?" he gasped, at last. "Wake up, Henry!" sang out Pepper. "Don't you see how it's snowing?" "Oh, well, you needn't try to fill me up with it, Pep." "Get up, you're missing it." Slowly Henry Lee arose and started to dress himself. Then Pepper turned away. Like a flash Henry ran to a window, got some snow, and whacked it on Pepper's neck, allowing some to run down the Imp's backbone. "Great mackerels!" howled Pepper. "Let up! I'll turn into an icicle!" And he began to dance around. "It's all right--you don't want to miss the benefits of the storm," said Henry, calmly. The cadets were soon below, and snowballs flew fast and furious across the campus. All of the boys were happy, and all too soon they had to go in to breakfast and then take up their studies. "I wish old Crabtree would come outside during recess," murmured Pepper to Jack. "Maybe we wouldn't do a thing to him, eh?" "He'll know better than to show himself," answered Jack, and he was right, the teacher kept indoors all day. But George Strong came out, and took a snowballing in good part. He even threw a few balls himself, showing that his aim was as good as any of the boys. "He's the kind of a teacher to have," was Andy's comment. "A fellow can't help but take to him." The snow continued all of that day, and by nightfall was nearly a foot deep. It was very blustery, and in some spots the drifts reached up to one's head. "This will make traveling bad," said Jack, and he was right. On the roads in that vicinity horses with their turnouts could scarcely get through. Poor Peleg Snuggers came in for his full share of the snowballing. As soon as the general utility man appeared, he was bombarded from all sides, and had to run for his life. "Let up, please let up!" he bawled. "You ain't fer killin' an old man, be you?" "The snow will do you good, Peleg. It will make you grow," sang out Pepper. "It will make you handsome," put in Dave Kearney. "You want to be handsome, don't you, Peleg?" "It will teach you how to dance," came from Harry Blossom. "See, he is dancing already." And Peleg was dancing, with pain, for a big snowball had just landed in his left ear. "Oh, dear, I knowed it!" he groaned. "The minit the snow comes, there ain't no rest fer me. I'm goin' to resign!" And then he rushed for the barn. On the following day the sun shone brightly, and this caused the snow to pack down. A dozen of the boys set to work to build a snow house and a fort. "This is going to be the biggest house yet," announced Pepper. And he and his chums worked with a will. They kept at it during all of their spare time for two days, and when done the top of the house was fifteen feet high. "This is a regular snow palace," cried Andy. "Let us stick a flag on the top." "I don't see how you are going to get it up there," returned Jack. "If you climb up, now the windows are cut out, you'll cave in the roof." "I'll be careful," said Andy, and ran off to get a small flag which they had had on their tent during the brief encampment. In the meantime, Pepper and Harry Blossom were inside of the snow house, leveling off the flooring with their shovels. Jack went off to get a bench, and Dale to get a stool. Having procured his flag, Andy crawled up on the top of the house with care and placed it in position. Then he came down and went around to the doorway. "Our colors are up," he announced. "Say, it's all right in here," he added, looking around. "A fellow could live in here if he had to." "Why not, since the Esquimaux live in snow huts," returned Harry. "It might prove pretty cold, unless a fellow could start up a fire." While the friends were talking, Dan Baxter came up, accompanied by Paxton and Coulter. "Hullo, look at the snow house!" exclaimed the bully. "Let us make one." "I guess we can make a better one than this," growled Paxton. "Say, let us cave it in on 'em," whispered Coulter. "All right," answered Baxter, eagerly. "How shall we do it?" "Let's all run up to the top. Come on!" Andy had gone into the house, to aid Pepper and Harry, and nobody was near. Looking around, to make sure they were not observed, Baxter, Paxton, and Coulter ran up on the snow house and began to jump up and down. There came a crack, several others, and then with scarcely a sound the top of the snow house went down, burying the boys above up to their knees. "Get out of this!" exclaimed Baxter, and pulled himself free, followed by his cronies. Soon they were clear of the snow and running across the campus. It was at that moment that Jack re-appeared, followed by Dale. "Hullo, the house has caved in!" ejaculated the young major. "Somebody is under the snow," came from Dale. "Don't you see the end of that shovel moving?" "Whoever is in there will be smothered to death, if we don't get him out," went on Jack. "Come, get the snow out of the way as fast as you can." The pair set to work, and in a moment more several other cadets were helping them. Then somebody ran off and called George Strong, who came to the spot on the double-quick. "Yes, yes, we must get them out at once," said the assistant teacher. "It doesn't take much to smother a person under the snow. Work lively, boys!" They did work lively, throwing the snow on all sides. The teacher worked with them. "Look out that you don't hurt somebody with your shovels," said Jack, cautiously. Soon he caught sight of a foot and then a leg. He began to pull, and George Strong aided him, and up came Harry Blossom, almost black in the face. "Oh!" gasped the cadet. "Who is under there?" demanded George Strong. "Andy Snow and Pepper Ditmore," answered Harry. "Oh, get them out if you can! If you don't, they'll surely be smothered to death!" "Yes, we must get them out," came from Jack. "Come on--work harder than ever!" CHAPTER XXIV A CHALLENGE ACCEPTED It was soon noised around the Hall that two of the cadets had been buried alive in the snow, and the whole school gathered around the collapsed snow house, and as many went to work to dig out Pepper and Andy as could get close enough. On the outside of the crowd stood Baxter, Paxton, and Coulter, and the face of each was pale and full of fear. "I--I didn't think it was going to end this way," muttered Coulter, hoarsely. "Hush!" returned the bully, fiercely. "Do you want to be found out?" "That's it--mum's the word," put in Paxton. "If we are found out, it may mean our dismissal from the school." "But if one or the other is dead----" Coulter could not finish the sentence. Baxter clapped a hand over his mouth. "Shut up, I say!" he cried. "Not a word more." The workers had now gotten almost to the bottom of the snow house. Presently they uncovered the form of Pepper. Close beside him lay Andy. Both were partly unconscious. "Give them air!" ordered George Strong. "Get back, boys!" And then the two sufferers were laid out on the snow and several went to work to revive them. "Oh, I hope they get over it!" murmured Jack. He could not bear to think of anything serious happening to his chums. For several minutes all were in doubt. Then Pepper began to move, and Andy gave a faint gasp. "They are reviving!" "Thank Heaven for that!" murmured Jack. A little later the two sufferers sat up and stared around them. "How do you feel, Pepper?" asked Dale. "I--I don't know. The--the house came down on our heads, didn't it?" "Yes." "I remember now," came from Andy. "It came down awful sudden like, too." "Do you feel anyway ill, boys?" questioned George Strong, kindly. "I--I'm weak in the knees," answered Pepper, and Andy said the same. "We'll carry them into the Hall," said Jack, and soon the two sufferers were made comfortable indoors. Andy soon declared he felt as well as ever. "How did the snow house come to cave in?" questioned Jack, after the excitement had somewhat subsided. "I give it up," answered Andy. "The roof came down on us without warning." "Some fellows climbed up on the snow house," put in Bart Conners. "Climbed up on it?" queried Jack. "Yes, three fellows. I saw it go down with them. Then the three fellows ran away as fast as they could go." "Who were those three fellows?" questioned Andy. "I can't tell you. I had been down to the lake looking to see if there was any clear ice for skating. I was too far off to recognize them." "Humph! that explains it," murmured the young major. "The snow house was caved in on purpose." "I'd like to know who would be so mean!" exclaimed Andy. "Those chaps must have known that we were inside." "Perhaps they didn't think it would be anything serious," came from Stuffer, who was near. "Maybe they got scared after it went down, and then they ran away." The news that three cadets had caved in the snow house spread, and before the day was over Captain Putnam did his best to locate the offenders. But Baxter, Paxton, and Coulter said nothing, and they were not exposed. "This was a mean and serious trick to play," said the captain, on addressing the scholars. "Had it not been for the prompt work done to rescue those under the snow, one or more lives might have been lost. I wish to hear of no more such actions at Putnam Hall. If I learn who is responsible I shall punish that party severely." "Phew! we had a narrow escape," said Baxter, when he and his cronies were safe in their dormitory. "Bart Conners saw us from the lake shore." "Yes, but he didn't recognize us," added Coulter. "I hope no one else saw us," said Paxton. "I reckon we are safe. But we want to stop talking of it, or somebody may overhear us," said the bully; and there the subject was dropped. On the following day the boys had a big snow fight. Company A went into the snow fort to defend it, while Company B did its best to capture the stronghold. Andy and Pepper did not take part, as Captain Putnam thought it best for them to keep quiet. But the other lads went at the fight with a will, and the contest lasted for three hours, when the fort capitulated. During the fight Stuffer was hit a heavy blow in the ear, and Dan Baxter got a black eye from a "soaker." "I wish I knew who threw that soaker!" howled the bully of Putnam Hall. "I'd give him something, and don't you forget it!" "I think Jack Ruddy threw it," said Mumps, although he had no reason for such a statement. During the fort fight Jack and Baxter had had something of a row, and the bully was willing enough to believe what the sneak said. When Jack went down to the gymnasium after the fight was over, the bully followed him. "You think you're smart to hit me with a soaker," he said harshly. "For two pins I'd knock you down." Jack was angry, too, and without answering he took two pins from his coat lapel and held them out. "Do you mean that?" blustered the bully. He had not expected to have his challenge accepted thus quickly. "I do," was Jack's cool answer. "You are itching for a thrashing, Baxter, and if you don't shut up pretty quick you'll get it." "A fight! A fight!" cried several cadets, and the news spread like wildfire that the young major was going to fight the bully of Putnam Hall. "Baxter is too heavy for Major Ruddy," said one. "Jack will be knocked out clean and clear." "I don't know about that. Jack can do some pretty good bag-punching," said another, which was true. "Don't fight here, Jack," whispered Dale, who was present. "You are sure to be found out, and then there will be a big row. Baxter wouldn't like anything better than to see you lose your majorship." "But I am not going to take his insults, Dale," returned Jack. "Then fight some other place. I know a good spot. Down back of the bathing houses. There is a clear space there." "Are you going to fight?" blustered Baxter, doubling up his fists. "If you wish to, Baxter." "But not here," broke in Dale. "Come on back of the bathing houses." "Yes, yes, that's a good spot!" came from several. "Come on!" And they hurried from the gymnasium. "I'd just as soon fight here," said the bully. "Because you have nothing to lose by being found out," retorted Dale. "Come on--unless you are afraid." And he led Jack out of the building. "I won't----" began Baxter. "Don't be a quitter, Baxter!" cried several. "Come on--unless you really are afraid." "I'm afraid of nobody in this school!" roared Baxter. "I'll fight him here or anywhere he wants. Just you see me do him up in no time!" "Talk is cheap," said Stuffer, who had come up. "After Jack is down and out I'll believe you, not before." The crowd was soon at a convenient spot behind the bathing houses. Here the wind had swept the snow from the ground. The word had circulated thoroughly, and fully fifty cadets were assembled to see the fight. "Watch him closely, Jack!" whispered Andy. "He may try to play you foul." "I'll be on my guard," answered the young major. Each of the contestants took off his coat, and likewise his collar. Then they faced each other; and the all-important fight was on. CHAPTER XXV HOW THE FIGHT ENDED It must be admitted that Jack was a little in doubt as to the outcome of the fight before him. Dan Baxter was large, and was something of a boxer and an athlete. In fact, he could fight better than he could learn his lessons. "I've got to go at him from the start, otherwise he may wear me out," the young major told himself. With clenched fists the two cadets circled around, each watching for a chance to deliver a blow. Those watching the contest formed a large circle, and numerous were the words of advice given. "Land him a good one, Jack!" "Paste him hard, Dan!" Suddenly Baxter's fist shot out and landed on Jack's breast, sending the young major back a step or two. Then Jack sent in a blow on the bully's arm. Next came several hits which were of small consequence. "Give it to him good, Jack," came from Andy. "Don't fool." "How do you like that?" cried the bully, and hit Jack a stinging blow in the cheek. It was just what was needed to wake the young major up. All of his real fighting blood leaped to the surface, and an instant later he sent out his fist on the bully's nose. Then, before Baxter could recover, he hit out once more, and struck Baxter on the chin, lifting him from his feet and sending him on his back in the snow. "Hurrah! Jack has knocked Baxter down!" "Time!" called out Paxton, and rushed to his crony's assistance. He caught the bully by the arm and dragged him to his feet. "Are you much hurt?" he demanded. "What did--did he hi-hit me with?" stammered the fallen one. "With his fist," answered Dale. "I reckon it was hard enough, wasn't it?" "He struck me with something else--a stone," cried the bully. "No, I didn't," ejaculated Jack. He held up his open hands. "I haven't a thing but my fingers and thumbs." Again the pair faced each other. Baxter was in a rage, and after a few light passes he rushed in and clinched. Around and around the ring went the two cadets, each trying to get the better of the other. "Break away!" was the cry. "Break away!" But neither Jack nor Baxter paid attention. Baxter had Jack bent far over and was hitting him on the neck. "That's not fair!" cried Andy, but scarcely had he spoken when Jack ducked still lower, and like a flash Baxter was raised in the air and thrown over the young major's back. He came down with a thud, and before he could get up Jack was on top of him. "Do you give in, Baxter?" he demanded. "I--er--I----" "Get off of him!" cried Paxton. "That's no fair way to fight. Let him up." "I'll let him up," came from Jack, and he leaped up and away. Baxter sat up, stared around, and arose slowly to his feet. "Come on!" cried the young major. "Unless you have had enough." "Oh, I'm all right," was the reply. "I'll fix you yet; see if I don't." Once more the pair went at it, hammer and tongs. Blows flew thick and fast, but to the majority of the boys it was easily to be seen that Jack was getting the better of it. Baxter was almost winded, and stood up with difficulty. He felt that another blow or two would make him fall. Watching his chance, he tipped a wink to Paxton. "Cheese it! Here comes one of the teachers!" called out Paxton. "Run for it unless you want to be caught." The cry was taken up on all sides, even though nobody saw the teacher. At once Dan Baxter stepped back and reached for his collar and coat. "I'll fix you another time, Jack Ruddy," he muttered, and hurried away before the young major could reply. Slipping on his own coat and adjusting his collar, Jack gazed around and then, with his chums, walked toward the gymnasium. "That was a fake, I believe," said he. "I don't see anybody." "Paxton gave the alarm," came from Dale. "Baxter winked at him--I saw him do it," said Stuffer. "I guess he wanted to stop. He was pretty dizzy. Another blow or two would have finished him." "Never mind, I'll finish him some other time," answered Jack. "He won't behave himself until he is well whipped." Baxter did not stop until he reached his dormitory. He sank into a chair, and, later on, bathed his swollen face and eyes. "He's a pretty hard fighter," said Paxton. "Pooh! I am not afraid of him, Nick," growled the bully. "The truth is I--I shouldn't have tried to fight to-day," he went on, lamely. "I'm not feeling well. My--er--my stomach is all out of order." "I knew there must be something the matter," said Paxton, sympathetically. "You didn't hit out like I expected." "Wait till I'm myself; I'll lay him out cold," said the bully, boastingly. But for the present he was content to keep out of Jack's sight, and in public he said little about the contest. Behind it all he was frightened. "I've got to be careful how I go at him," he told himself. "He knows how to handle his fists better than I thought." After the fight matters remained quiet for some time to come. A brisk wind cleared some of the snow from the lake, and the cadets spent a large portion of their off time in skating. Some of the cadets built themselves ice-boats, and had not a little fun in sailing up and down the lake shore. One ice-boat was the property of Dale and Harry Blossom, and on an afternoon Coulter, Paxton, and Mumps made off with the craft, without asking permission to use it. "That is what I call nerve!" Dale declared, when he heard the news. "Just wait till they get back! I'll give them a piece of my mind!" "And so will I!" added Harry. "Our friends can use the ice-boat if they wish, but not such fellows as Paxton, Coulter, and Mumps." The cadets who had gone off with the ice-boat did not know much about running such a craft, although Mumps knew all about ordinary sailing boats, having come from the Hudson River, as previously stated. The wind carried the trio out of sight of the Hall, and they sat down to enjoy themselves. "This is all right!" said Coulter, enthusiastically. "Nick, we ought to build a boat of our own." "Too much labor," grumbled Paxton. "What's the use, when you can get someone else's craft for nothing?" And he laughed. "They'll be angry when they hear how we went off," came from Mumps. "Perhaps, but I don't think they'll do anything." Sailing with the wind was easy enough, and soon several miles were covered. "We had better turn around," said the sneak of the school. "Remember, it won't be near so easy tacking back." "Oh, don't turn back yet," said Paxton. "It's fine to spin along. Let her go!" And on they went for another mile. "Hi! hi!" shouted Coulter, suddenly. "Look ahead! What's that?" "It's open water!" gasped Mumps. "Stop her! Lower the sail! We'll be drowned!" As speedily as possible they lowered the sail of the ice-boat. But the momentum carried them closer and closer to the water, and at last they had to jump out on the ice to try to save themselves. All rolled over and over. "Help! I'll drown!" shrieked Mumps, when he found himself in the water. He floundered around, and so did his companions. Then Paxton stood up. "Stand up--it's not deep," he called out, and they stood up and found the water only up to their waists. The ice-boat lay near, floating around on its side. Not far off was the bank of the lake. "Birr! how cold!" came from Coulter. "Don't sa--say a wo--word!" chattered Mumps. "I--I--can--can't get my br--br--breath!" "Haul the ice-boat in," came from Paxton, and in disgust they brought the craft to shore. Here they huddled close together, shivering from head to feet. "I--I wi--wish we ha--had--hadn't ta--ta--ta--taken the con--confounded bo--boat!" chattered Mumps. "Oh, this is dreadful! I'll be frozen stiff in another minute!" "How are we to get back?" questioned Coulter. "If we sail back we'll be frozen to death before we re--reach th--the Hall." They stared at each other in dismay. They were in a pickle truly, and did not know how to help themselves. CHAPTER XXVI FRIENDS IN NEED While the boys were staring around helplessly, and shaking from head to feet from the cold, Coulter espied another ice-boat coming along the lake shore. "Let us stop those chaps!" he called. "Come on! Run!" The others needed no second bidding. Anything was better than standing still, and they set off at a dog-trot, and soon came up to the ice-boat. It was a craft belonging to Bart Conners and some of his intimates. "Stop! Stop!" yelled Coulter, Paxton, and Mumps. "Stop! There is open water ahead!" These cries were heard, and without hesitation Bart Conners turned his craft into shore, allowing it to slide deep into a snowdrift. "Oh, pshaw! Why didn't we think to run our boat ashore?" muttered Coulter. Such a simple move had never entered the heads of the ill-fated trio. "What's the matter with you fellows?" demanded Bart Conners. "Why, you look frozen to death!" "W--we are--al--almost!" gasped Paxton. "Ca--can't you help us?" "Did your boat go into the water?" "Yes." "Here's a blanket, we've been using it for a seat," sang out a cadet in Conners' crowd. "Wrap yourself in that." "Here's my overcoat, Mumps," said another. "I've got my sweater on and don't need it." "Coulter, you can take my overcoat," came from Bart Conners. The three wet cadets were willing enough to don the things handed out to them. But even with these dry coverings all were intensely chilled. "Jump on and we'll take you back to the Hall as fast as we can," said Conners. "It's dreadful to take a plunge in the lake in such weather as this." "Who lent you the ice-boat?" asked a cadet in the crowd. "Oh--we--er--we only thought we'd have a bit of fun," stammered Mumps. "Phew! if you took that boat without permission, I guess you got paid for it," was Bart's comment. The ice-boat was turned back, and as speedily as it could be done, they brought the craft up to the Putnam Hall landing. Here they met Dale and Harry. "What do you fellows mean by running off with our ice-boat?" demanded Dale. "It was a mean piece of business," put in Harry. "You ought to be pounded good for it!" "Don't scold them now," said Bart. "They've been punished enough. They got a ducking in the ice-cold water." "Oh!" "The ice-boat ran into the open water, and they might have been drowned, only the water wasn't deep enough," put in another cadet. "Where is the ice-boat now?" questioned Dale. "In the open water near shore. I guess you can pull her in by throwing a line over her," answered Bart. Like so many half-drowned rats, Paxton, Coulter, and Mumps sneaked into the Hall, and up to their rooms. The news soon circulated that they had fallen into the lake, and Captain Putnam ordered them to bed, and had Mrs. Green prepare some hot tea for them. In the meantime Dale and Harry took a ride on Bart's ice-boat, and soon succeeded in hauling the overturned craft to the firm ice once more. The ice-boat was not damaged, and a little while later Dale and Harry were sailing her as before. "I hope that teaches those fellows a lesson to leave our things alone," said Dale, and it did teach Coulter, Paxton, and Mumps a lesson, at least as far as the ice-boat was concerned. Following the adventure just narrated, came a series of heavy snow-storms, which are remembered even to this day at Putnam Hall. They lasted over the holidays, and many boys who had planned to visit their homes at Christmas had to forego that pleasure. One party that left got stalled on the cars just outside of Ithaca, and remained in the snowdrifts for twenty-four hours. Another party got as far as Cedarville, and after remaining there one whole day returned to the Hall. That the cadets might not feel too blue because they were snowed in, Captain Putnam allowed them to do pretty much as they pleased during Christmas week. A fine turkey dinner was served on Christmas and on New Year's day, and the boys had a great deal of sport in the Hall and in the gymnasium. Captain Putnam allowed them to have some private theatricals, and Jack, Pepper, Andy, Dale, and several others gave a two-act drama entitled "The Boy from the Country." Andy was the country boy who comes to the city to seek his fortune, and Dale played the part of an old lady who knows the boy's rich uncle. The drama was full of fun, and was well received. Before the drama came a banjo solo by one of the cadets, and then a duet by two of the cadets who could sing remarkably well. While the singing was going on, Pepper noticed Dan Baxter sneaking behind the stage, and pointed him out to Dave Kearney. "I think he is up to mischief," he said. "I've got to go on in the next dialogue. Won't you watch him?" "Sure I will," answered Dave, and hurried after Baxter. He was in time to see the bully throw something on the floor, just at the places where the actors and singers made their entrances and exits. "Grease!" murmured Dave Kearney, after getting down and feeling of the stuff with his fingers. "How mean! The boys would look fine, sprawling all over the stage." As soon as he had greased the floor Dan Baxter slipped back to his seat in the hall. "Be careful," said Dave, running around to those who were waiting to perform. "Careful of what?" demanded several. "Of grease on the floor. If you're not, you'll go sliding from one side of the stage to the other." "How did the grease get there?" asked Jack. "Dan Baxter put it there--I saw him do it." "Say, he ought to be mobbed!" cried Andy. "What a dirty trick!" came from another student. "We ought to pay him back for that." "Let us pay him back to-night," suggested Stuffer. So it was agreed, and it was also settled that nobody should say a word about the grease until the proper time came. The performance went on, each performer taking good care not to get too much grease on his soles, and stepping out with caution. At last the show was over, and the final curtain went down amid great applause and cheering. "That was as good as a professional show," declared Joe Nelson. "Sure an' it was betther nor some professional shows," put in Hogan. "Wanct I wint to a show in the country--a travelin' troupe 'twas--an' they couldn't act fer a sour apple. The b'ys got ancient eggs, an' the stage was a soight to see afther thim players got out av town!" The performance had lasted until half-past ten, and as soon as it was over the majority of the cadets retired to their dormitories. With the crowd went Dan Baxter, much disgusted that his joke had not turned out as he had anticipated. "I suppose one of them found out about the grease, and he told the rest," was the way he reasoned. "Hang the luck anyway! I don't seem to be able to get square with that crowd, no matter what I do!" Baxter was tired, and it was not long before he was in the land of dreams. How long he slept he knew not, but of a sudden he awoke, to find a handkerchief tied across his mouth. Then his arms were tied to his sides, his feet were fastened, and he was raised up out of bed by six persons and carried from the dormitory. He was not greatly frightened, because he thought some of the others in the dormitory were playing a joke on him. He tried to see the faces of the cadets, but could not, for each of the party had a big paper bag thrust over his head, with two holes in front, for seeing purposes. Baxter was carried downstairs to the lower floor of the Hall. Then the party made its way to a side door. "Throw a blanket over him, fellows," said one person, and then the bully was almost smothered. The next instant he found himself out in the snow and being carried toward the gymnasium. The building was soon reached and the door opened. Then the whole party went inside, and a lantern was lit. "Now set the prisoner up, and we will decide his fate," said one of the masked cadets, and then the bully was placed on an empty box. His heart sank within him, for he felt that he was not among friends, but among those who had good cause to be his enemies. CHAPTER XXVII THE PUNISHMENT OF A BULLY "Look here, what do you intend to do with me?" asked Dan Baxter, as soon as he could speak. "Punish you!" came from all of the masked boys. "What for?" "For many things." "I don't know what I have done." "You have tried to bully us," said one. "You greased the stage at our entertainment," answered another. "You are always quarreling with us," put in a third. "You want to run things to suit yourself," came from a fourth. "You get Mumps to play the sneak," added a fifth. "I--I--don't!" cried the bully, and began to turn pale. "I want you to let me go. It's cold here!" "You'll feel warm enough before we get through with you," answered one of the masked cadets, meaningly. "If you--you hurt me, I'll--I'll----" "Don't threaten us, Baxter. If you do, we'll treat you so much worse." "It's a mean shame!" "Stay where you are," said the leader of the masked cadets--it was Jack. "If you move, it will be at the peril of your life!" After that the crowd withdrew to a corner, leaving Baxter alone. The bully wanted to escape, but he was afraid to try it. The masked cadets held a consultation lasting several minutes. "Just the thing!" was the cry. "Just the thing!" "Now what do they intend to do?" asked the bully of himself. "Something awful, I'm sure!" "Baxter, we have decided on your fate," said one of the masked boys. It was Pepper, but he disguised his voice well. "What are you going to do?" "We are going to brand you first and then march you out into the country, so that you can't find your way back to Putnam Hall." "Brand me! March me away! Don't you dare to do it!" "Blindfold him first, fellows!" came from Andy, and the bully's eyes were quickly bound tight with a handkerchief. "Now heat up that iron," came loudly from one of the masked cadets. "I think that a B on his forehead will look beautiful." "What are you going to--to--put a B on me for?" asked Baxter, with a shiver. "B stands for Bully, and that is what you are, Dan Baxter. Hurry up with that iron, boys." "No! No!" "The iron is getting hot!" came from Dale. He had stepped to one of the windows and brought in a sharp-pointed icicle. "Nos. 3, 4, 6, and 7 will hold him, while Nos. 1 and 2 perform the operation. No. 5 can remain on guard." "If you brand me, I'll--I'll----" began the bully. "Silence! If you dare to cry out, we'll brand you on the cheeks as well as the forehead." "I won't stand it!" roared the bully and started to get from the gymnasium, bound as he was. But they tripped him up with ease, and as he went headlong, one cadet sat on his breast and another on his legs, rendering him helpless. "Now then, the iron!" called out Stuffer. "Brand him well." The icicle was brought forward, and at the same time one of the boys cut a little lock of hair from his head and lit a match. Then the icicle was run over Baxter's forehead in the form of the letter B. At the same time the lock of hair was lit and the smell of the burning hair was allowed to reach the bully's nose. "Oh! Oh!" yelled Baxter, squirming greatly. "Let up! Don't burn me! Oh, I'll be marked for life! Oh, this is outrageous! Don't, I beg of you! Please let me go! I'll--I'll do anything if you'll only let up on me!" "Let up now," whispered Jack. "He may get a fit! He is almost scared out of his life!" "Now then, the blanket and the old boots," came from Andy, and the victim of the hazing was provided with a big pair of old rubber boots and a heavy horse blanket. "What's this for?" asked the bully. "For your long tramp into the country," was the answer. "I don't want to go out into the country this cold night! Let me go, please do!" "It's too late to beg, Baxter. You have been a bad boy, and you must take your medicine." "I'll have the law on you!" In a minute more the gymnasium door was opened and the victim was marched outside. He was well blindfolded, so that he could not see where he was going. The masked cadets led him into the woods, around the boathouse, and then made half a dozen turns, so that Baxter was completely bewildered. "Here's the old shanty," said Jack, in a loud voice, when they came to a halt. "Put him into the garret and leave him." And then Baxter was marched into the carriage house of Putnam Hall and made to mount the ladder to the loft. Here he was tied to a post, but in such a loose fashion that he could get free with ease. "Now, Baxter, listen," said Jack, still in an assumed voice. "You are probably four miles from Putnam Hall. Don't try to get away, or you may get into more trouble. To-morrow night we'll come back and finish our job." "I--I can't stay here so long. It's cold and I--I ain't got anything to eat." "Well, make the best of it," was the cry, and then the masked cadets scampered off, and a few minutes later were safe in their dormitories in the Hall. With a sinking heart Dan Baxter listened to them depart, and then gave a deep groan. "I--I can't stand this!" he muttered to himself. "It's dreadful! And to think they branded me, too. What will Paxton and the others say!" The loft was not a particularly cold place, for the windows were tightly closed. Waiting to make sure that the crowd had gone, he pulled himself free from his bonds. When he placed his hand to his forehead he could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses. He could feel nothing of the branding--his forehead was not sore--it did not hurt! What could it mean? "They must have tricked me!" he told himself. "What a fool I was to raise such a howl! How they'll laugh at me for it! But it did feel just as if I was being burnt!" All was pitch-dark around him, for the masked cadets had taken the lantern with them. He stepped forward and ran into a low beam, giving his forehead a severe bump. "Ouch! Nothing fake about that!" he muttered, dancing around. "I'll have to be careful, or I'll break my neck. Wonder how far I am from the Hall and what sort of a place this can be?" He felt around and grasped some old spider webs. "Some half tumbled down shanty, I suppose. Perhaps I'd better make myself at home until morning," and he crouched down and hid himself in the old horse blanket. He remained awake half the night, finally falling off into a troubled doze. When Baxter awoke it was early morning and still dark. He felt cold from head to feet and gave a shiver. "I'd give five dollars to be back at the Hall," he muttered to himself. "Wonder if I can walk the distance before it gets too light? If any person sees me on the road with the rubber boots and this horse blanket they'll take me for a lunatic." He gave a deep sigh. "I suppose I must be two miles away, at least. They said four, but maybe they piled it on." Several times the bully thought of starting out but gave it up, thinking he might lose his way; but when it became lighter he took a look around the loft and presently descended the ladder to the ground floor of the carriage house. "Hi, you tramp! Wot be you a-doin' up there, tell me that?" cried a voice from the other end of the building. "I'm no tramp, sir," answered Baxter. "I am--Peleg Snuggers!" "If it ain't Master Baxter!" ejaculated the general utility man, who had just started in on his morning work. "Well, I never! How did you git here?" "What place is this, Peleg?" "Wot place? Why, the carriage house, o' course." "What!" yelled Dan Baxter; and at that instant he was by far the maddest boy the school ever contained. "Sure. Wot did you think it was, eh?" "Never mind. Is the back door to the Hall open?" "Yes." "Then I'm going in," answered the bully, and ran off without another word. CHAPTER XXVIII THE RESULTS OF A FIRE That morning Dan Baxter did not appear and it was reported that he was sick. "He acts to me as if he were going to die," announced Mumps, when appealed to. "I don't know exactly what is the matter with him." "Can this be true?" asked Pepper of Jack. "I'd hate to think that Baxter got sick through what we did to him." "More than likely he is shamming," said the young major, and he was right. But to make sure Captain Putnam sent for Doctor Framley, a physician of Cedarville, who made a careful examination. "He is nervous, as if he had been frightened, that is all," announced the medical man. "Let him keep quiet for a day or two." Baxter had hoped to scare his tormentors into thinking that they were responsible for a serious spell of sickness. When this plan failed he quickly got around as before. He tried his best to find out who had hazed him, but the cadets kept their secret well. On the day following the hazing Jack chanced to go down to the lake front. He was just entering the boathouse when, to his astonishment, two men stepped forth. They were the individuals he had seen several times on the mysterious sloop. "Say, what do you want here?" he demanded, but instead of replying the men hurried away, up the lake, and then in the direction of Cedarville. "Well, of all the mysteries I ever struck," exclaimed the young major. "Now, what can those chaps be up to? This is at least the third or fourth time they have come here, and nobody seems to know anything about them." When Jack returned to the Hall he lost no time in visiting Captain Putnam's office. "Perhaps you'll laugh at me, sir," he said. "But I want to report those two men again." "Again!" cried the master of Putnam Hall. "Where did you see them?" "At the boathouse. I went down there for a skate strap. They were just coming out." "Did you speak to them?" "Yes, I asked them what they wanted. They didn't answer, and hurried away on the Cedarville road." "Did they take anything out of the boathouse?" "I don't know." "I must assuredly investigate this, Major Ruddy. Let us go to the boathouse together." This was done and they took a careful look around. Nothing was missing. "Why can't we follow them up once?" questioned Jack. "We ought to be able to overtake them in a cutter." "A good idea. I'll have Snuggers get a cutter ready at once. Get your overcoat and your gloves." In a few minutes they were on the way, the captain driving and Jack sitting by his side. They drove all the way to the village, but saw nothing of the men. "Perhaps they turned off on a side road," said the young major. "It is possible." There was nothing to do but to return to Putnam Hall. This they did; and for the time being the subject was dropped. At the end of the week, Jack, Pepper, Andy, and Dale got permission to visit Cedarville, one to buy a pair of skates, and the others to get various things. They set out on foot, thinking nothing of the rather long walk before them. Just before reaching Cedarville they came to a side road, leading to a spot called Brierroot Grove. A short distance up the road was a two-story cottage, located behind a hedge of boxwood. "Look!" cried Andy, pointing to the cottage, "Am I mistaken, or is that place on fire?" "It's the chimney smoking," answered Pepper. "No, it's a fire coming up through the roof around the chimney!" burst out Jack. "Let us go to the fire!" sang out Dale, and suiting the action to the word, he turned down the side road, and the others followed at his heels. By the time they reached the cottage the place was burning fiercely throughout the second story and around the roof. "I don't see anybody," said Pepper. "Perhaps the place isn't occupied." "Maybe tramps set it on fire," suggested Dale. "I see two men!" cried Jack. "Well, I never!" "What is it, Jack?" "The men from the sloop! Here is where they must have been putting up!" The cadets ran into the yard of the house and to the front door. They had seen the two men pass in and out, carrying some furniture. "How did this start?" called out Pepper to one of the men. At this cry both men turned around to gaze at the youths. Then one spoke to the other in a low tone, and off they ran to the rear of the cottage, leaped a rail fence, and disappeared from view in the woods. "Stop!" yelled Jack, but the men paid no attention. "They are the queerest chaps I ever met!" declared Pepper. "I believe they must be crazy." "Help! help!" came in a weak cry from the cottage. "Somebody is in there!" said Dale. "It's a woman," returned Jack. "Come on!" And he ran into the cottage. The others followed. The smoke was growing thick, and at first they could see nothing. Then they saw an old woman with a crutch, trying to hobble down a pair of stairs. "Don't let me burn up!" she screamed. "Don't let me burn up!" Running to the old woman, Jack caught her in his arms. It was an easy matter to carry her to the open air. Here he sat her down on an old horse-block which was clear of snow. She was trembling so she could not speak. It was easily to be seen that the cottage was doomed. The village of Cedarville boasted of nothing better than an old hand engine and a bucket brigade, and to get the engine through the snow was next to impossible. "Let us take out what furniture we can," said Jack, and this they did, and also carried out some clothing, a lamp and a few pictures. While the building was burning a crowd of thirty or forty folks collected. "It don't belong to the old woman," said one of the farmers to Jack. "It belongs to Mr. Eggers, a rich man of Ithaca. He let her live in it rent-free, because it wasn't worth much." "Then the old woman didn't lose much," replied the young major. "Who is she?" "Her name is Mrs. Cowen. Nobody knows much about her, except that she has a brother who lives near the head of the lake." The old woman was taken to the nearest cottage, and there, after the fire was at an end, Jack went to interview her. "I'm goin' to live with my brother now--I ain't goin' to live alone no more," she murmured. "We got out most of your furniture." "Twasn't mine--it belonged to the house. The old hair trunk was mine. Did ye save that?" "Yes." "Then I don't care much--brother Jim wants me anyway." "I want to know about those two men who were stopping at the cottage," went on Jack. "Who are they?" "Ain't they around?" "No, they ran away." "Humph! It's just like 'em. They were the strangest! Allers doin' somethin' queer-like." "Did they board with you?" "Kind of--when they were to home. They went out a good deal. They each paid three dollars a week. Sometimes they got their own meals, too--when I wasn't feelin' well." "Do you know their names?" "No, 'ceptin' one was Bart an' tudder Paul. They had some scheme for getting a million dollars." "A million dollars?" "Yes. They were after a fellow they called George. They said he had the secret." "I guess they were crazy," answered Jack. "Have you any idea where they could have gone to?" "No." The old woman could tell no more, and a little later Jack left her, and told his chums of what he had learned. "Maybe the fellows will leave the neighborhood, now the house has burned down," said Pepper. "We must watch out for them," put in Andy. "They ought to be captured and interviewed." CHAPTER XXIX THE DISAPPEARANCE OF GEORGE STRONG Two days after the fire came another snow-storm, which lasted the best part of a day and a night. After that the weather cleared rapidly, and it became quite warm. "I'm going to Malville," said George Strong, on Monday afternoon. "I shall be back early in the morning." "Very well, Mr. Strong," answered Captain Putnam. Malville was a small settlement back of Top Rock Hill, and George Strong said he had a distant relative there, whom he wished to see. He set off in a cutter, and Jack and Pepper chanced to see him depart. "Have a good time, Mr. Strong!" shouted Pepper, pleasantly. "Thank you, Ditmore, I am going on business, not pleasure." The following morning passed, and the assistant teacher did not appear. Captain Putnam took his place in the classroom, and also taught during the afternoon. "This is strange," he said to Josiah Crabtree. "I expected him back by ten o'clock, or noon at the latest." The next day passed, and still George Strong did not show himself, nor did he send any message to explain his absence. Captain Putnam was much worried, and the absence of the assistant upset matters in the school. All of the cadets began to talk of the affair. "Maybe his horse ran away and threw him out on the rocks," said Stuffer. "If I was the captain I'd investigate," came from Harry Blossom. "He said he was going on business," said Pepper. "Perhaps the business took longer than he expected." Another day passed, and both the master of the hall and his cadets grew worried. Josiah Crabtree was very sour, for he had to perform some of the duties assigned to the missing teacher. "He should have sense enough to come back," said he severely. "Something is wrong, that is certain," answered Captain Putnam. "I am going to investigate to-day." When the boys heard that the captain was going to drive to Malville Jack, Pepper, and Andy begged to be taken along. "Perhaps we can be of assistance," suggested the young major. "That is, if anything has happened to him on the road." "Very well, I'll take the big sleigh and a team, and you can accompany me," answered the captain. In the end the party to go out numbered five, for Dale went along also. The team was powerful, and in spite of the hills and the snow Malville was reached in three hours. They found the cottage of George Strong's relative, and were surprised to find it locked up. "Nobody has been at home for a month," said a neighbor. "Did you see anything of a man with a cutter around here yesterday, or a day or two before?" "No, sir." "You would have seen him, had he stopped?" "I think so. Our family generally see everything that is going on around here." The neighbor could tell no more, and Captain Putnam and the cadets were nonplused. "He must have gone somewhere!" declared Pepper. "The question is, where?" "Let us ask the folks around town if they have seen him?" suggested Dale. This was done, and at last they met a blacksmith who had seen George Strong on the road a mile outside of Malville. "He was stopping by the roadside, and two odd-looking men were talking to him," said the blacksmith. "They seemed to be arguing about something." "Wait!" burst out Jack. "Tell us how those men looked, if you can." The blacksmith did so, and they listened with interest. "The mysterious men, I'll wager a biscuit!" burst out Pepper. "Exactly what I think," came from Jack. "Don't you remember what the old woman told you?" came from Andy. "She said those chaps were talking about a man named George!" "That's it! Those men must have been hanging around Putnam Hall because Mr. Strong was there." The cadets looked at Captain Putnam, whose face was a study. "You may be right, my lads," said the master of the Hall, slowly. "But that doesn't explain what the men wanted of Mr. Strong, or where Mr. Strong has gone to." "I'm satisfied of one thing," said Jack. "Those men were up to nothing good." "Perhaps they robbed Mr. Strong of something, and threw his body into the snow," suggested Dale. They listened to all the blacksmith had to say, and then took him along, so that he might point out the exact spot where the interview had taken place. It was near a turn in the road, where the snow had drifted but little. "Here are many footprints," said Pepper, pointing with his hand. "It looks to me as if there might have been a struggle," came from Andy. "See how the snow is dug and scattered about." "It does look as if something had been going on," answered the captain. "See, the footprints lead along this path and into the forest." "Here are the tracks of the horse and cutter!" shouted Dale, who had wandered down the road. "They go into the woods, too. Do you know what I think? I think those men either killed Mr. Strong, or made him a prisoner, and then they carried him off!" "Let us follow the tracks of the cutter," said Jack, and this was done; the blacksmith accompanying them. "It's a nasty business," said the blacksmith. "If those odd-lookin' men killed your teacher they ought to be hung fer it!" The tracks of the horse and cutter led into the forest, and then along a cliff overlooking a stream now thickly covered with ice and snow. "I see a little shanty!" cried Andy. "Where?" "Over yonder at the edge of that next cliff." "Smoke is coming from the chimney," said Dale, an instant later. "That shows somebody must be in the place." "Let us approach with caution," came from Captain Putnam. "There is no telling how those strange men will act if they are there." "Better cut a few sticks," suggested Jack, and got out his jackknife. They soon had sticks, and the blacksmith cut a good-sized club. "If they be des'prit characters they'd better give me a wide berth," said he. Slowly they drew closer to the shanty. Just to the rear of the building was an open shed, and here they saw the cutter, with the horse tied in a corner and blanketed. "What a shame to leave a horse out in such weather as this!" cried Pepper. "Those men must be in the shanty," said Captain Putnam. "I sincerely trust that we find Mr. Strong unharmed." "Let us slip up behind the trees," said Andy. "We ought to try to capture them, or something, on the sly." With caution they crept up behind the trees, and then walked slowly toward the shanty. Some bushes helped to screen them, and soon they stood at the very door to the place. "Somebody is talking!" whispered Jack. "Listen!" At first they heard only a murmur, but presently they made out what was being said. "Yes, sir, George, it's a million and nothing less!" one of the strange men was saying. "A million, eh, Bart?" "A million!" came from the other man. "A million, and all in cash, too! We want no bonds or stocks." "Stocks?" one of the mysterious men laughed harshly. "Stocks? Do you want me to become poor again? Cash! It's cash we want, George!" "What an easy time we can have on a million!" returned the other queer individual. "If you would only listen to reason!" came from George Strong. "I do not know what has put this into your head. I haven't a million dollars, or anything like it." "You have!" came from both. "You are acting very foolishly, Bart. And so are you, Paul. That failure has turned your heads. If I----" "I want that money, and I am going to have it!" roared the man called Bart. "Hand over the million or I will shoot you!" And drawing a pistol, he pointed it straight at George Strong's head. CHAPTER XXX A LUCKY ESCAPE--CONCLUSION "Those men must be crazy!" cried Jack. "I believe both of them are as mad as March hares," returned Captain Putnam. He tried the door, to find it locked. Putting his shoulder to the barrier he burst it open, and the whole party stormed into the shanty. "Oh, Captain Putnam!" cried George Strong, joyfully. "I am very glad that you have come." "Put down that pistol!" ordered the master of the Hall, sternly, and looking the man named Bart straight in the eyes. "Put it down, I say!" The man hesitated an instant, and then allowed the weapon to drop at his side. "I wasn't going to shoot anybody," he said, humbly. "You had better give me the weapon," went on Captain Putnam, and wrenched it from the man's grasp. "Ha! they are attacking us!" shouted the other man. "Bart, we must fight for it!" And with a wild spring he leaped upon Jack, and caught the young major by the throat. "Le--let up!" gasped Jack, and then he could say no more, for his wind was completely cut off. Then the other man began to fight, so that the captain and the blacksmith had their hands full trying to subdue him. Seeing Jack's predicament, Pepper, Andy, and Dale rushed at the fellow called Paul and dragged him backward. But he would not let go his hold upon the young major, and Pepper hit him over the wrist with the stick. Then the man's hand dropped, and Jack staggered back. "We must make him a prisoner!" cried Andy, and they caught the man and held him, while Jack got a rope from the sleigh. Soon the other man was also bound. George Strong had had his hands tied behind him, and he was quickly released. "You do not know how thankful I am that you came," said the assistant, warmly. "I--I imagine things were getting black for me." "Let me go!" thundered the man called Bart. "I want my million dollars!" And he glared wildly at George Strong and at the others. "Do you know these men at all?" questioned Captain Putnam. "I do, sir. I am sorry to say they are distant relatives of mine--third cousins. Both of them used to be rich, but they went into an oil speculation, and it failed, and they lost almost all of their money. That seemed to turn their heads, and somehow they got a notion that I was holding back a family treasure from them, a treasure they said was worth one or two million dollars." "Is there such a treasure?" asked Jack, curiously. "I don't think so, although the story is told in our family that one of my ancestors, during the Revolution, buried a pot of gold to keep the English soldiers from getting it. But the amount could not have been anything like a million." "Those men were around the Hall a number of times," said Jack. "They were the mysterious fellows I mentioned a long time ago." "Yes, they came to see me on the sly if they could. I believe, had they gotten the chance, they would have carried me off in their sloop." "They ought to be put in an asylum," said Captain Putnam. "It is not safe to allow them their liberty." "With your permission. I'll turn them over to some of my relatives in the West," answered George Strong. "I know they can manage them." "As you please--but keep them away from the Hall in the future." At first the two prisoners were furious, but when their fury subsided they became very humble, and both began to cry. "We wanted only our rights," whined one. "If I had a million dollars, I could take an air-ship to the North Pole or the moon, or anywhere." "He is certainly mad," said Andy. "What a dreadful condition to be in." Late in the day the prisoners were taken to Cedarville, and George Strong telegraphed for a relative to come at once and take charge of them. "They may be crazy, but they told me something which I think may be true," said the assistant teacher to the boys. "They said they were watching around the school at the time you had the big snow house, and they saw three cadets run up on top and cave it in. I questioned them, and I am almost certain Coulter was one of the boys and Baxter another." "It would be just like that crowd," exclaimed Pepper, bitterly. "If Baxter and Coulter were in it the other fellow must have been Paxton or Mumps,--I mean Fenwick, sir." "They said they were all big boys." "Then it must have been Paxton. That crowd always hangs together for mischief." As soon as they arrived at the Hall, Pepper tried to locate the bully and his chums. The only cadet he could find of the crowd was Coulter. "So, Coulter, it was you who helped to cave in that snow house, eh?" he said, catching the cadet by the arm. "Who--er--told you," stammered Coulter. "Oh, don't deny it." "I'm not denying it," was the bold reply. "What are you going to do about it?" "That!" cried Pepper, and hit Coulter a stinging blow in the mouth, which loosened two front teeth. Then a regular fight ensued, and Coulter was badly whipped. Paxton also received a thrashing at the hands of Andy, while Baxter only escaped punishment by keeping out of sight excepting during school hours. "Now, maybe, they'll keep their distance for a while," said Pepper. But he was mistaken, the bully of the Hall and his cronies were not subdued, and what they did in retaliation will be told in another volume, to be called "The Putnam Hall Rivals; or, Fun and Sport Afloat and Ashore." In this book we will meet all of our friends once more, in games and adventures as exciting as any of the past. George Strong felt much relieved when a relative from the West came to take the two crazy men away. "I never want to see them again," said the assistant teacher. But he did see them, and they did their best to cause him no end of trouble. A week after the rescue of George Strong some of the cadets learned that Captain Putnam's birthday was at hand. They asked the master of the Hall if they could celebrate, and he gave the desired permission. Money was raised among the cadets to present the captain with a fine set of encyclopedias, and of this gift Captain Putnam was justly proud. "All things considered, you are doing very well," said the master to his pupils. "I am proud of you, and happy to think that Putnam Hall is earning such a good reputation for itself." "I shouldn't want to go to a better school," said Jack. "It just suits me exactly." "So say I," came from Pepper. "Of course we might do without Baxter and that crowd----" "Every school seems to have its bully," put in Andy. "All we can do is to make him keep his place." "Don't bother with Baxter!" broke in Dale. "Let us enjoy ourselves." Just then Stuffer burst into the dormitory, his face wreathed in smiles. "Come to the mess-hall!" he called out. "Such a spread! I'm going to eat the meal of my life!" "That settles it," laughed Jack. "Hurry up, all of you. If Stuffer gets there first, there will be nothing left!" And they rushed down the stairs pell-mell; and here let us leave them and say good-bye. THE END The Famous Rover Boys Series By ARTHUR W. WINFIELD Each volume is hailed with delight by boys and girls everywhere 12mo. Cloth. Handsomely printed and illustrated. Price, 60 Cents per Volume. Postpaid. THE ROVER BOYS DOWN EAST Or, The Struggle for the Stanhope Fortune Old enemies try again to injure our friends. THE ROVER BOYS AT COLLEGE Or, The Right Road and the Wrong Brimming over with good nature and excitement. THE ROVER BOYS ON TREASURE ISLE Or, The Strange Cruise of the Steam Yacht A search for treasure; a particularly fascinating volume. THE ROVER BOYS ON THE FARM Or, The Last Days at Putnam Hall The boys find a mysterious cave used by freight thieves. THE ROVER BOYS IN SOUTHERN WATERS Or, The Deserted Steam Yacht A trip to the coast of Florida. THE ROVER BOYS ON THE PLAINS Or, The Mystery of Red Rock Ranch Relates adventures on the mighty Mississippi River. THE ROVER BOYS ON THE RIVER Or, The Search for the Missing Houseboat The Ohio River is the theme of this spirited story. THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP Or, The Rivals of Pine Island At the annual school encampment. THE ROVER BOYS ON LAND AND SEA Or, The Crusoes of Seven Islands Full of strange and surprising adventures. THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS Or, A Hunt for Fame and Fortune The boys in the Adirondacks at a Winter camp. THE ROVER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES Or, The Secret of the Island Cave A story of a remarkable Summer outing; full of fun. THE ROVER BOYS OUT WEST Or, The Search for a Lost Mine A graphic description of the mines of the great Rockies. THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE Or, Stirring Adventures in Africa The boys journey to the Dark Continent in search of their father. THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN Or, A Chase for a Fortune From school to the Atlantic Ocean. THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL Or, The Cadets of Putnam Hall The doings of Dick, Tom, and Sam Rover. The Rise in Life Series By Horatio Alger, Jr. These are Copyrighted Stories which cannot be obtained elsewhere. They are the stories last written by this famous author. 12mo. Handsomely printed and illustrated. Bound in cloth, stamped in colored inks. Price. 40 Cents per Volume. Postpaid. THE YOUNG BOOK AGENT Or, Frank Hardy's Road to Success A plain but uncommonly interesting tale of everyday life, describing the ups and downs of a boy book-agent. FROM FARM TO FORTUNE: Or, Nat Nason's Strange Experience Nat was a poor country lad. Work on the farm was hard, and after a quarrel with his uncle, with whom he resided, he struck out for himself. OUT FOR BUSINESS: Or, Robert Frost's Strange Career Relates the adventures of a country boy who is compelled to leave home and seek his fortune in the great world at large. How he wins success we must leave to the reader to discover. FALLING IN WITH FORTUNE Or, The Experiences of a Young Secretary This is a companion tale to "Out for Business," but complete in itself, and tells of the further doings of Robert Frost as private secretary. YOUNG CAPTAIN JACK: Or, The Son of a Soldier The scene is laid in the South during the Civil War, and the hero is a waif who was cast up by the sea and adopted by a rich Southern planter. NELSON THE NEWSBOY: Or, Afloat in New York Mr. Alger is always at his best in the portrayal of life in New York City, and this story is among the best he has given our young readers. LOST AT SEA: Or, Robert Roscoe's Strange Cruise A sea story of uncommon interest. The hero falls in with a strange derelict--a ship given over to the wild animals of a menagerie. JERRY, THE BACKWOODS BOY Or, The Parkhurst Treasure Depicts life on a farm of New York State. The mystery of the treasure will fascinate every boy. Jerry is a character well worth knowing. RANDY OF THE RIVER Or, The Adventures of a Young Deckhand Life on a river steamboat is not so romantic as some young people may imagine. There is hard work, and plenty of it, and the remuneration is not of the best. But Randy Thompson wanted work and took what was offered. His success in the end was well deserved, and perhaps the lesson his doings teach will not be lost upon those who peruse these pages. GROSSET & DUNLAP, · NEW YORK * * * * * * Transcriber's note: Obvious typographical errors were corrected without note. 
25923	----	Distributed Proofreading Canada Team (http://www.pgdpcanada.net) Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustration. See 25923-h.htm or 25923-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/5/9/2/25923/25923-h/25923-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/5/9/2/25923/25923-h.zip) BRANDON OF THE ENGINEERS * * * * * BY THE SAME AUTHOR Alton of Somasco Lorimer of the Northwest Thurston of Orchard Valley Winston of the Prairie The Gold Trail Sydney Carteret, Rancher A Prairie Courtship Vane of the Timberlands The Long Portage Ranching for Sylvia Prescott of Saskatchewan The Dust of Conflict The Greater Power Masters of the Wheatlands Delilah of the Snows By Right of Purchase The Cattle Baron's Daughter Thrice Armed For Jacinta The Intriguers The League of the Leopard For the Allison Honor The Secret of the Reef Harding of Allenwood The Coast of Adventure Johnstons of the Border Brandon of the Engineers * * * * * BRANDON OF THE ENGINEERS by HAROLD BINDLOSS Author of "Johnstone of the Border," "Prescott of Saskatchewan," "Winston of the Prairie," etc. [Illustration: "'YOU MUST COME. I CAN'T LET YOU LIVE AMONG THOSE PLOTTERS AND GAMBLERS.'"--Page 224.] New York Frederick A. Stokes Company Publishers Copyright, 1916, by Frederick A. Stokes Company Published in England under the Title "His One Talent" All Rights Reserved CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I A Promising Officer 1 II Dick's Troubles Begin 11 III The Punishment 22 IV Adversity 34 V The Concrete Truck 44 VI A Step Up 54 VII Dick Undertakes a Responsibility 65 VIII An Informal Court 75 IX Jake Fuller 85 X La Mignonne 97 XI Clare Gets a Shock 107 XII Dick Keeps His Promise 118 XIII The Return from the Fiesta 129 XIV Complications 140 XV The Missing Coal 151 XVI Jake Gets into Difficulties 161 XVII The Black-Funnel Boat 172 XVIII Dick Gets a Warning 184 XIX Jake Explains Matters 194 XX Don Sebastian 205 XXI Dick Makes a Bold Venture 215 XXII The Official Mind 225 XXIII The Clamp 237 XXIV The Altered Sailing List 247 XXV The Water-Pipe 259 XXVI The Liner's Fate 270 XXVII The Silver Clasp 282 XXVIII Rough Water 294 XXIX Kenwardine Takes a Risk 304 XXX The Last Encounter 314 XXXI Richter's Message 326 XXXII Ida Interferes 336 BRANDON OF THE ENGINEERS CHAPTER I A PROMISING OFFICER The lengthening shadows lay blue and cool beneath the alders by the waterside, though the cornfields that rolled back up the hill glowed a coppery yellow in the light of the setting sun. It was hot and, for the most part, strangely quiet in the bottom of the valley since the hammers had stopped, but now and then an order was followed by a tramp of feet and the rattle of chain-tackle. Along one bank of the river the reflections of the trees quivered in dark-green masses; the rest of the water was dazzlingly bright. A pontoon bridge, dotted with figures in khaki, crossed a deep pool. At its head, where a white road ran down the hill, a detachment of engineers lounged in the shade. Their faces were grimed with sweat and dust, and some, with coats unbuttoned, sprawled in the grass. They had toiled hard through the heat of the day, and now were enjoying an "easy," until they should be called to attention when their work was put to the test. As Lieutenant Richard Brandon stood where the curve was boldest at the middle of the bridge, he had no misgivings about the result so far as the section for which he was responsible was concerned. He was young, but there was some ground for his confidence; for he not only had studied all that text-books could teach him but he had the constructor's eye, which sees half-instinctively where strength or weakness lies. Brandon began his military career as a prize cadet and after getting his commission he was quickly promoted from subaltern rank. His advancement, however, caused no jealousy, for Dick Brandon was liked. He was, perhaps, a trifle priggish about his work--cock-sure, his comrades called it--but about other matters he was naïvely ingenuous. Indeed, acquaintances who knew him only when he was off duty thought him something of a boy. In person, he was tall and strongly made, with a frank, sunburned face. His jaw was square and when he was thoughtful his lips set firmly; his light-gray eyes were clear and steady. He was genial with his comrades, but usually diffident in the company of women and older men. Presently the Adjutant came up and, stopping near, glanced along the rippling line that marked the curve of the bridge. "These center pontoons look rather prominent, as if they'd been pushed upstream a foot or two," he remarked. "Was that done by Captain Maitland's order?" "No, sir," Dick answered with some awkwardness. "For one thing, I found they'd lie steadier out of the eddy." "They do, but I don't know that it's much of an advantage. Had you any other reason for modifying the construction plans?" Dick felt embarrassed. He gave the Adjutant a quick glance; but the man's face was inscrutable. Captain Hallam was a disciplinarian where discipline was needed, but he knew the value of what he called initiative. "Well," Dick tried to explain, "if you notice how the wash of the head-rapid sweeps down the middle of the pool----" "I have noticed it," said the Adjutant dryly. "That's why the bridge makes a slight sweep. But go on." "We found a heavy drag on the center that flattened the curve. Of course, if we could have pushed it up farther, we'd have got a stronger form." "Why?" "It's obvious, sir. If we disregard the moorings, a straight bridge would tend to curve downstream and open out under a shearing strain. As we get nearer the arch form it naturally gets stiffer, because the strain becomes compressive. After making the bridge strong enough for traffic, the problem is to resist the pressure of the current." "True," the Adjutant agreed with a smile. "Well, we'll let the pontoons stand. The traditions of the British Army are changing fast, but while we don't demand the old mechanical obedience, it might be better not to introduce too marked innovations. Anyhow, it's not desirable that they should, so to speak, strike a commanding officer in the eye. Some officers are conservative and don't like that kind of thing." He moved on and Dick wondered whether he had said too much. He was apt to forget his rank and comparative unimportance when technical matters were discussed. In fact, it was sometimes difficult not to appear presumptuous; but when one knew that one was right---- In the meantime, the Adjutant met the Colonel, and they stopped together at the bridge-head. "I think we have made a good job, but the brigade's transport is pretty heavy," the Colonel remarked. "I'm satisfied with the bridge, sir; very creditable work for beginners. If the other branches of the new armies are as good----" "The men are in earnest. Things, of course, are changing, and I suppose old-fashioned prejudices must go overboard. Personally, I liked the type we had before the war, but we'll let that go. Young Brandon strikes me as particularly keen." "Keen as mustard," the Adjutant agreed. "In other ways, perhaps, he's more of the kind you have been used to." "Now I wonder what you mean by that! You're something of what they're pleased to call a progressive, aren't you? However, I like the lad. His work is good." "He _knows_, sir." "Ah," said the Colonel, "I think I understand. But what about the drawings of the new pontoons? They must be sent to-night." "They're ready. To tell the truth, I showed them to Brandon and he made a good suggestion about the rounding of the waterline." The Colonel looked thoughtful. "Well, the idea of a combined pontoon and light boat that would carry troops is by no means new; but these are rather an unusual type and if it were known that we were building them, it might give the enemy a hint. I suppose you told Brandon the thing's to be kept quiet." "Yes; I made it plain," the Adjutant said, and they walked on. Dick had been sitting on the bridge, but he jumped up as a rhythmic tramp of feet came down the hillside. Dust rose among the cornfields and hung in a white streak along the edge of a wood, and then with a twinkling flash of steel, small, ocher-colored figures swung out of the shadow. They came on in loose fours, in an unending line that wound down the steep slopes and reached the bridge-head. Then orders rolled across the stream, the line narrowed, and the measured tramp changed to a sharp uneven patter. The leading platoon were breaking step as they crossed the bridge. Dick frowned impatiently. This was a needless precaution. The engineers' work was good; it would stand the percussive shock of marching feet. He stood at attention, with a sparkle in his eyes, as the hot and dusty men went by. They were, for the most part, young men, newly raised infantry, now being hardened and tempered until they were fit to be used as the army's spear-head in some desperate thrust for which engineers and artillery had cleared the way. It was some time before the first battalion crossed, but the long yellow line still ran back up the hillside to the spot at which it emerged from the deepening shade, and the next platoon took the bridge with unbroken step. It swayed and shook with a curious regular tremble as the feet came down; but there was no giving way of tie and stringer-beam, and Dick forgot the men who were passing, and thought of fastenings and stressed material. He was young and the pomp of war had its effect on him, but the human element began to take second place. Although an officer of the new army, he was first of all an engineer; his business was to handle wood and iron rather than men. The throb of the planks and the swing of the pontoons as the load passed over them fascinated him; and his interest deepened when the transport began to cross. Sweating, spume-flecked horses trod the quivering timber with iron-shod hoofs; grinding wheels jarred the structure as the wagons passed. He could feel it yield and bend, but it stood, and Dick was conscious of a strange, emotional thrill. This, in a sense, was his triumph; the first big task in which he had taken a man's part; and his work had passed the test. Taste, inclination, and interest had suddenly deepened into an absorbing love for his profession. After a time, the Adjutant sent for him and held out a large, sealed envelope. "These are the plans I showed you," he said. "Colonel Farquhar is driving to Newcastle, and will stop at Storeton Grange for supper at midnight. The plans must be delivered to him there. You have a motorcycle, I think?" "Yes." "Very well; it is not a long ride, but I'll release you from duty now. Don't be late at Storeton, take care of the papers, and get Colonel Farquhar's receipt." There was a manufacturing town not far off, and Dick decided to go there and spend the evening with a cousin of his. They might go to a theater, or if not, Lance would find some means of amusing him. As a rule, Dick did not need amusing, but he felt that he must celebrate the building of the bridge. Lance Brandon was becoming known as an architect, and he had a good deal of constructive talent. The physical likeness between him and Dick was rather marked, but he was older and they differed in other respects. Lance knew how to handle men as well as material, and perhaps he owed as much to this as to his artistic skill. His plans for a new church and the remodeling of some public buildings had gained him recognition; but he already was popular at country houses in the neighborhood and was courted by the leading inhabitants of the town. Dick and he dined at the best hotel and Lance listened sympathetically to the description of the bridge. He was not robust enough for the army, but he hinted that he envied Dick; and Dick felt flattered. He sometimes bantered Lance about his social gifts and ambitions, but he had never resented the favors his father had shown his cousin. Lance had been left an orphan at an early age and the elder Brandon--a man of means and standing--had brought him up with his son. They had been good friends and Dick was pleased when his father undertook to give Lance a fair start at the profession he chose. He imagined that now Lance was beginning to make his mark, his allowance had stopped, but this was not his business. Lance was a very good sort, although he was clever in ways that Dick was not and indeed rather despised. "What shall we do next?" Dick asked when they had lounged for a time in the smoking-room. Lance made a gesture of resignation as he stretched himself in a big chair. He was dressed with quiet taste, his face was handsome but rather colorless, and his movements were languid. "You're such an energetic beggar," he complained. "The only theater where they put on plays worth seeing is closed just now, but there's a new dancer at the nearest hall and we might look in. I hope my churchwarden patrons won't disapprove if they hear of it, because they talk about building an ornamental mission room." Dick laughed. "They wouldn't find fault with you. Somehow, nobody does." "There's some truth in that; the secret is that I know when to stop. One can enjoy life without making the pace too hot. People aren't really censorious, and even the narrow-minded sort allow you certain limits; in fact, I imagine they rather admire you if you can play with fire and not get singed. Women do, anyhow; and, in a sense, their judgment's logical. The thing that doesn't hurt you can't be injurious, and it shows moderation and self-control if you don't pass the danger line." "How do you know when you have come to the line?" "Well," smiled Lance, "experience helps; but I think it's an instinct. Of course, if you do show signs of damage, you're done for, because then the people who envied you throw the biggest stones." "Let's start," said Dick. "I'm not much of a philosopher. Building bridges and digging saps is good enough for me." "They're healthy occupations, so long as you don't get shot; but, considering everything, it's strange that they still monopolize your interest." Dick colored. He knew what his cousin meant. He had been attracted by a girl of whom his father approved and who was well-bred, pretty, and rich. Dick imagined that his father's views were agreeable to Helen's relatives and that she was not ignorant of this. Still, nothing had been actually arranged, and although he admired Helen, it would be time enough to think of marriage when he was a captain, for instance. "Pontoons and excavations have their charm for men with constructive tastes," Lance went on; "but you may find later that they don't satisfy all your needs." "Get your hat!" Dick returned with a smile, jumping up as he spoke. The music-hall was badly filled. The audience seemed listless and the performance dragged. Even the much-praised dancer was disappointing, and there was an unusual number of shabby loungers in the bar. Dick had come prepared to enjoy himself after a day of arduous work, and by way of doing so, he ordered a drink or two that he did not really want. As a rule, he was abstemious, but the hall was very hot. It struck him as glaring and tawdry after the quiet dale where the water sparkled among the stones; and the pallid loungers with their stamp of indulgence differed unpleasantly from the hard, brown-faced men he led. "Let's clear out," he said at last. "Is there anywhere else to go?" "My rooms," Lance suggested. "Oh, I want something fresh to-night," Dick replied with a smile. Lance pondered. "Well, I can show you some keen card-play and perhaps a clever game of billiards, besides a girl who's a great deal prettier than the dancer. But it's four miles out of town." Dick glanced at his watch. "I can take you on the carrier," he said. "I've plenty of time yet." They set off, and presently stopped at a tall iron gate on the edge of a firwood. A glimmer of lights indicated that a house stood at the end of the drive. "Kenwardine will be glad to receive you as a friend of mine," Lance said; "and you needn't play unless you like. He's fond of company and generally has a number of young men about the place." "A private gambling club?" "Oh, no. You're very far from the mark. Kenwardine certainly likes a bet and sometimes runs a bank, but all he wins wouldn't do much to keep up a place like this. However, you can see for yourself." Dick was not a gambler and did not play many games, but he wanted a little excitement, and he looked forward to it as he followed his cousin up the drive. CHAPTER II DICK'S TROUBLES BEGIN It was with mixed feelings that Clare Kenwardine got down from the stopping train at a quiet station and waited for the trap to take her home. The trap was not in sight, but this did not surprise her, for nobody in her father's household was punctual. Clare sometimes wondered why the elderly groom-gardener, whose wages were very irregularly paid, stayed on, unless it was because his weakness for liquor prevented his getting a better post; but the servants liked her father, for he seldom found fault with them. Kenwardine had a curious charm, which his daughter felt as strongly as anybody else, though she was beginning to see his failings and had, indeed, been somewhat shocked when she came home to live with him not long before. Now she knitted her level brows as she sat down and looked up the straight, white road. It ran through pastures, and yellow cornfields where harvesters were at work, to a moor on which the ling glowed red in the fading light. Near the station a dark firwood stretched back among the fields and a row of beeches rose in dense masses of foliage beside the road. There was no sound except the soft splash of a stream. Everything was peaceful; but Clare was young, and tranquillity was not what she desired. She had, indeed, had too much of it in the sleepy cathedral town she had left. Her difficulty was that she felt drawn in two different ways; for she had inherited something of her father's recklessness and love of pleasure, though her mother, who died when Clare was young, had been a shy Puritan. Clare was kept at school much longer than usual; and when she insisted on coming home she found herself puzzled by her father's way of living. Young men, and particularly army officers, frequented the house; stylish women came down from town, often without their husbands; and there was generally some exciting amusement going on. This had its attraction for Clare; but her delicate refinement was sometimes offended, and once she was even alarmed. One of the young men had shown his admiration for her in a way that jarred, and soon afterward there had been a brawl over a game of cards. Kenwardine had then suggested that she make a long visit to her aunts, in the cathedral town. They had received her gladly but she soon found her stay there irksome. The aunts were austere, religious women, who moved in a narrow groove and ordered all their doings by a worn-out social code. Still, they were kind and gave Clare to understand that she was to stay with them always and have no more to do with Kenwardine than duty demanded. The girl rebelled. She shrank with innate dislike from license and dissipation, but the life her aunts led was dreary, and she could not give up her father. Though inexperienced, she was intelligent and she saw that her path would not be altogether smooth now that she was going home for good. While she thought about it, the trap arrived and the shabby groom drove her up the hill with confused apologies. An hour or two after Clare reached home, Lance and Dick Brandon entered the house and were met by Kenwardine in the hall. He wore a velvet jacket over his evening clothes and Dick noticed a wine-stain on the breast. He was thin, but his figure was athletic, although his hair was turning gray and there were wrinkles about his eyes. "Very glad to see your cousin," he said to Lance, and turned to Dick with a smile. "Soldiers have a particular claim on our hospitality, but my house is open to anybody of cheerful frame of mind. One must relax now and then in times like these." "That's why I brought Dick," Lance replied. "He believes in tension. But I wonder whether your notion of relaxing is getting lax?" "There's a difference, though it's sometimes rather fine," Kenwardine answered with a twinkle. "But come in and amuse yourselves as you like. If you want a drink, you know where to find it." They played a game of billiards and then went into another room, where Dick lost a sovereign to Kenwardine. After that, he sat in a corner, smoking and languidly looking about, for he had been hard at work since early morning. Two or three subaltern officers from a neighboring camp stood by the table, besides several other men whose sunburned faces indicated a country life. The carpets and furniture were getting shabby, but the room was large and handsome, with well-molded cornices and paneled ceiling. The play was not high and the men were quiet, but the room was filled with cigar smoke and there was a smell of liquor. Dick did not object to drink and gambling in moderation, though it was seldom that he indulged in either. He found no satisfaction in that sort of thing, and he now felt that some of Kenwardine's friends would do better to join the new armies than to waste their time as they were doing. At last Kenwardine threw down the cards. "I think we have had enough for a time," he said. "Shall we go into the music-room, for a change?" Dick followed the others, and looked up with surprise when Clare came in. Lance had spoken of a pretty girl, but she was not the type Dick had expected. She wore a very plain white dress, with touches of blue that emphasized her delicate coloring. Her hair was a warm yellow with deeper tones, her features were regular and well-defined, and Dick liked the level glance of her clear, blue eyes. He thought they rested on him curiously for a moment. She had Kenwardine's slender, well-balanced figure, and her movements were graceful, but Dick's strongest impression was that she was out of place. Though perfectly at ease, she did not fit into her environment: she had a freshness that did not harmonize with cigar smoke and the smell of drink. Clare gave him a pleasant smile when he was presented, and after speaking to one or two of the others she went to the piano when Kenwardine asked her to sing. Dick, who was sitting nearest the instrument, stooped to take a bundle of music from a cabinet she opened. "No," she said; "you may put those down. I'm afraid we have nothing quite so good, and perhaps it's silly, but I've fallen back on our own composers since the fourth of August." Dick spread out the music, to display the titles. "These fellows have been dead some time," he argued humorously. "They'd probably disown their descendants if they'd survived until now. But here's a Frenchman's work. They're on our side, and his stuff is pretty good, isn't it?" Clare smiled. "Yes," she said, "it's certainly good; but I'd rather sing something English to-night." She began a patriotic ballad Dick knew and liked. He was not much of a musician, but his taste was good. The song rang true; it was poetry and not warlike jingle, but he had not heard it sung so well before. Clare's voice had been carefully trained and she used it well, but he knew that she had grasped the spirit of the song. One or two of the men who had been sitting got up, two young subalterns stood very stiff and straight, but Dick noted that Kenwardine did not change his lounging attitude. He was smiling, and Lance, glancing at him, looked amused. Dick remembered this afterward, but he now felt that Lance was not quite showing his usual good form. When the song was finished, Dick turned to Clare. He wanted to begin talking to her before anybody else came up. "It was very fine. I don't understand the technique of music, but one felt that you got the song just right. And then, the way you brought out the idea!" "That is what the mechanical part is for," she answered with a smile and a touch of color. "As it happens, I saw an infantry brigade on the march to-day, and watched the long line of men go by in the dust and sun. Perhaps that helps one to understand." "Did you see them cross the bridge?" Dick asked eagerly. "No," she answered; and he felt absurdly disappointed. He would have liked to think that his work had helped her to sing. "Have you another like the first?" he asked. "I never sing more than once," she smiled. Then as Lance and another man came toward them, she added, glancing at an open French window: "Besides, the room is very hot. It would be cooler in the garden." Dick was not a man of affairs, but he was not a fool. He knew that Clare Kenwardine was not the girl to attempt his captivation merely because he had shown himself susceptible. She wanted him to keep the others off, and he thought he understood this as he glanced at Lance's companion. The fellow had a coarse, red face and looked dissipated, and even Lance's well-bred air was somehow not so marked as usual. Well, he was willing that she should make any use of him that she liked. They passed the others, and after stopping to tell Kenwardine that she was going out, Clare drew back a curtain that covered part of the window. Dick stepped across the ledge and, seeing that the stairs below were iron and rather slippery, held out his hand to Clare. The curtain swung back and cut off the light, and when they were near the bottom the girl tripped and clutched him. Her hand swept downward from his shoulder across his chest and caught the outside pocket of his coat, while he grasped her waist to steady her. "Thank you," she said. "I was clumsy, but the steps are awkward and my shoes are smooth." Dick was glad it was dark, for he felt confused. The girl had rested upon him for a moment and it had given him a thrill. They crossed the broad lawn. Half of it lay in shadow, for a wood that rolled up a neighboring hillside cut off the light of the low, half moon. The air was still, it was too warm for dew, and there was a smell of flowers--stocks, Dick thought, and he remembered their pungent sweetness afterward when he recalled that night. Clare kept in the moonlight, and he noted the elusive glimmer of her white dress. She wore no hat or wrap, and the pale illumination emphasized the slenderness of her figure and lent her an ethereal grace. They stopped at a bench beneath a copper-beech, where the shadow of the leaves checkered with dark blotches the girl's white draperies and Dick's uniform. Some of the others had come out, for there were voices in the gloom. "Perhaps you wonder why I brought you here," Clare said frankly. "No," Dick answered. "If you had any reason, I'm not curious. And I'd rather be outside." "Well," she said, "the light was rather glaring and the room very hot." She paused and added: "Mr. Brandon's your cousin?" "He is, and a very good sort. He brought me to-night, but I felt that it was, perhaps, something of an intrusion when you came in." "You didn't feel that before?" Dick knew that he was on dangerous ground. He must not admit that he suspected Kenwardine's motive for receiving promiscuous guests. "Well, not to the same extent. You see, Lance knows everybody and everybody likes him. I thought I might be welcome for his sake." "It's plain that you are fond of your cousin. But why did you imagine that I should think your visit an intrusion?" Dick was glad he sat in the shadow, for his face was getting hot. He could not hint that he had expected to find a rather daring coquette--the kind of girl, in fact, one would imagine a semi-professional gambler's daughter to be. It now seemed possible that he had misjudged Kenwardine; and he had certainly misjudged Clare. The girl's surroundings were powerless to smirch her: Dick was sure of that. "Oh, well," he answered awkwardly, "although Lance obviously knows your father pretty well, it doesn't follow that he's a friend of yours." "It does not," she said in a curious tone. "But do you know the man he was with?" "I never saw him before, and somehow I don't feel anxious to improve his acquaintance." Clare laughed. "That's a quick decision, isn't it? Are you a judge of character?" she asked. "I have been badly mistaken," Dick admitted with a smile. "Still, I know the people I'm going to like. How is it I haven't seen you about? We're not very far off and most of the people in the neighborhood have driven over to our camp." "I only came home to-night, after being away for some time." Dick was relieved to learn this. He did not like to think of her living at Kenwardine's house and meeting his friends. It was scarcely half an hour since he met Clare Kenwardine, but she had, quite unconsciously he thought, strongly impressed him. In fact, he felt rather guilty about it. Since he was, in a manner, expected to marry some one else, he had no business to enjoy yielding to this stranger's charm and to thrill at her touch. They sat in silence for a few moments, and then Lance strolled up with his companion. "Don't forget the time, Dick," he remarked as he passed. "You mustn't let him keep you too long, Miss Kenwardine. He has an important errand to do for his colonel." "If you don't mind, I won't go just yet," Dick said to Clare; and understood from her silence that she did not want to dismiss him. For the first time since they were boys, he was angry with his cousin. It looked as if Lance had meant to take him away when Miss Kenwardine needed him. He was flattered to think she preferred his society to the red-faced man's, and had used him to keep the other at a distance. Well, he would stay to the last minute and protect her from the fellow, or from anybody else. A little later Kenwardine joined them, and Dick knew that he must go. Clare gave him her hand with a quick, grateful look that made his heart beat, and Lance met him as he went into the house. "You're cutting it very fine," he said. "Come along; here's your cap." "In a moment! There's an infantry man I asked over to our camp." "You haven't time to look for him," Lance answered, and good-humoredly pushed Dick into the hall. "Get off at once! A fellow I know will give me a lift home." Dick ran down the drive and a few moments later his motorcycle was humming up the road. He sped through a dark firwood, where the cool air was filled with resinous scent, and out across a hillside down which the stocked sheaves stood in silvery rows, but he noticed nothing except that the white strip of road was clear in front. His thoughts were back in the garden with Clare Kenwardine, and he could smell the clogging sweetness of the stocks. This was folly, and he changed the gear on moderate hills and altered the control when the engine did not need it, to occupy his mind; but the picture of the girl he carried away with him would not be banished. For all that, he reached Storeton Grange in time and, running up the drive, saw lights in the windows and a car waiting at the door. Getting down and stating his business, he was shown into a room where a stern-faced man in uniform sat talking to another in evening clothes. "I understand you come from Captain Hallam," said the Colonel. "Yes, sir. He sent me with some papers." "You know what they are?" "Plans of pontoons, sir." "Very well," said the Colonel, taking out a fountain pen. "Let me have them." Dick put his hand into his breastpocket, which was on the outside of his coat. The pocket was unbuttoned, and the big envelope had gone. He hurriedly felt the other pockets, but they too were empty, and his face got red. The Colonel looked hard at him, and then made a sign to the other man, who quietly went out. "You haven't got the plans! Did you leave them behind?" "No, sir," Dick said awkwardly. "I felt to see if they were in my pocket when I left the camp." The Colonel's face hardened. "Did you come straight here?" "No, sir. I had an hour or two's leave." "And spent it with your friends? Had you anything to drink?" "Yes, sir." "As much as, or more than, usual?" "Perhaps a little more," Dick said in confusion. The Colonel studied him with searching eyes; and then took some paper from a case on the table and began to write. He put the note in an envelope and gave it to Dick. "It's your Commanding Officer's business to investigate the matter and you'll take him this. Report yourself to him or to the Adjutant when you reach camp. I'll telegraph to see if you have done so." He raised his hand in sign of dismissal and Dick went out, crushed with shame, and feeling that he was already under arrest. If he were not in camp when the telegram came, he would be treated as a deserter. CHAPTER III THE PUNISHMENT On reaching camp and reporting himself, Dick was sent to his tent, where he slept until he was aroused by the bustle at reveille. He had not expected to sleep; but he was young and physically tired, and the shock of trouble had, as sometimes happens, a numbing effect. He awoke refreshed and composed, though his heart was heavy as he dressed, because he feared it was the last time that he would wear his country's uniform. The suspense was trying as he waited until the morning parade was over; then he was summoned to a tent where the Colonel and the Adjutant sat. "I have a telegram asking if you have arrived," the Colonel said in a curious, dry tone. "You must understand that you have laid yourself open to grave suspicion." "Yes," Dick answered, wondering whether the Colonel meant that it might have been better if he had run away. "Very well. You admitted having received the plans. What did you do with them?" "Buttoned them into the left pocket of my coat. When I got to Storeton, the envelope was gone." "How do you account for that?" "I can't account for it, sir." The Colonel was silent for a few moments, and then he looked fixedly at Dick. "Your statements were very unsatisfactory last night, and now that you have had time to think over the matter, I advise you to be frank. It's plain that you have been guilty of gross negligence, but that is not the worst. The drawings are of no direct use to the enemy, but if they fell into their hands they might supply a valuable hint of the use to which we mean to put the pontoons. You see what this implies?" "I don't know how we mean to use them, sir, and I don't want to hide anything." "That's a wise resolve," the Colonel answered meaningly; and Dick colored. After all, there was something he meant to hide. "You took the plans with you when you left the camp, three or four hours before you were due at Storeton," said the Adjutant. "Where did you go?" "To my cousin's rooms in the town." "Mr. Lance Brandon's," said the Adjutant thoughtfully. "Did you stay there?" "No; we dined at The George." "A well-conducted house," the Adjutant remarked. "You took some wine at dinner?" "Two glasses of light claret." "Then where did you go next?" "To the new music-hall." "And ordered drinks in the bar! Who suggested this?" "I can't remember," Dick replied with an angry flush. "Of course, I see where you're leading, but I was quite sober when I left the hall." The Adjutant's expression puzzled him. He had felt that the man was not unfriendly, and now he looked disappointed. "I'm not sure your statement makes things better," the Colonel observed with some dryness. "Did you go straight to Storeton from the hall?" "No, sir. I spent an hour at a friend's house." "Whose house was it?" Dick pondered for a few moments, and then looked up resolutely. "I must decline to answer, sir. I've lost the plans and must take the consequences; but I don't see why my private friends, who have nothing to do with it, should be involved in the trouble." The Adjutant leaned forward across the table and said something quietly to the Colonel, and neither of them spoke for the next minute or two. Dick was sensible of physical as well as mental strain as he stood stiffly in the middle of the tent. His knees felt weak, little quivers ran through his limbs, and a ray of hot sunshine struck through the hooked-back flap into his face, but he dared not relax his rigid pose. The two officers looked puzzled but grave. "Go back to your tent and stay there until I send for you," the Colonel said at last. Dick saluted and went out, and when he sat down on his camp-bed he moodily lighted a cigarette and tried to think. His military career was ended and he was ruined; but this was not what occupied him most. He was wondering whether Clare Kenwardine had taken the plans. If so, it was his duty to accuse her; but, actuated by some mysterious impulse, he had refused. The longer he thought about it, the clearer her guilt became. He was a stranger and yet she had suggested a stroll through the garden and had slipped and clutched him as they went down the steps. Her hand had rested on the pocket in which the envelope was. She was the daughter of a man who kept a private gaming house; it was not surprising that she was an adventuress and had deceived him by her clever acting. For all that, he could not condemn her; there was a shadow of doubt; and even if she were guilty, she had yielded to some strong pressure from her father. His feelings, however, were puzzling. He had spent less than an hour in her society and she had ruined him, but he knew that he would remember her as long as he lived. Dick's common sense led him to smile bitterly. He was behaving like a sentimental fool. On the whole, it was a relief when the Adjutant came in. "You must have known what the Colonel's decision would be," he said with a hint of regret. "You're to be court-martialed. If you take my advice, you'll keep nothing back." * * * * * The court-martial was over and Dick could not question the justice of its sentence--he was dismissed from the army. Indeed, it was better than he had expected. Somewhat to his surprise, the Adjutant afterward saw him alone. "I'm thankful our official duty's done," he said. "Of course, I'm taking an irregular line, and if you prefer not to talk--" "You made me feel that you wanted to be my friend," Dick replied awkwardly. "Then I may, perhaps, remark that you made a bad defense. In the army, it's better to tell a plausible tale and stick to it; we like an obvious explanation. Now if you had admitted being slightly drunk." "But I was sober!" The Adjutant smiled impatiently. "So much the worse for you! If you had been drunk, you'd have been turned out all the same, but the reason would have been, so to speak, satisfactory. Now you're tainted by a worse suspicion. Personally, I don't think the lost plans have any value, but if they had, it might have gone very hard with you." He paused and gave Dick a friendly glance. "Well, in parting, I'll give you a bit of advice. Stick to engineering, which you have a talent for." He went out and not long afterward Dick left the camp in civilian's clothes, but stopped his motorcycle on the hill and stood looking back with a pain at his heart. He saw the rows of tents stretched across the smooth pasture, the flag he had been proud to serve languidly flapping on the gentle breeze, and the water sparkling about the bridge. Along the riverside, bare-armed men in shirts and trousers were throwing up banks of soil with shovels that flashed in the strong light. He could see their cheerful brown faces and a smart young subaltern taking out a measuring line. Dick liked the boy, who now no doubt would pass him without a look, and he envied him with the keenest envy he had ever felt. He had loved his profession; and he was turned out of it in disgrace. It was evening when he stood in the spacious library at home, glad that the light was fading, as he confronted his father, who sat with grim face in a big leather chair. Dick had no brothers and sisters, and his mother had died long before. He had not lived much at home, and had been on good, more than affectionate, terms with his father. Indeed, their relations were marked by mutual indulgence, for Dick had no interest outside his profession, while Mr. Brandon occupied himself with politics and enjoyed his prominent place in local society. He was conventional and his manners were formal and dignified, but Dick thought him very much like Lance, although he had not Lance's genial humor. "Well," he said when Dick had finished, "you have made a very bad mess of things and it is, of course, impossible that you should remain here. In fact, you have rendered it difficult for me to meet my neighbors and take my usual part in public affairs." This was the line Dick had expected him to take. It was his father's pride he had wounded and not his heart. He did not know what to say and, turning his head, he looked moodily out of the open window. The lawn outside was beautifully kept and the flower-borders were a blaze of tastefully assorted colors, but there was something artificial and conventional about the garden that was as marked in the house. Somehow Dick had never really thought of the place as home. "I mean to go away," he said awkwardly. "The puzzling thing is that you should deny having drunk too much," Brandon resumed. "But I hadn't done so! You look at it as the others did. Why should it make matters better if I'd owned to being drunk?" "Drunkenness," his father answered, "is now an offense against good taste, but not long ago it was thought a rather gentlemanly vice, and a certain toleration is still extended to the man who does wrong in liquor. Perhaps this isn't logical, but you must take the world as you find it. I had expected you to learn more in the army than you seem to have picked up. Did you imagine that your promotion depended altogether upon your planning trenches and gun-pits well?" "That kind of thing is going to count in the new armies," Dick replied. "Being popular on guest-night at the mess won't help a man to hold his trench or work his gun under heavy fire." Brandon frowned. "You won't have an opportunity for showing what you can do. I don't know where you got your utilitarian, radical views; but we'll keep to the point. Where do you think of going?" "To New York, to begin with." "Why not Montreal or Cape Town?" "Well," Dick said awkwardly, "after what has happened, I'd rather not live on British soil." "Then why not try Hamburg?" Dick flushed. "You might have spared me that, sir! I lost the plans; I didn't sell them." "Very well. This interview is naturally painful to us both and we'll cut it short, but I have something to say. It will not be forgotten that you were turned out of the army, and if you succeeded me, the ugly story would be whispered when you took any public post. I cannot have our name tainted and will therefore leave the house and part of my property to your cousin. Whether you inherit the rest or not will depend upon yourself. In the meantime, I am prepared to make you an allowance, on the understanding that you stay abroad until you are sent for." Dick faced his father, standing very straight, with knitted brows. "Thank you, sir, but I will take nothing." "May I ask why?" "If you'd looked at the thing differently and shown a little kindness, it would have cut me to the quick," Dick said hoarsely. "I'm not a thief and a traitor, though I've been a fool, and it hurts to know what you think. I'm going away to-morrow and I'll get on, somehow, without your help. I don't know that I'll come back if you do send for me." "You don't seem to understand your position, but you may come to realize it before very long," Brandon replied. He got up and Dick left the library; but he did not sleep that night. It had been hard to meet his father and what he said had left a wound that would take long to heal. Now he must say good-by to Helen. This would need courage, but Dick meant to see her. It was the girl's right that she should hear his story, and he would not steal away like a cur. He did not think Helen was really fond of him, though he imagined that she would have acquiesced in her relatives' plans for them both had things been different. Now, of course, that was done with, but he must say good-by and she might show some regret or sympathy. He did not want her to suffer, but he did not think she would feel the parting much; and she would not treat him as his father had done. When he called the next morning at an old country house, he was told that Miss Massie was in the garden, and going there, he stopped abruptly at a gap in a shrubbery. Beyond the opening there was a stretch of smooth grass, checkered by moving shadow, and at one side a row of gladioli glowed against the paler bloom of yellow dahlias. Helen Massie held a bunch of the tall crimson spikes, and Dick thought as he watched her with a beating heart that she was like the flowers. They were splendid in form and color, but there was nothing soft or delicate in their aggressive beauty. Helen's hair was dark and her color high, her black eyes were bright, and her yellow dress showed a finely outlined form. Dick knew that she was proud, resolute, and self-confident. Then she turned her head and saw him, and he knew that she had heard of his disgrace, for her color deepened and her glance was rather hard than sympathetic. The hand that held the flowers dropped to her side, but she waited until he came up. "I see you know, and it doesn't matter who told you," he said. "I felt I had to come before I went away." "Yes," she answered calmly, "I heard. You have courage, Dick; but perhaps a note would have been enough, and more considerate." Dick wondered gloomily whether she meant that he might have saved her pain by staying away, or that he had involved her in his disgrace by coming, since his visit would be talked about. He reflected bitterly that the latter was more probable. "Well," he said, "we have been pretty good friends and I'm leaving the country. I don't suppose I shall come back again." "When do you go?" "Now," said Dick. "I must catch the train at noon." Helen's manner did not encourage any indulgence in sentiment and he half resented this, although it made things easier. He could not say he had come to give her up, because there had been no formal engagement. Still he had expected some sign of pity or regret. "You don't defend yourself," she remarked thoughtfully. "Couldn't you have fought it out?" "There was nothing to fight for. I lost the papers I was trusted with; one can't get over that." "But people may imagine you did something worse." She paused for a moment and added: "Don't you care what I might think?" Dick looked at her steadily. "You ought to know. Do you believe it's possible I stole and meant to sell the plans?" "No," she said with a touch of color. "But I would have liked you, for your friends' sake, to try to clear yourself. If you had lost the papers, they would have been found and sent back; as they were not, it looks as if you had been robbed." That she could reason this out calmly struck Dick as curious, although he had long known that Helen was ruled by her brain and not her heart. "I've been careless and there's nothing to be done but take my punishment." She gave him a keen glance. "Are you hiding something, Dick? It's your duty to tell all that you suspect." Dick winced. Helen was right; it was his duty, but he was not going to carry it out. He began to see what this meant, but his resolution did not falter. "If I knew I'd been robbed, it would be different, but I don't, and if I blamed people who were found to be innocent, I'd only make matters worse for myself." "I suppose that's true," she agreed coldly. "However, you have made your choice and it's too late now. Where are you going, Dick?" "To New York by the first boat from Liverpool." He waited, watching her and wondering whether she would ask him to stop, but she said quietly: "Well, I shall, no doubt, hear how you get on." "It's unlikely," he answered in a hard voice. "I've lost my friends with my character. The best thing I can do is to leave them alone." Then he looked at his watch, and she gave him her hand. "For all that, I wish you good luck, Dick." She let him go, and as he went back to the gate he reflected that Helen had taken the proper and tactful line by dismissing him as if he were nothing more than an acquaintance. He could be nothing more now, and to yield to sentiment would have been painful and foolish; but it hurt him that she had realized this. When he wheeled his bicycle away from the gate he saw a boy who helped his father's gardener running along the road, and waited until he came up, hot and panting. The boy held out a small envelope. "It came after you left, Mr. Dick," he gasped. "Then you have been very quick." The lad smiled, for Dick was a favorite with his father's servants. "I thought you'd like to have the note," he answered, and added awkwardly: "Besides, I didn't see you when you went." It was the first hint of kindness Dick had received since his disgrace and he took the lad's hand before he gave him half a crown, though he knew that he must practise stern economy. "Thank you and good-by, Jim. You must have taken some trouble to catch me," he said. Then he opened the envelope and his look softened. "I heard of your misfortune and am very sorry, but something tells me that you are not to blame," the note ran, and was signed "Clare Kenwardine." For a moment or two Dick was sensible of keen relief and satisfaction; and then his mood changed. This was the girl who had robbed and ruined him; she must think him a fool! Tearing up the note, he mounted his bicycle and rode off to the station in a very bitter frame of mind. CHAPTER IV ADVERSITY When he had sold his motorcycle at Liverpool, Dick found it would be prudent to take a third-class passage, but regretted this as soon as the liner left the St. George's channel. The food, though badly served, was good of its kind, and his berth was comfortable enough for a man who had lived under canvas, but when the hatches were closed on account of bad weather the foul air of the steerage sickened him and the habits of his companions left much to be desired. It was difficult to take refuge in the open air, because the steerage deck was swept by bitter spray and often flooded as the big ship lurched across the Atlantic against a western gale. A spray-cloud veiled her forward when the bows plunged into a comber's hollow side, and then as they swung up until her forefoot was clear, foam and green water poured aft in cataracts. Sometimes much of her hull before the bridge sank into the crest of a half-mile sea and lower decks and alleyways looked like rivers. The gale held all the way across, and Dick felt jaded and gloomy when they steamed into New York, a day late. He had some trouble with the immigration officers, who asked awkward questions about his occupation and his reason for giving it up, but he satisfied them at length and was allowed to land. The first few days he spent in New York helped him to realize the change in his fortunes and the difficulties he must face. Until the night he lost the plans, he had scarcely known a care; life had been made easy, and his future had looked safe. He had seldom denied himself anything; he had started well on a career he liked, and all his thoughts were centered on fitting himself for it. Extravagance was not a failing of his, but he had always had more money than would satisfy his somewhat simple needs. Now, however, there was an alarming difference. To begin with, it was obvious that he could only stay for a very limited time at the cheap hotel he went to, and his efforts to find employment brought him sharp rebuffs. Business men who needed assistance asked him curt questions about his training and experience, and when he could not answer satisfactorily promptly got rid of him. Then he tried manual labor and found employment almost as hard to get. The few dollars he earned at casual jobs did not pay his board at the hotel where he lived in squalid discomfort, but matters got worse when he was forced to leave it and take refuge in a big tenement house, overcrowded with unsavory foreigners from eastern Europe. New York was then sweltering under a heat wave, and he came home, tired by heavy toil or sickened by disappointment, to pass nights of torment in a stifling, foul-smelling room. He bore it for some weeks and then, when his small stock of money was melting fast, set off to try his fortune in the manufacturing towns of Pennsylvania and Ohio. Here he found work was to be had, but the best paid kind was barred to untrained men by Trade-union rules, and the rest was done by Poles and Ruthenians, who led a squalid semi-communistic life in surroundings that revolted him. Still, he could not be fastidious and took such work as he could get, until one rainy evening when he walked home dejectedly after several days of enforced idleness. A labor agent's window caught his eye and he stopped amidst the crowd that jostled him on the wet sidewalk to read the notices displayed. One ticket stated that white men, and particularly live mechanics, were wanted for a job down South, but Dick hesitated for a few minutes, fingering a dollar in his pocket. Carefully spent, it would buy him his supper and leave something towards his meals next day, and he had been walking about since morning without food. If he went without his supper, the agent, in exchange for the dollar, would give him the address of the man who wanted help, but Dick knew from experience that it did not follow that he would be engaged. Still, one must risk something and the situation was getting desperate. He entered the office and a clerk handed him a card. "It's right across the town, but you'd better get there quick," he said. "The job's a snap and I've sent a lot of men along." Dick boarded a street-car that took him part of the way, but he had to walk the rest, and was tired and wet when he reached an office in a side street. A smart clerk took the card and gave him a critical glance. "It looks as if we were going to be full up, but I'll put down your name and you can come back in the morning," he remarked. "What do you call yourself?" "A civil engineer," said Dick. "But where is the job and what's the pay?" "I guess Central America is near enough; mighty fine country, where rum's good and cheap. Pay'll pan out about two-fifty, or perhaps three dollars if you're extra smart." "You can get as much here," Dick objected, thinking it unwise to seem eager. "Then why don't you get it?" the clerk inquired. "Anyhow, you won't be charged for board and all you'll have to do is to drive breeds and niggers. It's a soft thing, sure, but you can light out now and come back if you feel it's good enough for you to take your chance." Dick went away, and had reached the landing when a man who wore loose, gray clothes and a big, soft hat, met him. "What do you want?" he asked. "I've been applying for the job in the South." The other gave him a searching glance and Dick thought he noted his anxious look and wet and shabby clothes. "What can you do?" he resumed. "To begin with, I can measure cubic quantities, plan out excavating work, and use the level. If this kind of thing's not wanted, I can handle a spade." "Where have you done your digging?" "In this city. Laying sewers for a contractor, who, the boys said, had to squeeze us to make good the graft he put up to get the job." The other nodded. "That's so; I know the man. You can use a spade all right if you satisfied him. But the sewer's not finished yet; why did you quit?" "The foreman fired three or four of us to make room for friends that a saloon-keeper who commands some votes sent along." "Well," said the other, smiling, "you seem to understand how our city bosses fix these things. But my job will mean pretty tough work. Are you sure you want it?" "I can't find another," Dick answered frankly. "Very well, I'll put you on. Look round to-morrow and get your orders. I've a notion that you're up against it; here's a dollar on account." Dick took the money. He rather liked the man, whose abruptness was disarmed by his twinkling smile. For the first time, with one exception, during his search for employment, he had been treated as a human being instead of an instrument for doing a certain amount of work. It was raining hard when he reached the street, and supper would be over before he arrived at his cheap hotel, where one must eat at fixed times or wait for the next meal. There was, however, a small restaurant with an Italian name outside a few blocks further on, and going in he was served with well-cooked food and afterwards sat in a corner smoking and thinking hard. He now felt more cheerful; but the future was dark and he realized the difficulties in his path. American industry was highly organized. The man who hoped for advancement must specialize and make himself master of some particular branch. Dick had specialized in England, and thought he knew his subject, but could not use his knowledge. The Americans to whom he tried to sell it would have none of him, and Dick owned that he could not blame them; since it was natural to suppose that the man who was unfaithful to his country would not be loyal to his employer. When he looked for other openings, he found capital and labor arrayed in hostile camps. There was mechanical work he was able to do, but this was not allowed, because the organized workers, who had fought stubbornly for a certain standard of comfort, refused to let untrained outsiders share the benefits they had won. Business was left; but it needed money, and if he tried to enter it as a clerk, he must first obtain smart clothes and find somebody to certify his ability and character, which was impossible. It looked as if he must be content with manual labor. The wages it commanded were not low and he was physically strong, but he shrank from the lives the lower ranks of toilers led when their work was done. The crowded bunk-house and squalid tenement revolted him. Still, he was young and optimistic; his luck might change when he went South and chance give him an opportunity of breaking through the barriers that shut him in. He sat in the corner, pondering, until it got late and the tired Italian politely turned him out. Next morning he joined a group of waiting men at the railroad station. They had a dejected look as they sat upon their bundles outside the agent's office, except for three or four who were cheerfully drunk. Their clothes were shabby and of different kinds, for some wore cheap store-suits and some work-stained overalls. It was obvious that adversity had brought them together, and Dick did not think they would make amiable companions. About half appeared to be Americans, but he could not determine the nationality of the rest, who grumbled in uncouth English with different accents. By and by the clerk whom Dick had met came out of the office with a bundle of tickets, which he distributed, and soon afterwards the train rolled into the depot. Dick was not pleased to find that a car had been reserved for the party, since he would sooner have traveled with the ordinary passengers. Indeed, when a dispute began as the train moved slowly through the wet street, he left the car. In passing through the next, he met the conductor, who asked for his ticket, and after tearing off a section of the long paper, gave him a card, which he gruffly ordered him to stick in his hat. Then he put his hand on Dick's shoulder, and pushed him back through the vestibule. "That's your car behind and you'll stop right there," he said. "Next time you come out we'll put you off the train." Dick resigned himself, but stopped on the front platform and looked back as the train jolted across a rattling bridge. A wide, yellow river ran beneath it, and the tall factories and rows of dingy houses were fading in the rain and smoke on the other side. Dick watched them until they grew indistinct, and then his heart felt lighter. He had endured much in the grimy town; but all that was over. After confronting, with instinctive shrinking, industry's grimmest aspect, he was traveling toward the light and glamour of the South. Entering the smoking compartment, he found the disturbance had subsided, and presently fell into talk with a man on the opposite seat who asked for some tobacco. He told Dick he was a locomotive fireman, but had got into trouble, the nature of which he did not disclose. Dick never learned much more about his past than this, but their acquaintance ripened and Kemp proved a useful friend. It was getting dark when they reached an Atlantic port and were lined up on the terminal platform by a man who read out a list of their names. He expressed his opinion of them with sarcastic vigor when it was discovered that three of the party had left the train on the way; and then packed the rest into waiting automobiles, which conveyed them to the wharf as fast as the machines would go. "Guess you won't quit this journey. The man who jumps off will sure get hurt," he remarked as they started. In spite of his precautions, another of the gang was missing when they alighted, and Kemp, the fireman, grinned at Dick. "That fellow's not so smart as he allows," he said. "He'd have gone in the last car, where he could see in front, if he'd known his job." They were hustled up a steamer's gangway and taken to the after end of the deck, where their conductor turned his back on them for a few minutes while he spoke to a mate. "Now's your time," said Kemp, "if you feel you want to quit." Dick looked about. The spar-deck, on which the boats were stowed, covered the spot where he stood, and the passage beneath the stanchions was dark. There was nobody at the top of the gangway under the big cargo-lamp, and its illumination did not carry far across the wharf. If he could reach the latter, he would soon be lost in the gloom, and he was sensible of a curious impulse that urged him to flight. It almost amounted to panic, and he imagined that the other men's desertion must have daunted him. For a few moments he struggled with the feeling and then conquered it. "No," he said firmly; "I'll see the thing through." Kemp nodded. "Well, I guess it's too late now." Two seamen, sent by the mate, went to the top of the gangway, and the fellow who had brought the party from the station stood on guard near. Dick afterward realized that much depended on the choice he swiftly made and wondered whether it was quite by chance he did so. "You were pretty near going," his companion resumed. "Yes," said Dick, thoughtfully; "I believe I was. As a matter of fact, I don't know why I stopped." The other smiled. "I've felt like that about risky jobs I took. Sometimes I lit out, and sometimes I didn't, but found out afterward I was right either way. If you feel you have to go, the best thing you can do is to get a move on." Dick agreed with this. He did not understand it, but knew that while he had still had time to escape down the gangway and felt strongly tempted to do so, it was impressed upon him that he must remain. A few minutes later their conductor left them with a sarcastic farewell, the ropes were cast off, and the steamer swung out from the wharf. When, with engines throbbing steadily, she headed down the bay, Dick went to his berth, and on getting up next morning found the American coast had sunk to a low, gray streak to starboard. A fresh southwest breeze was blowing under a cloudy sky and the vessel, rolling viciously, lurched across the white-topped combers of the warm Gulf Stream. After breakfast, some of his companions gathered into listless, grumbling groups, and some brought out packs of greasy cards, but Dick sat by himself, wondering with more buoyant feelings what lay before him. He had known trouble and somehow weathered it, and now he was bound to a country where the sun was shining. It was pleasant to feel the soft air on his face and the swing of the spray-veiled bows. After all, good fortune might await him down South. CHAPTER V THE CONCRETE TRUCK It was very hot in the deep hollow that pierced the mountain range behind Santa Brigida on the Caribbean Sea. The black peaks cut against a glaring sky and the steep slopes of red soil and volcanic cinders on one side of the ravine were dazzlingly bright. The other was steeped in blue shadow that scarcely seemed to temper the heat, and the dark-skinned men who languidly packed the ballast among the ties of a narrow-gage railroad that wound up the hill panted as they swung their shovels. At its lower end, the ravine opened on to a valley that got greener as it ran down to the glittering sea, on the edge of which feathery palms clustered round Santa Brigida. The old city, dominated by its twin, cathedral towers, shone ethereally white in the distance, with a narrow fringe of flashing surf between it and the vivid blue of the Caribbean. It was a thriving place, as the black dots of steamers in the roadstead showed, for of late years American enterprise had broken in upon its lethargic calm. The population was, for the most part, of Spanish stock that had been weakened by infusions of Indian and negro blood, but there were a number of Chinamen, and French Creoles. Besides these, Americans, Britons, and European adventurers had established themselves, and the town was a hotbed of commercial and political intrigue. The newcomers were frankly there for what they could get and fought cunningly for trading and agricultural concessions. The leading citizens of comparatively pure Spanish strain despised the grasping foreigners in their hearts, but as a rule took their money and helped them in their plots. Moreover, they opened a handsome casino and less reputable gambling houses with the object of collecting further toll. Such wealth as the country enjoyed was largely derived from the fertile soil, but the district about Santa Brigida was less productive than the rest and had been long neglected. There was rain enough all round, but much of the moisture condensed on the opposite side of the range and left the slopes behind the town comparatively arid. To remedy this an irrigation scheme was being carried out by American capitalists, and the narrow-gage railroad formed part of the undertaking. A man dressed in rather baggy, gray clothes and a big, soft hat sat in the shadow of the rock. His thin face had been recently browned by the sun, for the paler color where his hat shaded it showed that he was used to a northern climate. Though his pose was relaxed and he had a cigar in his mouth, there was a hint of energy about him and he was following the curves of the railroad with keenly observant eyes. A girl in white dress of fashionable cut sat near him, holding a green-lined sunshade, for although they were in the shadow the light was strong. The likeness between them indicated they were father and daughter. "I expect you're feeling it pretty hot," Fuller remarked. "It is not oppressive and I rather like the brightness," the girl replied. "Besides, it's cool enough about the tent after the sun goes behind the range. Of course, you are used to the climate." "I was, but that was twenty-four years ago and before you were born. Got my first lift with the ten thousand dollars I made in the next state down this coast, besides the ague and shivers that have never quite left me. However, it's pretty healthy up here, and I guess it ought to suit Jake all right." Ida Fuller looked thoughtful, and her pensive expression added to the charm of her attractive face. She had her father's keen eyes, but they were, like her hair, a soft dark-brown; and the molding of brows and nose and mouth was rather firm than delicate. While her features hinted at decision of character, there was nothing aggressive in her look, which, indeed, was marked by a gracious calm. Though she was tall, her figure was slender. "Yes," she agreed, "if he would stay up here!" Fuller nodded. "I'd have to fix him up with work enough to keep him busy, and ask for a full-length report once a week. That would show me what he was doing and he'd have to stick right to his job to find out what was going on." "Unless he got somebody to tell him, or perhaps write the report. Jake, you know, is smart." "You're fond of your brother, but I sometimes think you're a bit hard on him. I admit I was badly riled when they turned him down from Yale, but it was a harmless fool-trick he played, and when he owned up squarely I had to let it go." "That's Jake's way. You can't be angry with him. Still, perhaps, it's a dangerous gift. It might be better for him if he got hurt now and then." Fuller, who did not answer, watched her, as she pondered. Her mother had died long ago, and Fuller, who was largely occupied by his business, knew that Jake might have got into worse trouble but for the care Ida had exercised. He admitted that his daughter, rather than himself, had brought up the lad, and her influence had been wholly for good. By and by she glanced at Santa Brigida. "It's the casino and other attractions down there I'm afraid of. If you had some older man you could trust to look after Jake, one would feel more satisfied." "Well," said Fuller with a twinkle, "there's nobody I know who could fill the bill, and I'm not sure the older men are much steadier than the rest." He stopped as a puff of smoke rose at the lower end of the ravine and moved up the hill. Then a flash of twinkling metal broke out among the rocks, and Ida saw that a small locomotive was climbing the steep track. "She's bringing up concrete blocks for the dam," Fuller resumed. "We use them large in the lower courses, and I had the bogie car they're loaded on specially built for the job; but I'm afraid we'll have to put down some pieces of the line again. The grade's pretty stiff and the curves are sharp." Ida was not bored by these details. She liked her father to talk to her about his business, and her interest was quickly roused. Fuller, who was proud of her keen intelligence, told her much, and she knew the importance of the irrigation scheme he had embarked upon. Land in the arid belt could be obtained on favorable terms and, Fuller thought, be made as productive as that watered by the natural rainfall. It was, however, mainly because he had talked about finding her scapegrace brother employment on the work that Ida had made him take her South. As she glanced at the track she noted that room for it had been dug out of the hillside, which was seamed by gullies that the rails twisted round. The loose soil, consisting largely of volcanic cinders, appeared to offer a very unsafe support. It had slipped away here and there, leaving gaps between the ties, which were unevenly laid and at the sharper bends overhung the steep slope below. In the meantime, the small locomotive came nearer, panting loudly and throwing up showers of sparks, and Ida remarked how the rails bent and then sprang up again as the truck, which carried two ponderous blocks of stone, rolled over them. The engine rocked, sparks flashed among the wheels as their flanges bit the curves, and she wondered what the driver felt or if he had got used to his rather dangerous work. As a matter of fact, Dick Brandon, who drove the engine, felt some nervous strain. He had applied for the post at Kemp's suggestion, after the latter had given him a few lessons in locomotive work, and had since been sorry that he had obtained it. Still he had now a room to himself at the shed where the engine was kept, and a half-breed fireman to help him with the heavier part of his task. He preferred this to living in a hot bunk-house and carrying bags of cement in the grinding mill, though he knew there was a certain risk of his plunging down the ravine with his engine. The boiler primed when he started and was not steaming well. The pistons banged alarmingly as they compressed the water that spurted from the drain-cocks, and his progress was marked by violent jerks that jarred the couplings of the bogie truck. Though Dick only wore a greasy shirt and overall trousers, he felt the oppressive heat, and his eyes ached with the glare as he gazed up the climbing track. The dust that rolled about the engine dimmed the glasses, the footplate rattled, and it looked as if his fireman was performing a clumsy dance. By and by he rather doubtfully opened the throttle to its widest. If the boiler primed again, he might knock out the cylinder-heads, but there was a steep pitch in front that was difficult to climb. The short locomotive rocked and hammered, the wheels skidded and gripped again, and Dick took his hand from the lever to dash the sweat from his eyes. They were going up, and he would be past the worst if he could get his load round the curve ahead. They were half way round when there was a clang behind him and the engine seemed to leap forward. Glancing over his shoulder as he shut off steam, Dick saw the fireman gazing back, and a wide gap between the concrete blocks and his load of coal. The couplings had snapped as they strained round the bend and the truck would run down the incline until it smashed through the sheds that held the grinding and mixing plant at the bottom. He saw that prompt action was needed, and reversing the machinery, gave the fireman an order in uncouth Castilian. The fellow looked at him stupidly, as if his nerve had failed, or he thought the order too risky to obey. There was only one thing to be done, and since it must be done at once, Dick must undertake it himself. The engine was now running down the line after the truck, which had not gathered much speed yet, and he climbed across the coal and dropped upon the rear buffer-frame. Balancing himself upon it, he waited until the gap between him and the truck got narrower, and then put his hand on top of the concrete and swung himself across. He got his foot upon the side of the car and made his way along, holding the top of the block, while the dust rolled about him and he thought he would be jolted off. Indeed, there was only an inch-wide ledge of smooth iron to support his foot, which slipped once or twice; but he reached the brake-gear and screwed it down. Then, crawling back, he hooked on the spare coupling and returned, breathless and shaky, to his engine. A minute or two later he brought it to a stop and had got down upon the line when somebody called him. Looking round, he saw Fuller standing near, and knew him as the man who had given him the dollar in the American town. He had heard that his employer had come out to see what progress was being made, but had not yet encountered him. He did not notice Ida, who was sitting in the shadow of the rock. "You were smart," said Fuller. "There'd have been an ugly smash if the blocks had got away down the grade. But why didn't you stick to the throttle and send your fireman?" "I don't think he understood what he ought to do, and there was no time to explain." Fuller nodded. "So you did it yourself! But why didn't you push the car? You could have held her up better then." "I couldn't get behind it. The loop-track down at the switches has caved in." "I see. But it's a stiff grade and you didn't seem to be hustling your engine much." "The boiler was priming and I was afraid of the cylinders." "Just so. You pumped up the water pretty high?" "No; it was at the usual working level," said Dick, who paused and resumed thoughtfully: "I can't account for the thing. Why does a boiler prime?" There are one or two obvious reasons for a boiler's priming; that is to say, throwing water as well as steam into the engine, but this sometimes happens when no cause can be assigned, and Fuller saw that Dick did not expect an answer to his question. It was rather an exclamation, prompted by his failure to solve a fascinating problem, and as such indicated that his interest in his task was not confined to the earning of a living. Fuller recognized the mind of the engineer. "Well," he replied, "there's a good deal we don't know yet about the action of fluids under pressure. But do you find the grade awkward when she's steaming properly?" "I can get up. Still, I think it will soon cost you as much in extra fuel as it would to relay this bit of line. Two hundred cubic yards cut out at the bend would make things much easier." "Two hundred yards?" said Fuller, studying the spot. "Two hundred and fifty at the outside," Dick answered confidently, and then felt embarrassed as he saw Miss Fuller for the first time. His clothes were few and dirty and he was awkwardly conscious that his hands and face were black. But his employer claimed his attention. "What would you reckon the weight of the stuff?" Dick told him after a short silence, and Fuller asked: "Two-thousand-pound tons?" "Yes; I turned it into American weight." "Well," said Fuller, "you must get on with your job now, but come up to my tent after supper." Dick started his locomotive, and when it panted away up the incline Fuller looked at his daughter with a smile. "What do you think of that young man?" "He has a nice face. Of course he's not the type one would expect to find driving a locomotive." "Pshaw!" said Fuller. "I'm not talking about his looks." "Nor am I, in the way you mean," Ida rejoined. "I thought he looked honest, though perhaps reliable is nearest what I felt. Then he was very professional." Fuller nodded. "That's what I like. The man who puts his job before what he gets for it naturally makes the best work. What do you think of his manner?" "It was good; confident, but not assertive, with just the right note of deference," Ida answered, and then laughed. "It rather broke down after he saw me." "That's not surprising, anyhow. I expect he's used to wearing different clothes and more of them when he meets stylish young women. It doesn't follow that the young fellow isn't human because he's professional. However, I want to see what the boys are doing farther on." CHAPTER VI A STEP UP Dusk was falling when Dick went to keep his appointment with his employer. Fireflies glimmered in the brush beside the path, and the lights of Santa Brigida flashed in a brilliant cluster on the edge of the shadowy sea. High above, rugged peaks cut black against the sky, and the land breeze that swept their lower slopes brought with it instead of coolness a warm, spicy smell. There was more foliage when Dick reached the foot of a projecting spur, for a dark belt of forest rolled down the hill; and by and by he saw a big tent, that gleamed with a softened radiance like a paper lantern, among a clump of palms. It seemed to be well lighted inside, and Dick remembered having heard orders for electric wires to be connected with the power-house at the dam. Fuller obviously meant to give his daughter all the civilized comfort possible, and Dick was glad he had been able to find a clean duck suit, though he was not sure he had succeeded in removing all the oily grime from his face. Nothing could be done with his hands. The knuckles were scarred, the nails broken, and the black grease from the engine had worked into his skin. Still, this did not matter much, because he had gradually overcome his fastidiousness and it was not likely that Miss Fuller would notice him. She was, however, sitting outside the tent, from which an awning extended so as to convert its front into a covered veranda, and Dick was half surprised when she gave him a smile of recognition that warranted his taking off his hat. Then Fuller, beckoning him to come forward, switched on another lamp and the light fell on a table covered with plans. Dick stopped when he reached it and waited, not knowing how his employer meant to receive him. "Sit down," said Fuller, indicating a chair, and then gave him one of the plans, some paper, and a fountain pen. "Study that piece of digging and let me know the weight of stuff to be moved, the number of men you'd use, and what you think the job would cost." Dick set to work, and at once became absorbed. Twenty minutes passed and he did not move or speak, nor did he see the smile with which Ida answered Fuller's look. In another ten minutes he put down the pen and gave Fuller his calculations. "I think that's near it, sir. I'm reckoning on the use of colored peons." Fuller nodded. "You haven't left much margin for what we call contingencies. But they're going to bring us some coffee. Will you take a cigar?" A Chinaman brought out a silver coffee-pot on a tray, which he placed on a folding table in front of Ida, and since it was two or three yards from the other, Dick got up when she filled the cups. She gave him two, which he carried back, but remained where she was, within hearing but far enough away not to obtrude her society upon the others. Dick, who lighted his cigar, felt grateful to Fuller. It was some time since he had met people of any refinement on friendly terms, and until he took up his quarters in the locomotive shed had been living in squalor and dirt. There was not much furniture outside the tent, but the neat folding tables, comfortable canvas chairs, delicate china, and silver coffee-pot gave the place a luxurious look, and though Miss Fuller was, so to speak, outside the circle, the presence of a well-dressed, attractive girl had its charm. Indeed, Dick felt half embarrassed by the pleasantness of his surroundings. They were unusual and reminded him poignantly of the privileges he had enjoyed in England. "Where did you learn to make these calculations?" Fuller asked after a time. "In the British Army, Royal Engineers," Dick answered with a flush. "Were you an officer?" Dick had dreaded the question. It looked as if truthfulness would cost him much; but he determined that his new friends should know the worst. "Yes." "Then why did you quit?" Dick glanced at Ida, and imagined that she was interested, though she did not look up. "I was turned out, sir." "Ah!" said Fuller, without surprise. "May I ask why? It's not impertinent curiosity." "I was sent with some important papers, which I lost. This was bad enough, but there was some ground for suspecting that I had stolen them." "Do you know how they were lost?" Dick was grateful for the way the question was put, since it hinted that Fuller did not doubt his honesty. "No," he said. "That is, I have a notion, but I'm afraid I'll never quite find out." Fuller did not reply for a minute or two, and Dick, whose face was rather hot, glanced back at Ida. Her eyes were now fixed on him with quiet interest, and something in her expression indicated approval. "Well," said Fuller, "I'm going to give you a chance of making good, because if you had done anything crooked, you wouldn't have told me that tale. You'll quit driving the locomotive and superintend on a section of the dam. I'm not satisfied with the fellow who's now in charge. He's friendly with the dago sub-contractors and I suspect I'm being robbed." Dick's eyes sparkled. His foot was on the ladder that led to success; and he did not mean to stay at the bottom. Moreover, it caused him an exhilarating thrill to feel that he was trusted again. "I'll do my best, sir," he said gratefully. "Very well; you'll begin to-morrow, and can use the rooms behind the iron office shack. But there's something you have forgotten." Dick looked at him with a puzzled air; and Fuller laughed. "You haven't asked what I'm going to pay you yet." "No," said Dick. "To tell the truth, it didn't seem to matter." "Profession comes first?" Fuller suggested. "Well, that's right, but I've hired professional men, engineering and medical experts, who charged pretty high. Anyhow, here's my offer--" Dick was satisfied, as was Fuller. The latter was often generous and would not have taken unfair advantage of Dick's necessity, but he did not object to engaging a talented young man at something below the market rate. "While I'm here you'll come over twice a week to report," he resumed. "And now if there's anything you'd like to ask." "First of all, I owe you a dollar," Dick remarked, putting the money on the table. "The pay-clerk wouldn't take it, because he said it would mix up his accounts. I'm glad to pay you back, but this doesn't cancel the debt." "It wasn't a big risk. I thought you looked played out." "I was played out and hungry. In fact, it took me five minutes to make up my mind whether I'd pay the agent who gave me your address his fee, because it meant going without a meal." Fuller nodded. "Did you hesitate again, after you knew you'd got the job?" "I did. When we were hustled on board the steamer, there was nobody at the gangway for a few moments and I felt I wanted to run away. There didn't seem to be any reason for this, but I very nearly went." "That kind of thing's not quite unusual," Fuller answered with a smile. "In my early days, when every dollar was of consequence, I often had a bad time after I'd made a risky deal. Used to think I'd been a fool, and I'd be glad to pay a smart fine if the other party would let me out. Yet if he'd made the proposition, I wouldn't have clinched with it." "Such vacillation doesn't seem logical, in a man," Ida interposed. "Don't you practical people rather pride yourselves on being free from our complexities? Still I suppose there is an explanation." "I'm not a philosopher," Fuller replied. "If you have the constructive faculty, it's your business to make things and not examine your feelings; but my explanation's something like this--When you take a big risk you have a kind of unconscious judgment that tells you if you're right, but human nature's weak, and scares you really don't believe in begin to grip. Then it depends on your nerve whether you make good or not." "Don't they call it sub-conscious?" Ida asked. "And how does that judgment come?" "I guess it's built up on past experience, on things you've learned long since and stored away. In a sense, they're done with, you don't call them up and argue from them; but all the same, they're the driving force when you set your teeth and go ahead." Ida looked at Dick. "That can't apply to us, who have no long experience to fall back upon." "I've only made one venture of the kind, but I've just discovered that it turned out right." Fuller smiled. "That's neat." Then he turned to Ida. "But I wasn't talking about women. They don't need experience." "Sometimes you're merely smart, and sometimes you're rather deep, but I can't decide which you are just now," Ida rejoined. "However, I expect you're longing to get back to the plans." "No," said Fuller. "They have to be thought of, but life isn't all a matter of building dams. Now I'm getting old, I've found that out." "And you? Have you any opinion on the subject?" Ida asked Dick. Dick hesitated, wondering whether she meant to put him at his ease or was amused by his seriousness. "I don't imagine my views are worth much and they're not very clear. In a way, of course, it's plain that Mr. Fuller's right--" "But after all, building dams and removing rocks may very well come first?" Dick pondered this. So far, his profession had certainly come first. He was not a prig or a recluse, but he found engineering more interesting than people. Now he came to think of it, he had been proud of Helen's beauty, but she had not stirred him much or occupied all his thoughts. Indeed, he had only once been overwhelmingly conscious of a woman's charm, and that was in Kenwardine's garden. He had lost his senses then, but did not mean to let anything of the kind happen again. "Well," he said diffidently, "so long as you're content with your occupation, it doesn't seem necessary to make experiments and look for adventures. I expect it saves you trouble to stick to what you like and know." He noted Ida's smile, and was silent afterwards while she argued with her father. He did not want to obtrude himself, and since they seemed to expect him to stay, it was pleasant enough to sit and listen. The air was getting cooler and the moon had risen and cast a silver track across the sea. The distant rumble of the surf came up the hillside in a faint, rhythmic beat, and the peaks above the camp had grown in distinctness. A smell of spice drifted out of the jungle, and Dick, who was tired, was sensible of a delightful languor. The future had suddenly grown bright and besides this, Ida's gracious friendliness had given him back his confidence and self-respect. He was no longer an outcast; he had his chance of making good and regaining the amenities of life that he had learned to value by their loss. He was very grateful to the girl and Fuller, but at length took his leave and returned to the locomotive shed with a light heart and a springy step. Next morning he began his new work with keen energy. It absorbed him, and as the dam slowly rose in a symmetrical curve of molded stone, its austere beauty commanded his attention. Hitherto he had given utility the leading place, but a change had begun the night he sat beneath the copper-beech with Clare Kenwardine. The design of the structure was good, but Dick determined that the work should be better, and sometimes stopped in the midst of his eager activity to note the fine, sweeping lines and silvery-gray luster of the concrete blocks. There were soft lights at dawn and when the sun sank in which the long embankment glimmered as if carved in mother-of-pearl. In the meantime, he went to Fuller's tent twice a week and generally met Ida there. Once or twice, he pleaded with his employer for extra labor and cement to add some grace of outline to the dam, and, although this was unproductive expenditure, Fuller agreed. "I like a good job, but it's going to cost high if you mean to turn out a work of art," he said. "However, if Bethune thinks the notion all right, I suppose I'll have to consent." Dick colored, and wondered whether he had been given a hint, for Bethune was his superior and a man of ability. "He doesn't object, sir." "That's good," Fuller replied with a twinkle. "Still, if you hustle him too much, you'll make him tired." Dick did not smile, because he did not know how far it was wise to go, but he suspected that Bethune had been tired before he came to the dam. The latter was generally marked by an air of languid indifference, and while his work was well done he seldom exceeded his duty. Next evening Dick went to see Bethune and found him lying in a hammock hung between the posts of the veranda of his galvanized iron hut. A syphon and a tall glass filled with wine in which a lump of ice floated, stood on a table within his reach, and an open book lay upside down upon the floor. He wore white duck trousers, a green shirt of fine material, and a red sash very neatly wound round his waist. His face was sunburned, but the features were delicately cut and his hands, which hung over the edge of the hammock, were well cared for. "Mix yourself a drink," he said to Dick. "There's a glass and some ice in the bureau inside. Anyhow my steward boy put some there." Dick, who went into the hut, came back with a grin. "There's a bit of wet blanket, but the ice has gone. It seems to have run into your papers." "They'll dry," Bethune said tranquilly. "You had better put some of the _gaseosa_ in the wine; it's sour Spanish _tinto_. Then if you like to pick up the book, I'll read you some François Villon. There was red blood in that fellow and it's a pity he's dead. You get into touch with him better beside the Spanish Main than you can in New York." "I never heard of him, and perhaps I ought to explain----" "What you came for? Then go ahead and ease your mind. It's business first with you." "It occurred to me that I had perhaps taken too much upon myself now and then. You are my chief, of course, and I don't want to look pushing." "That shows good taste," Bethune remarked. "But how are you going to get over the difficulty that you _are_ what you call pushing? Anyhow, I'm surprised it did occur to you." "To tell the truth, it was something Fuller said----" "So I imagined! Well, when you go too far I'll pull you up, but we needn't bother about it in the meantime. You were obviously born a hustler, but you have an ingenuousness that disarms resentment. In fact, you quite upset our views of the British character." "Then the feeling's mutual," Dick rejoined with a grin. "You don't harmonize with what I've seen of Americans." "Ours is a big country and we've room for different types; but I come from Georgia and we haven't all learned to hustle yet in the South. That's probably why I'm here, when I could have had a much better paid job." Dick did not doubt this, because he had seen something of the other's mathematical powers. He was not a fool at figures himself, but Bethune could solve by a flash of genius problems that cost him laborious calculation. It was strange that such a man should be content to make a very modest use of his talents. "I suppose you have met Miss Fuller," Bethune resumed. "Yes," said Dick. "She made things pleasant for me when I first went to the tent. I like her very much." "Miss Fuller has most of the New England virtues, including a stern sense of her responsibility. I expect you don't know if she shares her father's good opinion of yourself." "I don't know what Fuller's opinion is," Dick replied awkwardly. Bethune laughed. "Well, he's given you a good job. But why I asked was this: if Miss Fuller's quite satisfied about you, she'll probably put her maverick brother in your charge. She came here not long ago with the object of finding out if I was suited for the post, and I imagined learned something about me in a quiet way. It was a relief when she obviously decided that I wasn't the proper man. The girl has intelligence. If she had asked me, I could have recommended you." "Do you know much about her brother?" "I've learned something. The lad's a breakaway from the sober Fuller type; and I think his views of life rather agree with mine. However, perhaps we had better let Miss Fuller tell you what she thinks fit. And now would you like some François Villon?" "No," said Dick firmly. "I want to see that Moran turns out his gang at sunrise and must get back." "Pick me up the book, anyhow," Bethune replied, and laughed good-humoredly when Dick left him. CHAPTER VII DICK UNDERTAKES A RESPONSIBILITY The glare of the big arc-lights flooded the broad, white plaza when Dick crossed it on his way to the Hotel Magellan. The inhabitants of Santa Brigida had finished their evening meal and, as was their custom, were taking the air and listening to the military band. They were of many shades of color and different styles of dress, for dark-skinned peons in plain white cotton, chattering negroes, and grave, blue-clad Chinamen mingled with the citizens who claimed to spring from European stock. These, however, for the most part, were by no means white, and though some derived their sallow skin from Andalusian and Catalan ancestors, others showed traces of Carib origin. The men were marked by Southern grace; the younger women had a dark, languorous beauty, and although their dress was, as a rule, an out of date copy of Parisian modes, their color taste was good, and the creamy white and soft yellow became them well. A number of the men wore white duck, with black or red sashes and Panama hats, but some had Spanish cloaks and Mexican sombreros. Flat-topped houses, colored white and pink and lemon, with almost unbroken fronts, ran round the square. A few had green lattices and handsome iron gates to the arched entrances that ran like a tunnel through the house, but many showed no opening except a narrow slit of barred window. Santa Brigida was old, and the part near the plaza had been built four hundred years ago. Dick glanced carelessly at the crowd as he crossed the square. He liked the music, and there was something interesting and exotic in the play of moving color, but his mind was on his work and he wondered whether he would find a man he wanted at the hotel. One could enter it by a Moorish arch that harmonized with the Eastern style of its front; but this had been added, and he went in by the older tunnel and across the patio to the open-fronted American bar that occupied a space between the balcony pillars. He did not find his man, and after ordering some wine, lighted a cigarette and looked about while he waited to see if the fellow would come in. One or two steamship officers occupied a table close by, a Frenchman was talking excitedly to a handsome Spanish half-breed, and a fat, red-faced German with spectacles sat opposite a big glass of pale-colored beer. Dick was not interested in these, but his glance grew keener as it rested on a Spaniard, who had a contract at the irrigation works, sitting with one of Fuller's storekeepers at the other end of the room. Though there was no reason the Spaniard should not meet the man in town, Dick wondered what they were talking about, particularly since they had chosen a table away from everybody else. The man he wanted did not come, and by and by he determined to look for him in the hotel. He went up an outside staircase from the patio, round which the building ran, and had reached a balcony when he met Ida Fuller coming down. She stopped with a smile. "I am rather glad to see you," she said. "My father, who went on board the American boat, has not come back as he promised, and the French lady he left me with has gone." "I'm going off to a cargo vessel to ask when they'll land our cement, and we might find out what is keeping Mr. Fuller, if you don't mind walking to the mole." They left the hotel and shortly afterwards reached the mole, which sheltered the shallow harbor where the cargo lighters were unloaded. The long, smooth swell broke in flashes of green and gold phosphorescence against the concrete wall, and the moon threw a broad, glittering track across the sea. There was a rattle of cranes and winches and a noisy tug was towing a row of barges towards the land. The measured thud of her engines broke through the splash of water flung off the lighters' bows as they lurched across the swell, and somebody on board was singing a Spanish song. Farther out, a mailboat's gently swaying hull blazed with electric light, and astern of her the reflection of a tramp steamer's cargo lamp quivered upon the sea. By and by, Dick, who ascertained that Fuller had not landed, hailed a steam launch, which came panting towards some steps. "I can put you on board the American boat, and bring you back if Mr. Fuller isn't there," he said, and when Ida agreed, helped her into the launch. Then he took the helm while the fireman started the engine, and the craft went noisily down the harbor. As they passed the end of the mole, Dick changed his course, and the white town rose clear to view in the moonlight behind the sparkling fringe of surf. The flat-topped houses rose in tiers up a gentle slope, interspersed with feathery tufts of green and draped here and there with masses of creepers. Narrow gaps of shadow opened between them, and the slender square towers of the cathedral dominated all, but in places a steep, red roof struck a picturesque but foreign note. "Santa Brigida has a romantic look at night," Dick remarked. "Somehow it reminds me of pictures of the East." "That is not very strange," Ida answered with a smile. "The flat roof and straight, unbroken wall is the oldest type of architecture. Man naturally adopted it when he gave up the tent and began to build." "Yes," said Dick. "Two uprights and a beam across! You couldn't get anything much simpler. But how did it come here?" "The Arabs found it in Palestine and took it to Northern Africa as the Moslem conquest spread. The cube, however, isn't beautiful, and the Moors elaborated it, as the Greeks had done, but in a different way. The latter broke the square from the cornices and pillars; the Moors with the Saracenic arch, minarets, and fretted stone, and then forced their model upon Spain. Still the primitive type survives longest and the Spaniards brought that to the New World." "No doubt, it's the explanation. But the high, red roofs yonder aren't Moorish. The flat top would suit the dry East, but these indicate a country where they need a pitch that will shed the rain and snow. In fact one would imagine that the original model came from Germany." "It really did. Spain was overrun by the Visigoths, who were Teutons." "Well," said Dick, "this is interesting. I'm not an architect, but construction's my business, as well as my hobby." "Then don't you think you are a fortunate man?" "In a sense, perhaps," Dick answered. "Still, that's no reason you should be bored for my entertainment." He paused and resumed: "I'm grateful because you mean to be kind, as you were the night I met you first at the tent. Although you had heard my story, I saw you wanted to make me feel I was being given a fresh start." Ida studied him with a thoughtful calm that he found embarrassing. "Perhaps I did, but suppose we talk about something else." "Very well. If it's not bad form, I wasn't in the least astonished by your lecture about the roofs, because one finds your people have a breadth of knowledge that's remarkable. I once showed an old abbey near our place at home to some American tourists, and soon saw they knew more about its history than I did. There was a girl of seventeen who corrected me once or twice, and when I went to the library I found that she was right. The curious thing is that you're, so to speak, rather parochial with it all. One of my American employers treated me pretty well until he had to make some changes in his business. Took me to his house now and then, and I found his wife and daughters knew the old French and Italian cities. Yet they thought them far behind Marlin Bluff, which is really a horribly ugly place." "I know it," said Ida, laughing. "Still, the physical attractiveness of a town isn't it's only charm. Besides, are you sure you don't mean patriotic when you say parochial? You ought to sympathize with the former feeling." "I don't know. Patriotism is difficult when your country has no use for you." Ida did not reply, and it was a few minutes later when she said: "I'm glad I met you to-night, because we go home soon and there's a favor I want to ask. My brother is coming out to take a post on the irrigation work and I want you to look after him." "But he mayn't like being looked after, and it's very possible he knows more about the work than I do. I've only had a military training." "Jake has had no training at all, and is three or four years younger than I think you are." "Then, of course, I'll be glad to teach him all I can." "That isn't exactly what I mean, although we want him to learn as much as possible about engineering." "I don't see what else I could teach him." Ida smiled. "Then I must explain. Jake is rash and fond of excitement and gay society. He makes friends easily and trusts those he likes, but this has some drawbacks because his confidence is often misplaced. Now I don't think you would find it difficult to gain some influence over him." "And what would you expect me to do afterwards?" "You might begin by trying to make him see how interesting his new occupation is." "That might be harder than you think," Dick replied. "Molding concrete and digging irrigation ditches have a fascination for me, but I dare say it's an unusual taste. Your brother mightn't like weighing cement in the hot mixing sheds or dragging a measuring chain about in the sun." "It's very possible," Ida agreed with a hint of dryness. "I want you to show him what it means; make him feel the sense of power over material. Jake's rather boyish, and a boy loves to fire a gun because something startling happens in obedience to his will when he pulls the trigger. Isn't it much the same when one gives the orders that shatter massive rocks and move ponderous stones? However, that's not all. I want you to keep him at the dam and prevent his making undesirable friends." "Though it's not the thing I'm cut out for, I'll try," said Dick, with some hesitation. "I'm surprised that you should put your brother in my charge, after what you know about me." "You were unfortunate, negligent, perhaps, for once." "The trouble is that my friends and relations seemed to think me dishonest. At least, they believed that my getting into disgrace was quite as bad." "I don't," said Ida calmly. "What I ask will need some tact, but if you'll promise to look after Jake, I shall feel satisfied." Dick was silent for the next few moments, watching the phosphorescent foam stream back from the launch's bows. Then he said: "Thank you, Miss Fuller. In a way, it's embarrassing to feel you trust me; but I'll do what I can to deserve it." Three or four minutes afterwards the launch steamed round the liner's stern and ran into the gloom beneath her tall side. There was a blaze of light above that fell upon the farthest off of the row of boats, past which the launch ran with her engine stopped, and the dark water broke into a fiery sparkle as the swell lapped the steamer's plates. A man came down the ladder when the launch jarred against its foot, and Ida, finding that Fuller was still on board, went up while Dick steamed across to the cargo-boat that lay with winches hammering not far off. After talking to her mate, he returned to the harbor, and when he landed, lighted a cigarette and studied some alterations that were being made at the landward end of the mole. He had noticed the work as he passed with Ida, but was now able to examine it. A number of concrete blocks and cement bags were lying about. Beckoning a peon who seemed to be the watchman, Dick gave him a cigarette and asked: "How far are they going to re-face the mole?" "As far as the post yonder, señor." It was obvious that a large quantity of cement would be required and Dick resumed: "Who is doing the work?" "Don Ramon Oliva." Dick hid his interest. Ramon Oliva was the man he had seen talking to Fuller's storekeeper at the hotel. "Where does one buy cement in this town?" "Señor Vaz, the merchant, sells it now and then." Dick let the peon go, and leaving the mole, found Vaz in a café. Sitting down at his table he asked: "Do you keep cement in your warehouse?" "Sometimes," said the other; "when work it is required for is going on. But I sold the last I had two or three months ago." "I believe we run short now and then, but we have a big lot being landed now. As our sheds will be pretty full, I could let you have a quantity if you like." "Thanks, but no," said the merchant. "I do not think anybody would buy it from me for some time, and it is bad to keep when one's store is damp." Dick, who drank a glass of wine with him, went away in a thoughtful mood. He wondered where Don Ramon got his cement, and meant to find out, though he saw that caution would be needed. He owed much to Fuller and had made his master's business his. Now it looked as if Fuller were being robbed and although he had, no doubt, cunning rogues to deal with, Dick determined that the thing must be stopped. When he returned to the dam he went to Bethune's hut and found him lying in his hammock. "Whose duty is it to check the storekeeper's lists?" he asked. "I suppose you strike a balance between the goods delivered him and the stuff he hands out for use on the works." "It's done, of course," said Bethune. "I haven't examined the books myself; François, the Creole clerk, is responsible. However, one would imagine you had duties enough without taking up another, but if you mean to do so, you had better begin soon. Your energy won't stand this climate long." "I don't know what I may do yet," Dick replied. "Still, it struck me that our stores might be sold in the town." "I expect they are, to some extent," Bethune carelessly agreed. "That kind of thing is hard to stop anywhere, and these folks are very smart at petty pilfering. Anyway, you might get yourself into trouble by interfering and any small theft you stopped probably wouldn't pay for the time you'd have to spend on the job. Leave it alone, and take matters as you find them, is my advice." Dick talked about something else, but when he went back to his shack he knew what he meant to do. CHAPTER VIII AN INFORMAL COURT One morning, soon after Fuller and his daughter had gone home, Dick stood at a table in the testing house behind the mixing sheds. The small, galvanized iron building shook with the throb of engines and rattle of machinery, and now and then a shower of cinders pattered upon the roof; for the big mill that ground up the concrete was working across the road. The lattice shutters were closed, for the sake of privacy, and kept out the glare, though they could not keep out the heat, which soaked through the thin, iron walls, and Dick's face was wet with perspiration as he arranged a number of small concrete blocks. Some of these were broken, and some partly crushed. Delicate scales and glass measures occupied a neighboring shelf, and a big steel apparatus that looked rather like a lever weighing machine stood in the shadow. Where the draught that came through the lattices flowed across the room, Bethune lounged in a canvas chair, and another man, with a quiet, sunburned face, sat behind him. This was Stuyvesant, whose authority was only second to Fuller's. "Brandon seems to have taken a good deal of trouble, but this kind of investigation needs the strictest accuracy, and we haven't the best of testing apparatus," Bethune remarked. "I expect he'll allow that the results he has got may be to some extent misleading, and I doubt if it's worth while to go on with the matter. Are you sure you have made no mistakes, Dick?" Dick pondered for a few moments. If he were right, as he thought he was, the statements he had to make would lead to the discharge of the sub-contractor. Remembering his own disgrace, he shrank from condemning another. He knew what he had suffered, and the man might be innocent although his guilt seemed plain. It was a hateful situation, but his duty was to protect his master's interests and he could not see him robbed. "You can check my calculations," he answered quietly. "That's so," agreed Stuyvesant, who added with a dry smile as he noted Bethune's disapproving look: "We can decide about going on with the thing when we have heard Brandon." "Very well," said Dick, giving him some papers, and then indicated two different rows of the small concrete blocks. "These marked A were made from cement in our store; the lot B from some I took from Oliva's stock on the mole. They were subjected to the same compressive, shearing, and absorbent tests, and you'll see that there's very little difference in the results. The quality of standard makes of cement is, no doubt, much alike, but you wouldn't expect to find that of two different brands identical. My contention is that the blocks were made from the same stuff." Stuyvesant crossed the floor and measured the blocks with a micrometer gage, after which he filled two of the graduated glass measures and then weighed the water. "Well?" he said to Bethune, who had picked up Dick's calculations. "The figures are right; he's only out in a small decimal." Stuyvesant took the papers and compared them with a printed form he produced from his pocket. "They correspond with the tests the maker claims his stuff will stand, and we can take it that they're accurate. Still, this doesn't prove that Oliva stole the cement from us. The particular make is popular on this coast, and he may have bought a quantity from somebody else. Did you examine the bags on the mole, Brandon?" "No," said Dick, "I had to get my samples in the dark. If Oliva bought the cement, he must have kept it for some time, because the only man in the town who stocks it sold the last he had three months ago. The next thing is our storekeeper's tally showing the number of bags delivered to him. I sat up half the night trying to balance this against what he handed out and could make nothing of the entries." "Let me see," said Bethune, and lighted a cigarette when Dick handed him a book, and a bundle of small, numbered forms. "You can talk, if you like," he added as he sharpened a pencil. Dick moved restlessly up and down the floor, examining the testing apparatus, but he said nothing, and Stuyvesant did not speak. He was a reserved and thoughtful man. After a time, Bethune threw the papers on the table. "François isn't much of a bookkeeper," he remarked. "One or two of the delivery slips have been entered twice, and at first I suspected he might have conspired with Oliva. Still, that's against my notion of his character, and I find he's missed booking stuff that had been given out, which, of course, wouldn't have suited the other's plans." "You can generally count on a Frenchman's honesty," Stuyvesant observed. "But do you make the deliveries ex-store tally with what went in?" "I don't," said Bethune dryly. "Here's the balance I struck. It shows the storekeeper is a good many bags short." He passed the paper across, and Dick examined it with surprise. "You have worked this out already from the muddled and blotted entries! Do you think you've got it right?" "I'm sure," said Bethune, smiling. "I'll prove it if you like. We know how much cement went into stock. How many molded blocks of the top course have we put down at the dam?" Dick told him, and after a few minutes' calculation Bethune looked up. "Then here you are! Our concrete's a standard density; we know the weight of water and sand and what to allow for evaporation. You see my figures agree very closely with the total delivery ex-store." They did so, and Dick no longer wondered how Bethune, who ostentatiously declined to let his work interfere with his comfort, held his post. The man thought in numbers, using the figures, as one used words, to express his knowledge rather than as a means of obtaining it by calculation. Dick imagined this was genius. "Well," said Stuyvesant, "I guess we had better send for the storekeeper next." "Get it over," agreed Bethune. "It's an unpleasant job." Dick sent a half-naked peon to look for the man, and was sensible of some nervous strain as he waited for his return. He hated the task he had undertaken, but it must be carried out. Bethune, who had at first tried to discourage him, now looked interested, and Dick saw that Stuyvesant was resolute. In the meanwhile, the shed had grown suffocatingly hot, his face and hands were wet with perspiration, and the rumble of machinery made his head ache. He lighted a cigarette, but the tobacco tasted bitter and he threw it away. Then there were footsteps outside and Stuyvesant turned to him. "We leave you to put the thing through. You're prosecutor." Dick braced himself as a man came in and stood by the table, looking at the others suspiciously. He was an American, but his face was heavy and rather sullen, and his white clothes were smeared with dust. "We have been examining your stock-book," said Dick. "It's badly kept." The fellow gave him a quick glance. "Mr. Fuller knows I'm not smart at figuring, and if you want the books neat, you'll have to get me a better clerk. Anyhow, I've my own tally and allow I can tell you what stuff I get and where it goes." "That is satisfactory. Look at this list and tell me where the cement you're short of has gone." "Into the mixing shed, I guess," said the other with a half-defiant frown. "Then it didn't come out. We haven't got the concrete at the dam. Are there any full bags not accounted for in the shed?" "No, sir. You ought to know the bags are skipped right into the tank as the mill grinds up the mush." "Very well. Perhaps you'd better consult your private tally and see if it throws any light upon the matter." The man took out a note-book and while he studied it Bethune asked, "Will you let me have the book?" "I guess not," said the other, who shut the book with a snap, and then turned and confronted Dick. "I want to know why you're getting after me!" "It's fairly plain. You're responsible for the stores and can't tell us what has become of a quantity of the goods." "Suppose I own up that my tally's got mixed?" "Then you'd show yourself unfit for your job; but that is not the worst. If you had made a mistake the bags wouldn't vanish. You had the cement, it isn't in the store and hasn't reached us in the form of concrete. It must have gone somewhere." "Where do you reckon it went, if it wasn't into the mixing shed?" "To the Santa Brigida mole," Dick answered quietly, and noting the man's abrupt movement, went on: "What were you talking to Ramon Oliva about at the Hotel Magellan?" The storekeeper did not reply, but the anger and confusion in his face were plain, and Dick turned to the others. "I think we'll send for Oliva," said Stuyvesant. "Keep this fellow here until he comes." Oliva entered tranquilly, though his black eyes got very keen when he glanced at his sullen accomplice. He was picturesquely dressed, with a black silk sash round his waist and a big Mexican sombrero. Taking out a cigarette, he remarked that it was unusually hot. "You are doing some work on the town mole," Dick said to him. "Where did you get the cement?" "I bought it," Oliva answered, with a surprised look. "From whom?" "A merchant at Anagas, down the coast. But, señores, my contract on the mole is a matter for the port officials. I do not see the object of these questions." "You had better answer them," Stuyvesant remarked, and signed Dick to go on. Dick paused for a moment or two, remembering how he had confronted his judges in a tent in an English valley. The scene came back with poignant distinctness. He could hear the river brawling among the stones, and feel his Colonel's stern, condemning gaze fixed upon his face. For all that, his tone was resolute as he asked: "What was the brand of the cement you bought?" "The _Tenax_, señor," Oliva answered with a defiant smile. Then Dick turned to the others with a gesture which implied that there was no more to be said, and quietly sat down. _Tenax_ was not the brand that Fuller used, and its different properties would have appeared in the tests. The sub-contractor had betrayed himself by the lie, and his accomplice looked at him with disgust. "You've given the thing away," he growled. "Think they don't know what cement is? Now they have you fixed!" There was silence for the next minute while Stuyvesant studied some figures in his pocket-book. Then he wrote upon a leaf, which he tore out and told Dick to give it to Oliva. "Here's a rough statement of your account up to the end of last month, Don Ramon," he said. "You can check it and afterwards hand the pay-clerk a formal bill, brought up to date, but you'll notice I have charged you with a quantity of cement that's missing from our store. Your engagement with Mr. Fuller ends to-day." Oliva spread out his hands with a dramatic gesture. "Señores, this is a scandal, a grand injustice! You understand it will ruin me? It is impossible that I submit." "Very well. We'll put the matter into the hands of the _Justicia_." "It is equal," Oliva declared with passion. "You have me marked as a thief. The port officials give me no more work and my friends talk. At the _Justicia_ all the world hears my defense." "As you like," said Stuyvesant, but the storekeeper turned to Oliva with a contemptuous grin. "I allow you're not such a blamed fool," he remarked. "Take the chance they've given you and get from under before the roof falls in." Oliva pondered for a few moments, his eyes fixed on Stuyvesant's unmoved face, and then shrugged with an air of injured resignation. "It is a grand scandal, but I make my bill." He moved slowly to the door, but paused as he reached it, and gave Dick a quick, malignant glance. Then he went out and the storekeeper asked Stuyvesant: "What are you going to do with me?" "Fire you right now. Go along to the pay-clerk and give him your time. I don't know if that's all we ought to do; but we'll be satisfied if you and your partner get off this camp." "I'll quit," said the storekeeper, who turned to Dick. "You're a smart kid, but we'd have bluffed you all right if the fool had allowed he used the same cement." Then he followed Oliva, and Stuyvesant got up. "That was Oliva's mistake," he remarked. "I saw where you were leading him and you put the questions well. Now, however, you'll have to take on his duties until we get another man." They left the testing-house, and as Bethune and Dick walked up the valley the former said: "It's my opinion that you were imprudent in one respect. You showed the fellows that it was you who found them out. It might have been better if you had, so to speak, divided the responsibility." "They've gone, and that's the most important thing," Dick rejoined. "From the works. It doesn't follow that they'll quit Santa Brigida. Payne, the storekeeper, is of course an American tough, but I don't think he'll make trouble. He'd have robbed us cheerfully, but I expect he'll take his being found out as a risk of the game; besides, Stuyvesant will have to ship him home if he asks for his passage. But I didn't like the look Oliva gave you. These dago half-breeds are a revengeful lot." "I'm not in the town often and I'll be careful if I go there after dark. To tell the truth, I didn't want to interfere, but I couldn't let the rogues go on with their stealing." "I suppose not," Bethune agreed. "The trouble about doing your duty is that it often costs you something." CHAPTER IX JAKE FULLER A month after Fuller sailed his son arrived at Santa Brigida, and Dick, who met him on the mole, got something of a surprise when a handsome youth landed and came straight towards him. Jake Fuller was obviously very young, but had an ease of manner and a calm self-confidence that would have done credit to an elderly man of the world. His clothes showed nice taste, and there was nothing about him to indicate the reckless scapegrace Dick had expected. "You're Brandon, of course," he said as he shook hands. "Glad to meet you. Knew you a quarter of a mile off." "How's that?" Dick asked. "You haven't seen me before." "For one thing, you're stamped Britisher; then you had a kind of determined look, as if you'd come down to yank me right off to the irrigation ditches before I'd time to run loose in the city. Matter of duty to you, and you were going to put it through." Dick said nothing, and Jake laughed. "Well, that's all right; I guess we'll hit it! And now we'll put out when you like. I laid in a pretty good breakfast on the boat; I like smart service and a well-chosen menu, and don't suppose you have either at the camp." "They might be better," Dick agreed, feeling that he had promised Miss Fuller more than he might be able to perform. Then he told a peon to take Jake's luggage and led the way to a mule carriage at the end of the mole. "I didn't expect to ride in a transfer-wagon," Jake remarked. "Haven't you any autos yet? If not, I'll indent for one when the next stock order goes home." "Perhaps you had better wait until you see the roads." "You're surely British," Jake replied. "If you'd been an American, you'd get the car first and make the roads fit in. However, you might tell the ancient dago to get a move on." Dick was silent for the next few minutes. On the whole, he thought he would like Fuller, and made some allowance for the excitement he, no doubt, felt at beginning his career in a foreign country, but none for any wish to impress his companion. It was unlikely that the self-possessed lad would care what Dick thought of him, although it looked as if he meant to be friendly. Then as the sweating mules slowly climbed the rutted track out of the town Dick began to point out the changing level of the land, the ravines, or barrancos, that formed natural drainage channels from the high watershed, and the influence of drought and moisture on the cultivation. Jake showed a polite interest, but inquired what amusements were to be had in Santa Brigida, about which Dick gave him as little information as possible. If he had understood Miss Fuller's hints, the Spanish city was no place for her brother. Jake spent the day following Dick about the works and made no complaint about the heat and dust, though he frowned when a shower of cement or a splash of oil fell upon his clothes. It was obvious that he knew nothing about engineering, but the questions he asked indicated keen intelligence and Dick was satisfied. A room adjoining the latter's quarters had been prepared for the newcomer, and they sat, smoking, on the veranda after the evening meal. "Do you think you'll like your work?" Dick asked. "I've got to like it, and it might be worse. Since I'm not allowed to draw or model things, I can make them, and I guess that's another form of the same talent, though it's considerably less interesting than the first." "But perhaps more useful," Dick suggested. "Well, I don't know. Our taste is pretty barbarous, as a rule, and you can't claim that yours is more advanced, but I allow that the Spaniards who built Santa Brigida had an eye for line and color. These dagos have a gift we lack; you can see it in the way they wear their clothes. My notion is that it's some use to teach your countrymen to admire beauty and grace. We're great at making things, but there's no particular need to make them ugly." "Then you're a bit of an artist?" "I meant to be a whole one and might have made good, although the old man has not much use for art. Unfortunately, however, I felt I had to kick against the conventionality of the life I led and the protest I put up was a little too vigorous. It made trouble, and in consequence, my folks decided I'd better be an engineer. I couldn't follow their arguments, but had to acquiesce." "It's curious how you artists claim to be exempt from the usual rules, as if you were different from the rest of us." "We _are_ different," Jake rejoined with a twinkle. "It's our business to see the truth of things, while you try to make it fit your formulas about what you think is most useful to yourself or society. A formula's like bad spectacles; it distorts the sight, and yours is plainly out of focus. For example, I guess you're satisfied with the white clothes you're wearing." "I don't know that it's important, but what's the matter with them?" "Well," said Jake, with a critical glance, "they're all wrong. Now you've got good shoulders, your figure's well balanced, and I like the way you hold your head, but your tailor has spoiled every prominent line. I'll show you some time when I model you in clay." He paused and grinned. "I guess the Roman sentinel pose would suit you best, as I noted it when you stood on the mole waiting for me, determined to do your duty at any cost. Besides, there is something of the soldier about you." "I wish you'd stop rotting," said Dick with a touch of awkwardness, though he saw that Jake knew nothing about his leaving the army. "Was it your father's notion that you should be an engineer?" "He thinks so," Jake answered, grinning. "My opinion is that you have to thank my sister Ida for the job of looking after me. She made this her business until I went to Yale, when, of course, she lost control. Ida has a weakness for managing people, for their good, but you ought to take it as a delicate compliment that she passed me on to you." "After all, Miss Fuller's age must be nearly the same as mine," Dick remarked. "I see what you mean, but in some respects she's much older. In fact, I guess I could give you a year or two myself. But it seems to me you've kind of wilted since we began to talk. You've gone slack and your eyes look heavy. Say, I'm sorry if I've made you tired." "I don't think you had much to do with it," said Dick. "My head aches and I've a shivery feeling that came on about this time last night. A touch of malarial fever, perhaps; they get it now and then in the town, though we ought to be free from it on the hill. Anyhow, if you don't mind, I'll get off to bed." He went away, and Jake looked about the veranda and the room that opened on to it. There was a canvas chair or two, a folding table, a large drawing board on a trestle frame, and two cheap, tin lamps. It was obvious that Dick thought of nothing much except his work and had a Spartan disregard for comfort. "A good sort, but it's concrete first and last with him," Jake remarked. "Guess I've got to start by making this shack fit for a white man to live in." Dick passed a restless night, but felt better when he began his work on the dam next morning, though he did not touch the small hard roll and black coffee his colored steward had put ready for him. The air was fresh, the jungle that rolled down the hill glittered with dew, and the rays of the red sun had, so far, only a pleasant warmth. Cranes were rattling, locomotives snorted as they moved the ponderous concrete blocks and hauled away loads of earth, and a crowd of picturesque figures were busy about the dam. Some wore dirty white cotton and ragged crimson sashes; the dark limbs of others projected from garments of vivid color. Dick drove the men as hard as he was able. They worked well, chattering and laughing, in the early morning, and there was much to be done, because Oliva's dismissal had made a difference. The men flagged, as the sun got higher, and at length Dick sat down in the thin shade of a tree. The light was now intense, the curving dam gleamed a dazzling pearly-gray through a quivering radiance, and the water that had gathered behind it shone like molten silver. One could imagine that the pools reflected heat as well as light. Dick's eyes ached, and for a few minutes he let them rest upon the glossy, green jungle, and the belts of cultivation down the hill. Then he roused himself, because he must watch what was going on. The great blocks must be properly fitted into place, and one could not trust the dusky laborers to use the care that was needed; besides, they were getting slack, and the fresh blocks the locomotives brought would soon begin to accumulate. Since this would mean extra handling and consequent expense, the track must be kept clear. Still, Dick wished noon would come, for his head ached badly and he felt the heat as he had not felt it before. It was hard to force himself to begin again after the short mid-day rest, but he became a little more vigorous as the sun sank and the shadow of the black cordillera lengthened across the valley. After dinner, when he lounged on the veranda, the headache and lassitude returned, and he listened to Jake's talk vacantly and soon went to bed. He knew he was not well, but while malarial fever was not unusual in the neighborhood people seldom took it in a virulent form, and as there was a good doctor at Santa Brigida he determined to consult him when he had occasion to visit the town. As it happened, a crane broke next day, and when evening came he set off to inquire if new castings could be made for it in the Spanish foundry. While he waited for an engine to take him down the line, Jake announced his intention of coming. "I've never been round a Spanish town," he said. "You're not going round a Spanish town now, if I can prevent it," Dick rejoined. "However, I suppose I can't order you off your father's locomotive." Jake smiled. "You can resent my taking the line you hint at when I've done so, but I guess one must make allowances. You're getting the fever badly, partner." "It's the heat," Dick answered in an apologetic tone. "Anyhow, Santa Brigida's a dirty, uninteresting place." "I expect your ideas of what's interesting are different from mine. Concrete's all right in the daytime, though you can have too much of it then, but you want to please your eye and relax your brain at night." "I was afraid of something of the kind. But here's the locomotive. Get up, if you're coming." Dick was silent as the engine jolted down the track, for he was feverish and his companion's talk irritated him. Besides, he had promised Ida Fuller to take care of the lad and knew something of the license that ruled in the city. Jake seemed to claim the supposititious privileges of the artistic temperament, and there were wine-shops, gamblers, pretty Creole girls with easy manners, and ragged desperados who carried knives, in Santa Brigida. In fact, it offered too many opportunities for romantic adventures. In consequence, Dick went to the Hotel Magellan, which they reached after walking from the end of the line, and took Jake into the bar. "You had better stop here; I won't be longer than I can help," he said. "They'll make you a rather nice iced drink of Canary _tinto_." "Just so," Jake replied. "_Tinto's_ a thin, sour claret, isn't it? In New York not long ago you could get iced buttermilk. Can't say I was fond of it, but I reckon it's as exhilarating as the other stuff." Dick left him with some misgivings and went about his business. It was eight o'clock in the evening and the foundry would be closed, but he knew where the manager lived and went to his house, which was situated in the older part of the city. He had not taken Jake because he had to pass some of the less reputable cafés and gambling dens and thought it undesirable that the lad should know where they were. The foundry manager was not at home, but a languishing young woman with a thickly powdered face, who called her mother before she conferred with Dick, told him where Don Tomas had gone, and Dick set off again in search of the café she named. A half moon hung low in the clear sky, but, for the most part, its light only reached a short distance down the white and yellow fronts of the flat-topped houses. These got light and air from the central courtyard, or patio, and the outer walls were only pierced by one or two very narrow windows at some height from the ground. The openings were marked here and there by a faint glow from within, which was often broken by a shadowy female form leaning against the bars and speaking softly to another figure on the pavement below. There were few street lamps, and in places the houses crowded in upon the narrow strip of gloom through which Dick picked his way with echoing steps. Most of the citizens were in the plaza, and the streets were quiet except for the measured beat of the surf and the distant music of the band. A smell of rancid oil and garlic, mingled with the strong perfumes Spanish women use, hung about the buildings, but now and then a puff of cooler air flowed through a dark opening and brought with it the keen freshness of the sea. Once the melancholy note of a guitar came down from a roof and somebody began to sing in a voice that quivered with fantastic tremolos. Dick went carefully, keeping as far as possible away from the walls. In Santa Brigida, all white men were supposed to be rich, and the honesty of the darker part of its mixed population was open to doubt. Besides, he had learned that the fair-skinned Northerners were disliked. They brought money, which was needed, into the country, but they also brought machines and business methods that threatened to disturb the tranquillity the Latin half-breed enjoyed. The latter must be beaten in industrial strife and, exchanging independence for higher wages, become subject to a more vigorous, mercantile race. The half-breeds seemed to know this, and regarded the foreigners with jealous eyes. For all that, Dick carried no weapons. A pistol large enough to be of use was an awkward thing to hide, and he agreed with Bethune that to wear it ostentatiously was more likely to provoke than avoid attack. Once he thought he was followed, but when he stopped to look round, the shadowy figure behind turned into a side street, and he presently found the man he was in search of in a quiet café. He spent some time explaining the drawings of the patterns that would be required before Don Tomas undertook to make the castings, and then languidly leaned back in his chair. His head had begun to ache again and he felt strangely limp and tired. The fever was returning, as it did at night, but he roused himself by and by and set off to visit the doctor. On his way he passed the casino and, to his surprise, saw Jake coming down the steps. Dick frowned when they met. "How did you get in?" he asked. "It's the rule for somebody to put your name down on your first visit." "So it seemed," said Jake. "There are, however, ways of getting over such difficulties, and a dollar goes some distance in this country; much farther, in fact, than it does in ours." "It's some consolation to think you've had to pay for your amusement," Dick answered sourly. Jake smiled. "On the contrary, I found it profitable. You make a mistake that's common with serious folks, by taking it for granted that a cheerful character marks a fool." He put his hand in his pocket and brought it out filled with silver coin. "Say, what do you think of this?" "Put the money back," Dick said sharply, for there was a second-rate wine-shop not far off and a group of untidy half-breeds lounged about its front. Jake, however, took out another handful of silver. "My luck was pretty good; I reckon it says something for me that I knew when to stop." He jingled the money as he passed the wine-shop, and Dick, looking back, thought one of the men inside got up, but nobody seemed to be following them when they turned into another street. This was the nearest way to the doctor's, but it was dark and narrow, and Dick did not like its look. "Keep in the middle," he warned Jake. They were near the end of the street when two men came out of an arch and waited for them. "Have you a match, señor?" one who held a cigarette in his hand asked. "No," said Dick suspiciously. "Keep back!" "But it is only a match we want," said the other, and Jake stopped. "What's the matter with giving him one? Wait till I get my box." He gave it to the fellow, who struck a match, and after lighting his cigarette held it so that the faint illumination touched Dick's face. "Thanks, señor," said the half-breed, who turned to his companion as he added softly in Castilian: "The other." Dick understood. It was not Jake but himself who was threatened; and he thought he knew why. "Look out for that fellow, Jake!" he cried. "Get back to the wall!" Jake, to Dick's relief, did as he was told, but next moment another man ran out of the arch, and somebody in the darkness called out in Castilian. Dick thought he knew the voice; but the men were behind him now, and he turned to face them. The nearest had his hand at his ragged sash, and Dick saw that he must act before the long Spanish knife came out. He struck hard, leaning forward as he did so, and the man reeled back; but the other two closed with him, and although his knuckles jarred as a second blow got home, he felt a stinging pain high up in his side. His breathing suddenly got difficult, but as he staggered towards the wall he saw Jake dash his soft hat in the face of another antagonist and spring upon the fellow. There seemed to be four men round them and one was like Oliva, the contractor; but Dick's sight was going and he had a fit of coughing that was horribly painful. He heard Jake shout and footsteps farther up the street, and tried to lean against the house for support, but slipped and fell upon the pavement. He could neither see nor hear well, but made out that his assailants had slunk away and men were running towards Jake, who stood, calling for help, in the middle of the street. Shortly afterwards a group of dark figures gathered round and he heard confused voices. He thought Jake knelt down and tried to lift him, but this brought on a stab of burning pain and he knew nothing more. CHAPTER X LA MIGNONNE A cool sea breeze blew through the half-opened lattice, and a ray of sunshine quivered upon the ocher-colored wall, when Dick awoke from a refreshing sleep. He felt helplessly weak, and his side, which was covered by a stiff bandage, hurt him when he moved, but his head was clear at last and he languidly looked about. The room was spacious, but rather bare. There was no carpet, but a rug made a blotch of cool green on the smooth, dark floor. Two or three religious pictures hung upon the wall and he noted how the soft blue of the virgin's dress harmonized with the yellow background. An arch at one end was covered by a leather curtain like those in old Spanish churches, but it had been partly drawn back to let the air circulate. Outside the hooked-back lattice he saw the rails of a balcony, and across the narrow patio a purple creeper spread about a dazzling white wall. All this was vaguely familiar, because it was some days since Dick had recovered partial consciousness, though he had been too feeble to notice his surroundings much or find out where he was. Now he studied the room with languid interest as he tried to remember what had led to his being brought there. The scanty furniture was dark and old; and he knew the wrinkled, brown-faced woman in black who sat by the window with a dark shawl wound round her head. She had a place in his confused memories; as had another woman with a curious lifeless face and an unusual dress, who had once or twice lifted him and done something to his bandages. Still, it was not of her Dick was thinking. There had been somebody else, brighter and fresher than either, who sat beside him when he lay in fevered pain and sometimes stole in and vanished after a pitiful glance. A bunch of flowers stood upon the table; and their scent mingled with the faint smell of decay that hung about the room. Lying still, Dick heard the leather curtain rustle softly in the draught, muffled sounds of traffic, and the drowsy murmur of the surf. Its rhythmic beat was soothing and he thought he could smell the sea. By and by he made an abrupt move that hurt him as a voice floated into the room. It was singularly clear and sweet, and he thought he knew it, as he seemed to know the song, but could not catch the words and the singing stopped. Then light footsteps passed the arch and there was silence again. "Who's that?" he asked with an energy he had not been capable of until then. "_La mignonne_," said the old woman with a smile that showed her thick, red lips and firm white teeth. "And who's Mignonne?" "_La, la!_" said the woman soothingly. "_C'est ma mignonne._ But you jess go to sleep again." "How can I go to sleep when I'm not sleepy and you won't tell me what I want to know?" Dick grumbled, but the woman raised her hand and began to sing an old plantation song. "I'm not a child," he protested weakly. "But that's rather nice." Closing his eyes, he tried to think. His nurse was not a Spanish mulatto, as her dark dress suggested. It was more likely that she came from Louisiana, where the old French stock had not died out; but Dick felt puzzled. She had spoken, obviously with affection, of _ma mignonne_; but he was sure the singer was no child of hers. There was no Creole accent in that clear voice, and the steps he heard were light. The feet that had passed his door were small and arched; not flat like a negro's. He had seen feet of the former kind slip on an iron staircase and brush, in pretty satin shoes, across a lawn on which the moonlight fell. Besides, a girl whose skin was fair and whose movements were strangely graceful had flitted about his room. While he puzzled over this he went to sleep and on waking saw with a start of pleasure Jake sitting near his bed. His nurse had gone. "Hullo!" he said. "I'm glad you've come. There are a lot of things I want to know." "The trouble is I've been ordered not to tell you much. It's a comfort to see you looking brighter." "I feel pretty well. But can you tell me where I am and how I got there?" "Certainly. We'll take the last question first. Somebody tore off a shutter and we carried you on it. I guess you know you got a dago's knife between your ribs." "I seem to remember something like that," said Dick; who added with awkward gratitude: "I believe the brutes would have killed me if you hadn't been there." "It was a pretty near thing. Does it strike you as curious that while you made yourself responsible for me I had to take care of you?" "You did so, anyhow," Dick remarked with feeling. "But go on." "Somebody brought a Spanish doctor, who said you couldn't be moved much and must be taken into the nearest house, so we brought you here." "Where is 'here'? That's what I want to know?" "My orders are not to let you talk. We've changed our positions now; you've got to listen. For all that, you ought to be thankful you're not in the Santa Brigida hospital, which was too far away. It's three hundred years old and smells older. Felt as if you could bake bricks in it, and no air gets in." "But what were you doing at the hospital?" "I went to see a fellow who told me he'd been fired out of our camp. He came up just after the dago knifed you, and knocked out the man I was grappling with, but got an ugly stab from one of the gang. We didn't find this out until we had disposed of you. However, he's nearly all right and they'll let him out soon." "Ah!" said Dick. "That must be Payne, the storekeeper. But, you see, I fired him. Why did he interfere?" "I don't know. He said something about your being a white man and it was three to one." Dick pondered this and then his thoughts resumed their former groove. "Who's the mulatto woman in black?" "She's called Lucille. A nice old thing, and seems to have looked after you well. When I came in she was singing you to sleep. Voice all gone, of course, but I'd like to write down the song. It sounded like the genuine article." "What do you mean by the 'genuine article'?" "Well, I think it was one of the plantation lullabies they used to sing before the war; not the imitation trash fourth-rate composers turned out in floods some years ago. That, of course, has no meaning, but the other expressed the spirit of the race. Words quaint coon-English with a touch of real feeling; air something after the style of a camp-meeting hymn, and yet somehow African. In fact, it's unique music, but it's good." "Hadn't I another nurse?" Dick asked. Jake laughed. "I ought to have remembered that you're not musical. There was a nursing sister of some religious order." "I don't mean a nun," Dick persisted. "A girl came in now and then." "It's quite possible. Some of them are sympathetic and some are curious. No doubt, you were an interesting patient; anyhow, you gave the Spanish doctor plenty trouble. He was rather anxious for a time; the fever you had before the dago stabbed you complicated things." Jake paused and looked at his watch. "Now I've got to quit. I had orders not to stay long, but I'll come back soon to see how you're getting on." Dick let him go and lay still, thinking drowsily. Jake had apparently not meant to answer his questions. He wanted to know where he was and had not been told. It looked as if his comrade had been warned not to enlighten him; but there was no reason for this. Above all, he wanted to know who was the girl with the sweet voice and light step. Jake, who had admitted that she might have been in his room, had, no doubt, seen her, and Dick could not understand why he should refuse to speak of her. While he puzzled about it he went to sleep again. It was dark when he awoke, and perhaps he was feverish or his brain was weakened by illness, for it reproduced past scenes that were mysteriously connected with the present. He was in a strange house in Santa Brigida, for he remarked the shadowy creeper on the wall and a pool of moonlight on the dark floor of his room. Yet the cornfields in an English valley, through which he drove his motor bicycle, seemed more real, and he could see the rows of stocked sheaves stretch back from the hedgerows he sped past. Something sinister and threatening awaited him at the end of the journey, but he could not tell what it was. Then the cornfields vanished and he was crossing a quiet, walled garden with a girl at his side. He remembered how the moonlight shone through the branches of a tree and fell in silver, splashes on her white dress. Her face was in the shadow, but he knew it well. After a time he felt thirsty, and moving his head looked feebly about the room. A slender, white figure sat near the wall, and he started, because this must be the girl he had heard singing. "I wonder if you could get me something to drink?" he said. The girl rose and he watched her intently as she came towards him with a glass. When she entered the moonlight his heart gave a sudden throb. "Clare, Miss Kenwardine!" he said, and awkwardly raised himself on his arm. "Yes," she said, "I am Clare Kenwardine. But drink this; then I'll put the pillows straight and you must keep still." Dick drained the glass and lay down again, for he was weaker than he thought. "Thanks! Don't go back into the dark. You have been here all the time? I mean, since I came." "As you were seldom quite conscious until this morning, how did you know?" "I didn't know, in a way, and yet I did. There was somebody about who made me think of England, and then, you see, I heard you sing." "Still," she said, smiling, "I don't quite understand." "Don't you?" said Dick, who felt he must make things plain. "Well, you stole in and out and sat here sometimes when Lucille was tired. I didn't exactly notice you--perhaps I was too ill--but I felt you were there, and that was comforting." "And yet you are surprised to see me now!" "I can't have explained it properly. I didn't know you were Miss Kenwardine; but I felt I knew you and kept trying to remember, but I was feverish and my mind wouldn't take your image in. For all that, something told me it was really there already, and I'd be able to recognize it if I waited. It was like a photograph that wasn't developed." "You're feverish now," Clare answered quietly. "I mustn't let you talk so much." "You're as bad as Jake; he wouldn't answer my questions," Dick grumbled. "Then, you see, I want to talk." Clare laughed, as if she found it a relief to do so. "That doesn't matter if it will do you harm." "I'll be very quiet," Dick pleaded. "I'll only speak a word or two now and then. But don't go away!" Clare sat down, and after a few minutes Dick resumed: "You passed my door to-day, and it's curious that I knew your step, though, if you can understand, without actually recognizing it. It was as if I was dreaming something that was real. The worst of being ill is that your brain gets working independently, bringing things up on its own account, without your telling it. Anyhow, I remembered the iron steps with the glow of the window through the curtain, and how you slipped--you wore little white shoes, and the moonlight shone through the branches on your dress." He broke off and frowned, for a vague, unpleasant memory obtruded itself. Something that had had disastrous consequences had happened in the quiet garden, but he could not remember what it was. "Why did Lucille call you _ma mignonne_?" he asked. "Doesn't it mean a petted child?" "Not always. She was my nurse when I was young." "Then you have lived here before?" "Not here, but in a country where there are people like Lucille, though it's long ago. But you mustn't speak another word. Go to sleep at once!" "Then stay where I can see you and I'll try," Dick answered; and although he did not mean to do so, presently closed his eyes. Clare waited until his quiet breathing showed that he was asleep, and then crossed the floor softly and stood looking down on him. There was light enough to see his face and it was worn and thin. His weakness moved her to pity, but there was something else. He had remembered that night in England, he knew her step and voice, and his rambling talk had caused her a thrill, for she remembered the night in England well. Brandon had shielded her from a man whom she had good ground for wishing to avoid. He had, no doubt, not quite understood the situation, but had seen that she needed help and chivalrously offered it. She knew he could be trusted and had without much hesitation made her unconventional request. He had then been marked by strong vitality and cheerful confidence, but he was ill and helpless now, and his weakness appealed to her as his vigor had not done. He was, in a way, dependent on her, and Clare felt glad this was so. She blushed as she smoothed the coverlet across his shoulders and then quietly stole away. There was no sea breeze next morning and the sun shone through a yellow haze that seemed to intensify the heat. The white walls reflected a curious subdued light that was more trying to the eyes than the usual glare, and the beat of the surf was slow and languid. The air was still and heavy, and Dick's fever, which had been abating, recovered force. He was hot and irritable, and his restlessness did not vanish until Clare came in at noon. "I've been watching for you since daybreak, and you might have come before," he said. "Lucille means well, but she's clumsy. She doesn't help one to be quiet as you do." "You're not quiet," Clare answered in a reproving tone. "Lucille is a very good nurse; better than I am." "Well," said Dick in a thoughtful tone, "perhaps she is, in a way. She never upsets the medicine on my pillow, as you did the last time. The nasty stuff got into my hair----" Clare raised her hand in remonstrance. "You really mustn't talk." "I'm going to talk," Dick answered defiantly. "It's bad for me to keep puzzling over things, and I mean to get them straight. Lucille's very patient, but she isn't soothing as you are. It rests one's eyes to look at you, but that's not altogether why I like you about. I expect it's because you knew I hadn't stolen those plans when everybody else thought I had. But then why did I tear your letter up?" Clare made an abrupt movement. She knew he must be kept quiet and his brain was not working normally, but his statement was disturbing. "You tore it up?" she asked, with some color in her face. "Yes," said Dick in a puzzled voice, "I tore it all to bits. There was a reason, though I can't remember it. In fact, I can't remember anything to-day. But don't go off if I shut my eyes for a minute: it wouldn't be fair." Clare turned her head, but except for this she did not move, and it was a relief when after a few disjointed remarks his voice died away. She was moved to pity, but for a few moments she had quivered in the grasp of another emotion. It was obvious that Dick did not altogether know what he was saying, but he had shown her plainly the place she had in his mind, and she knew she would not like to lose it. Half an hour later Lucille came in quietly and Clare went away. CHAPTER XI CLARE GETS A SHOCK For a week the stagnant heat brooded over Santa Brigida, sucking up the citizens' energy and leaving limp depression. Steaming showers that broke at intervals filled the air with an enervating damp, and the nights were worse than the days. No draught crept through the slits of windows into the darkened houses, and the musty smell that characterizes old Spanish cities gathered in the patios and sweltering rooms. This reacted upon Dick, who had a bad relapse, and for some days caused his nurses grave anxiety. There was sickness in the town and the doctor could spare but little time to him, the nursing sister was occupied, and Dick was, for the most part, left to Clare and Lucille. They did what they could; the girl with pitiful tenderness, the mulatto woman with patience and some skill, but Dick did not know until afterwards that, in a measure, he owed his life to them. Youth, however, was on his side, the delirium left him, and after lying for a day or two in half-conscious stupor, he came back to his senses, weak but with unclouded mind. He knew he was getting better and his recovery would not be long, but his satisfaction was marred by keen bitterness. Clare had stolen his papers and ruined him. Point by point he recalled his visit to Kenwardine's house, trying to find something that could be urged in the girl's defense and when he failed seeking excuses for her; but her guilt was obvious. He hated to own it, but the proof was overwhelming. She knew the power of her beauty and had treated him as a confiding fool. He was not revengeful and had been a fool, but it hurt him badly to realize that she was not what he had thought. He hardly spoke to Lucille, who came in now and then, and did not ask for Clare, as he had hitherto done. The girl did not know this because she was taking the rest she needed after a week of strain. Jake was his first visitor next morning and Dick asked for a cigarette. "I'm well enough to do what I like again," he said. "I expect you came here now and then." "I did, but they would only let me see you once. I suppose you know you were very ill?" "Yes; I feel like that. But I dare say you saw Kenwardine. It looks as if this is his house." "It is. We brought you here because it's near the street where you got stabbed." Dick said nothing for a minute, and then asked: "What's Kenwardine doing in Santa Brigida?" "It's hard to say. Like other foreigners in the town, he's probably here for what he can get; looking for concessions or a trading monopoly of some kind." "Ah!" said Dick. "I'm not sure. But do you like him?" "Yes. He strikes me as a bit of an adventurer, but so are the rest of them, and he's none the worse for that. Trying to get ahead of dago politicians is a risky job." "Is he running this place as a gambling house?" "No," said Jake warmly; "that's much too strong. There is some card play evenings, and I've lost a few dollars myself, but the stakes are moderate and anything he makes on the bank wouldn't be worth while. He enjoys a game, that's all. So do other people; we're not all like you." "Did you see Miss Kenwardine when you came for a game?" "I did, but I want to point out that I came to see you. She walked through the patio, where we generally sat, and spoke to us pleasantly, but seldom stopped more than a minute. A matter of politeness, I imagine, and no doubt she'd sooner have stayed away." "Kenwardine ought to keep her away. One wonders why he brought the girl to a place like this." Jake frowned thoughtfully. "Perhaps your remark is justified, in a sense, but you mustn't carry the idea too far. He's not using his daughter as an attraction; it's unthinkable." "That is so," agreed Dick. "Well," said Jake, "I allow that our talking about it is in pretty bad taste, but my view is this: Somehow, I don't think Kenwardine has much money and he may feel he has to give the girl a chance." "To marry some gambling rake?" "No," said Jake sharply. "It doesn't follow that a man is trash because he stakes a dollar or two now and then, and there are some pretty straight fellows in Santa Brigida." Then he paused and grinned. "Take yourself, for example; you've talent enough to carry you some way, and I'm open to allow you're about as sober as a man could be." "As it happens, I'm not eligible," Dick rejoined with a touch of grimness. "Kenwardine wouldn't think me worth powder and shot, and I've a disadvantage you don't know of yet." "Anyhow, it strikes me you're taking a rather strange line. Kenwardine let us bring you here when you were badly hurt, and Miss Kenwardine has given herself a good deal of trouble about you. In fact, I guess you owe it to her that you're recovering." "That's true, I think," said Dick. "I can't remember much about my illness, but I've a notion that she took very good care of me. Still, there's no reason I should give her further trouble when I'm getting better, and I want you to make arrangements for carrying me back to the dam. Perhaps a hammock would be the best plan." "You're not fit to be moved yet." "I'm going, anyhow," Dick replied with quiet resolution. After trying in vain to persuade him, Jake went away, and soon afterwards Kenwardine came in. The light was strong and Dick noted the touches of gray in his short, dark hair, but except for this he looked young and athletic. His figure was graceful, his dress picturesque, for he wore white duck with a colored silk shirt and red sash, and he had an easy, good-humored manner. Sitting down close by, he gave Dick a friendly smile. "I'm glad to find you looking better, but am surprised to hear you think of leaving us," he said. "My work must be falling behind and Stuyvesant has nobody to put in my place." "He sent word that they were getting on all right," Kenwardine remarked. "I'm afraid he was overstating it with a good motive. Then, you see, I have given you and Miss Kenwardine a good deal of trouble and can't take advantage of your kindness any longer. It would be an unfair advantage, because I'm getting well. Of course I'm very grateful, particularly as I have no claim on you." "That is a point you can hardly urge. You are a countryman, and your cousin is a friend of mine. I think on that ground we are justified in regarding you as an acquaintance." Dick was silent for a few moments. He felt that had things been different he would have liked Kenwardine. The man had charm and had placed him under a heavy obligation. Dick admitted this frankly, but could not stay any longer in his house. He had, however, a better reason for going than his dislike to accepting Kenwardine's hospitality. Clare had robbed him and he must get away before he thought of her too much. It was an awkward situation and he feared he had not tact enough to deal with it. "The truth is, I've no wish to renew my acquaintance with people I met in England, and I went to America in order to avoid doing so," he said. "You know what happened before I left." "Yes; but I think you are exaggerating its importance. After all, you're not the only man who has, through nothing worse than carelessness, had a black mark put against his name. You may have a chance yet of showing that the thing was a mistake." "Then I must wait until the chance comes," Dick answered firmly. "Very well," said Kenwardine. "Since this means you're determined to go, we must try to make it as easy as possible for you. I'll see the doctor and Mr. Fuller." He went out, and by and by Clare came in and noted a difference in Dick. He had generally greeted her as eagerly as his weakness allowed, and showed his dependence on her, but now his face was hard and resolute. The change was puzzling and disturbing. "My father tells me you want to go away," she remarked. "I don't want to, but I must," Dick answered with a candor he had not meant to show. "You see, things I ought to be looking after will all go wrong at the dam." "Isn't that rather egotistical?" Clare asked with a forced smile. "I have seen Mr. Bethune, who doesn't look overworked and probably doesn't mind the extra duty. In fact, he said so." "People sometimes say such things, but when they have to do a good deal more than usual they mind very much. Anyhow, it isn't fair to ask them, and that's one reason for my going away." Clare colored and her eyes began to sparkle. "Do you think we mind?" "I don't," Dick answered awkwardly, feeling that he was not getting on very well. "I know how kind you are and that you wouldn't shirk any trouble. But still----" "Suppose we don't think it a trouble?" Dick knitted his brows. It was hard to believe that the girl who sat watching him with a puzzled look was an adventuress. He had made her blush, and had come near to making her angry, while an adventuress would not have shown her feelings so easily. The light that shone through the window touched her face, and he noted its delicate modeling, the purity of her skin, and the softness of her eyes. The sparkle had gone, and they were pitiful. Clare had forgiven his ingratitude because he was ill. "Well," he said, "what you think doesn't alter the fact that I have given you trouble and kept you awake looking after me at night. I wasn't always quite sensible, but I remember how often you sat here and brought me cool things to drink. Indeed, I expect you helped to save my life." He paused and resumed in a voice that thrilled with feeling: "This wasn't all you did. When I was having a very bad time before I left England and everybody believed the worst, you sent me a letter saying that you knew I was innocent." "You told me you tore up the letter," Clare remarked quietly. Dick's face got red. He had not taken the line he meant to take and was obviously making a mess of things. "Are you sure I wasn't delirious?" "I don't think so. Did you tear up the letter?" He gave her a steady look, for he saw that he must nerve himself to face the situation. It was unfortunate that he was too ill to deal with it properly, but he must do the best he could. "I'll answer that if you'll tell me how you knew I was innocent." Clare looked puzzled, as if his manner had jarred; and Dick saw that she was not acting. Her surprise was real. He could not understand this, but felt ashamed of himself. "In a sense, of course, I didn't know," she answered with a touch of embarrassment. "Still, I felt you didn't steal the plans. It seemed impossible." "Thank you," said Dick, who was silent for the next few moments. He thought candor was needed and had meant to be frank, but he could not wound the girl who had taken care of him. "Anyhow, I lost the papers and that was almost as bad," he resumed feebly. "When you get into trouble people don't care much whether you're a rogue or a fool. You're in disgrace and that's all that matters. However, I mustn't bore you with my grumbling. I'm getting better and they want me at the dam." "Then I suppose you must go as soon as you are able," Clare agreed, and began to talk about something else. She left him soon and Dick lay still, frowning. It had been a trying interview and he doubted if he had come through it well, but hoped Clare would make allowances for his being ill. He did not want her to think him ungrateful, and had certainly no wish to punish her for what had happened in the past. But she had stolen his papers and he must get away. He was taken away next morning, with the consent of the doctor, who agreed that the air would be more invigorating on the hill. Clare did not come down to see him off and Dick felt strangely disappointed, although she had wished him a quick recovery on the previous evening. Kenwardine, however, helped him into his hammock and after the carriers started went back to the room where Clare sat. He noted that although the sun was hot the shutter was not drawn across the window, which commanded the street. "Well," he said, "Mr. Brandon has gone and on the whole that's a relief." "Do you know why he went so soon?" Clare asked. Kenwardine sat down and looked at her thoughtfully. He was fond of Clare, though he found her something of an embarrassment now and then. He was not rich and ran certain risks that made his ability to provide for her doubtful, while she had no marked talents to fall back upon if things went against him. There was, however, the possibility that her beauty might enable her to make a good marriage, and although Kenwardine could not do much at present to forward this plan he must try to prevent any undesirable entanglement. Brandon, for example, was not to be thought of, but he suspected Clare of some liking for the young man. "Yes," he said, "I know and sympathize with him. In fact, I quite see why he found it difficult to stay. The situation was only tolerable while he was very ill." "Why?" Kenwardine meant to tell her. It was better that she should smart a little now than suffer worse afterwards. "As soon as he began to get better Brandon remembered that we were the cause of his misfortunes. You can see how this complicated things." "But we had nothing to do with them," Clare said sharply. "What made him think we had?" "It's not an illogical conclusion when he imagines that he lost his papers in our house." Clare got up with a red flush in her face and her eyes sparkling. "It's absurd!" she exclaimed. "He must have been delirious when he said so." "He didn't say so in as many words; Brandon has some taste. But he was perfectly sensible and intended me to see what he meant." The girl stood still, trembling with anger and confusion, and Kenwardine felt sorry for her. She was worse hurt than he had expected, but she would rally. "But he couldn't have been robbed while he was with us," she said with an effort, trying to understand Dick's point of view. "He hadn't an overcoat, so the plans must have been in the pocket of his uniform, and nobody except myself was near him." She stopped with a gasp as she remembered how she had slipped and seized Dick. In doing so her hand had caught his pocket. Everything was plain now, and for a few moments she felt overwhelmed. Her face blanched, but her eyes were hard and very bright. Kenwardine left her, feeling that Brandon would have cause to regret his rashness if he ever attempted to renew her acquaintance, and Clare sat down and tried to conquer her anger. This was difficult, because she had received an intolerable insult. Brandon thought her a thief! It was plain that he did so, because the change in his manner bore out all her father had said, and there was no other explanation. Then she blushed with shame as she realized that from his point of view her unconventional behavior warranted his suspicions. She had asked him to come into the garden and had written him a note! This was horribly foolish and she must pay for it, but she had been mistaken about his character. She had, as a rule, avoided the men she met at her father's house and had shrunk with frank repugnance from one or two, but Brandon had seemed different. Then he had watched for her when he was ill and she had seen his heavy eyes get brighter when she came into the room. Now, however, she understood him better. She had some beauty and he had been satisfied with her physical attractiveness, although he thought her a thief. This was worse than the coarse admiration of the men she had feared. It was unthinkably humiliating, but her anger helped her to bear the blow. After all, she was fortunate in finding out what Brandon was, since it might have been worse had the knowledge come later. There was a sting in this that rankled, but she could banish him from her thoughts now. CHAPTER XII DICK KEEPS HIS PROMISE Twinkling points of light that pierced the darkness lower down the hill marked the colored laborers' camp, and voices came up faintly through the still air. The range cut off the land breeze, though now and then a wandering draught flickered down the hollow spanned by the dam, and a smell of hot earth and damp jungle hung about the veranda of Dick's iron shack. He sat near a lamp, with a drawing-board on his knee, while Jake lounged in a canvas chair, smoking and occasionally glancing at the sheet of figures in his hand. His expression was gloomily resigned. "I suppose you'll have things ready for us in the morning," Dick said presently. "François' accounts are checked and I'm surprised to find them right, but I imagine the other calculations will not be finished. Anyhow, it won't make much difference whether they are or not. I guess you know that!" "Well, of course, if you can't manage to do the lot----" "I don't say it's impossible," Jake rejoined. "But beginning work before breakfast is bad enough, without going on after dinner. Understand that I don't question your authority to find me a job at night; it's your object that makes me kick." "We want the calculations made before we set the boys to dig." "Then why didn't you give me them when I was doing nothing this afternoon?" Jake inquired. "I hadn't got the plans ready." "Just so. You haven't had things ready for me until after dinner all this week. As you're a methodical fellow that's rather strange. Still, if you really want the job finished, I'll have to do my best, but I'm going out first for a quarter of an hour." "You needn't," Dick said dryly. "If you mean to tell the engineer not to wait, he's gone. I sent him off some time since." "Of course you had a right to send him off," Jake replied in an injured tone. "But I don't quite think----" "You know what your father pays for coal. Have you reckoned what it costs to keep a locomotive two or three hours for the purpose of taking you to Santa Brigida and back?" "I haven't, but I expect the old man wouldn't stand for my running a private car," Jake admitted. "However, it's the only way of getting into town." "You were there three nights last week. What's more, you tried to draw your next month's wages. That struck me as significant, though I'd fortunately provided against it." "So I found out. I suppose I ought to be grateful for your thoughtfulness but can't say I am. I wanted the money because I had a run of wretched luck." "At the casino?" "No," said Jake, shortly. "Then you were at Kenwardine's; I'll own that's what I wanted to prevent. He's a dangerous man and his house is no place for you." "One would hardly expect you to speak against him. Considering everything, it's perhaps not quite in good taste." Dick put down the drawing-board and looked at him steadily. "It's very bad taste. In fact, I find myself in a very awkward situation. Your father gave me a fresh start when I needed it badly, and agreed when your sister put you in my charge." "Ida's sometimes a bit officious," Jake remarked. "Well," Dick continued, "I promised to look after you, and although I didn't know what I was undertaking, the promise must be kept. It's true that Kenwardine afterwards did me a great service; but his placing me under an obligation doesn't relieve me from the other, which I'd incurred first." Somewhat to his surprise, Jake nodded agreement. "No, not from your point of view. But what makes you think Kenwardine _is_ dangerous?" "I can't answer. You had better take it for granted that I know what I'm talking about, and keep away from him." "As a matter of fact, it was Miss Kenwardine to whom you owed most," Jake said meaningly. "Do you suggest that she's dangerous, too?" Dick frowned and his face got red, but he said nothing, and Jake resumed: "There's a mystery about the matter and you know more than you intend to tell; but if you blame the girl for anything, you're absolutely wrong. If you'll wait a minute, I'll show you what I mean." He went into the shack and came back with a drawing-block which he stood upon the table under the lamp, and Dick saw that it was a water-color portrait of Clare Kenwardine. He did not know much about pictures, but it was obvious that Jake had talent. The girl stood in the patio, with a pale-yellow wall behind her, over which a vivid purple creeper trailed. Her lilac dress showed the graceful lines of her slender figure against the harmonious background, and matched the soft blue of her eyes and the delicate white and pink of her skin. The patio was flooded with strong sunlight, but the girl looked strangely fresh and cool. "I didn't mean to show you this, but it's the best way of explaining what I think," Jake said with some diffidence. "I'm weak in technique, because I haven't been taught, but I imagine I've got sensibility. It's plain that when you paint a portrait you must study form and color, but there's something else that you can only feel. I don't mean the character that's expressed by the mouth and eyes; it's something vague and elusive that psychologists give you a hint of when they talk about the _aura_. Of course you can't paint it, but unless it, so to speak, glimmers through the work, your portrait's dead." "I don't quite understand; but sometimes things do give you an impression you can't analyze," Dick replied. "Well, allowing for poor workmanship, all you see here's harmonious. The blues and purples and yellows tone, and yet, if I've got the hot glare of the sun right, you feel that the figure's exotic and doesn't belong to the scene. The latter really needs an olive-skinned daughter of the passionate South; but the girl I've painted ought to walk in the moonlight through cool forest glades." Dick studied the picture silently, for he remembered with disturbing emotion that he had felt what Jake suggested when he first met Clare Kenwardine. She was frank, but somehow remote and aloof; marked by a strange refinement he could find no name for. He was glad that Jake did not seem to expect him to speak, but after a few moments the latter wrapped up the portrait and took it away. When he came back he lighted a cigarette. "Now," he said, "do you think it's sensible to distrust a girl like that? Admitting that her father makes a few dollars by gambling, can you believe that living with him throws any taint on her?" Dick hesitated. Clare had stolen his papers. This seemed impossible, but it was true. Yet when he looked up he answered as his heart urged him: "No. It sounds absurd." "It is absurd," Jake said firmly. Neither spoke for the next minute, and then Dick frowned at a disturbing thought. Could the lad understand Clare so well unless he loved her? "That picture must have taken some time to paint. Did Miss Kenwardine often pose for you?" "No," said Jake, rather dryly; "in fact, she didn't really pose at all. I had trouble to get permission to make one or two quick sketches, and worked up the rest from memory." "Yet she let you sketch her. It was something of a privilege." Jake smiled in a curious way. "I think I see what you mean. Miss Kenwardine likes me, but although I've some artistic taste, I'm frankly flesh and blood; and that's not quite her style. She finds me a little more in harmony with her than the rest, but this is all. Still, it's something to me. Now you understand matters, perhaps you won't take so much trouble to keep me out of Santa Brigida." "I'll do my best to keep you away from Kenwardine," Dick declared. "Very well," Jake answered with a grin. "You're quite a good sort, though you're not always very smart, and I can't blame you for doing what you think is your duty." Then he set to work on his calculations and there was silence on the veranda. Dick kept him occupied for the next week, and then prudently decided not to press the lad too hard by finding him work that obviously need not be done. If he was to preserve his power, it must be used with caution. The first evening Jake was free he started for Santa Brigida, though as there was no longer a locomotive available, he got two laborers to take him down the line on a hand-car. After that he had some distance to walk and arrived at Kenwardine's powdered with dust. It was a hot night and he found Kenwardine and three or four others in the patio. A small, shaded lamp stood upon the table they had gathered round, and the light sparkled on delicate green glasses and a carafe of wine. It touched the men's white clothes, and then, cut off by the shade, left their faces in shadow and fell upon the tiles. A colored paper lantern, however, hung from a wire near an outside staircase and Jake saw Clare a short distance away. It looked as if she had stopped in crossing the patio, but as he came forward Kenwardine got up. "It's some time since we have seen you," he remarked. "Yes," said Jake. "I meant to come before, but couldn't get away." "Then you have begun to take your business seriously?" "My guardian does." "Ah!" said Kenwardine, speaking rather louder, "if you mean Mr. Brandon, I certainly thought him a serious person. But what has this to do with your coming here?" "He found me work that kept me busy evenings." "With the object of keeping you out of mischief?" "I imagine he meant something of the kind," Jake admitted with a chuckle. He glanced round, and felt he had been too frank, as his eyes rested on Clare. He could not see her face, but thought she was listening. "Then it looks as if he believed we were dangerous people for you to associate with," Kenwardine remarked, with a smile. "Well, I suppose we're not remarkable for the conventional virtues." Jake, remembering Dick had insisted that Kenwardine was dangerous, felt embarrassed as he noted that Clare was now looking at him. To make things worse, he thought Kenwardine had meant her to hear. "I expect he really was afraid of my going to the casino," he answered as carelessly as he could. "Though he would not be much relieved to find you had come to my house instead? Well, I suppose one must make allowances for the Puritan character." "Brandon isn't much of a Puritan, and he's certainly not a prig," Jake objected. Kenwardine laughed. "I'm not sure this explanation makes things much better, but we'll let it go. We were talking about the new water supply. It's a harmless subject and you ought to be interested." Jake sat down and stole a glance at Clare as he drank a glass of wine. There was nothing to be learned from her face, but he was vexed with Kenwardine, who had intentionally involved him in an awkward situation. Jake admitted that he had not dealt with it very well. For all that, he began to talk about the irrigation works and the plans for bringing water to the town, and was relieved to see that Clare had gone when he next looked round. As a matter of fact, Clare had quietly stolen away and was sitting on a balcony in the dark, tingling with anger and humiliation. She imagined that she had banished Brandon from her thoughts and was alarmed to find that he had still power to wound her. It had been a shock to learn he believed that she had stolen his papers; but he had now warned his companion against her father and no doubt herself. Jake's manner when questioned had seemed to indicate this. By and by she tried, not to make excuses for Brandon, but to understand his point of view, and was forced to admit that it was not unreasonable. Her father now and then allowed, or perhaps encouraged, his guests to play for high stakes, and she had hated to see the evening gatherings of extravagant young men at their house in England. Indeed, she had eagerly welcomed the change when he had offered to take her abroad because business necessitated his leaving the country. Things had been better at Santa Brigida, but after a time the card playing had begun again. The men who now came to their house were, however, of a different type from the rather dissipated youths she had previously met. They were quieter and more reserved; men of experience who had known adventure. Still, she disliked their coming and had sometimes felt she must escape from a life that filled her with repugnance. The trouble was that she did not know where to find a refuge and could not force herself to leave her father, who had treated her with good-humored indulgence. Then she began to wonder what was the business that had brought him to Santa Brigida. He did not talk about it, but she was sure it was not gambling, as Brandon thought. No doubt he won some money from his friends, but it could not be much and he must lose at times. She must look for another explanation and it was hard to find. Men who did not play cards came to the house in the daytime and occasionally late at night, and Kenwardine, who wrote a good many letters, now and then went away down the coast. There was a mystery about his occupation that puzzled and vaguely alarmed her, and she could turn to nobody for advice. She had refused her aunt's offer of a home and knew it would not be renewed. They had cast her off and done with her. Getting up presently with a troubled sigh, she went to her room. In the meantime, Jake stayed in the patio with the others. A thin, dark Spaniard, who spoke English well, and two Americans occupied the other side of the table; a fat German sat nearly opposite the Spaniard and next to Jake. The heat made them languid and nobody wanted to play cards, although there was a pack on the table. This happened oftener than Brandon thought. "It's a depressing night and an enervating country," Kenwardine remarked. "I wonder why we stay here as we do, since we're apt to leave it as poor as when we came. The people are an unstable lot, and when you've spent your time and energy developing what you hope is a profitable scheme, some change of policy or leaders suddenly cuts it short." "I guess that explains why we _are_ here," one of the Americans replied. "The South is the home of the dramatic surprise and this appeals to us. In the North, they act by rule and one knows, more or less, what will happen; but this gives one no chances to bet upon." The fat German nodded. "It is the gambler's point of view. You people take with pleasure steep chances, as they say, but mine act not so. The system is better. One calculates beforehand what may happen and it is provided for. If things do not go as one expects, one labors to change them, and when this is not possible adopts an alternative plan." "But there always is a plan, Señor Richter!" the Spaniard remarked. Richter smiled. "With us, I think that is true. Luck is more fickle than a woman and we like not the surprise. But our effort is to be prepared for it." "You're a pretty hard crowd to run up against," said the other American. Jake, who had taken no part in the recent talk, and leaned languidly back in his chair, turned his head as he heard footsteps in the patio. They were quick and decided, as if somebody was coming straight towards the table, but they stopped suddenly. This seemed strange and Jake, who had caught a glimpse of a man in white clothes, looked round to see if Kenwardine had made him a sign. The latter, however, was lighting his pipe, but the Spaniard leaned forward a little, as if trying to see across the patio. Jake thought he would find this difficult with the light of the lamp in his eyes, but Richter, who sat opposite, got up and reached across the table. "With excuses, Don Sebastian, but the wine is on your side," he said, and filled his glass from the decanter before he sat down. In the meantime the man who had come in was waiting, but seemed to have moved, because Jake could only see an indistinct figure in the gloom. "Is that you, Enrique?" Kenwardine asked when he had lighted his pipe. "_Sí, señor_," a voice answered, and Kenwardine made a sign of dismissal. "_Bueno!_ You can tell me about it to-morrow. I am engaged now." The footsteps began again and when they died away Kenwardine picked up the cards. "Shall we play for half an hour?" he asked. The others agreed, but the stakes were moderate and nobody took much interest in the game; and Jake presently left the house without seeing anything more of Clare. He felt he had wasted the evening, but as he walked back to the line he thought about the man whom Kenwardine had sent away. He did not think the fellow was one of the servants, and it seemed strange that Richter should have got up and stood in front of Don Sebastian when the latter was trying to see across the patio. Still, there was no apparent reason why the Spaniard should want to see who had come in, and Jake dismissed the matter. CHAPTER XIII THE RETURN FROM THE FIESTA The sure-footed mules, braced hard against the weight of the carriage, slid down a steep descent across slippery stones when Clare, who wondered what would happen if the worn-out harness broke, rode into Adexe. Gleaming white houses rose one above another among feathery palms, with a broad streak of darker green in their midst to mark the shady alameda. Behind, the dark range towered against the sky; in front lay a foam-fringed beach and the vast blue sweep of dazzling sea. Music came up through the languid murmur of the surf, and the steep streets were filled with people whose clothes made patches of brilliant color. The carriage jolted safely down the hill, and Clare looked about with interest as they turned into the central plaza, where the driver stopped. "It's a picturesque little town and I'm glad you brought me," she said. "But what does the fiesta they're holding celebrate?" "I don't know; the first landing of the Spaniards, perhaps," Kenwardine replied. "Anyhow, it's a popular function, and as everybody in the neighborhood takes part in it, I came with the object of meeting some people I do business with. In fact, I may have to leave you for a time with the wife of a Spaniard whom I know." When coming down the hillside Clare had noticed a sugar mill and an ugly coaling wharf that ran out into the bay. Two steamers lay not far off, rolling gently on the glittering swell, and several lighters were moored against the wharf. Since she had never heard him speak of coal, she imagined her father's business was with the sugar mill, but he seldom talked to her about such matters and she did not ask. He took her to an old, yellow house, with tarnished brass rails barring its lower windows and a marble fountain in the patio, where brilliant creepers hung from the balconies. The soft splash of falling water was soothing and the spray cooled the air. "It is very pretty," Clare said while they waited. "I wish we could make our patio like this." "We may be able to do so when Brandon and his friends bring us the water," Kenwardine replied with a quick glance at the girl. "Have you seen him recently?" "Not for three or four weeks," said Clare. There was nothing to be learned from her face, but Kenwardine noted a hint of coldness in her voice. Next moment, however, a stout lady in a black dress, and a thin, brown-faced Spaniard came down to meet them. Kenwardine presented Clare, and for a time they sat on a balcony, talking in a mixture of French and Castilian. Then a man came up the outside staircase and took off his hat as he turned to Kenwardine. He had a swarthy skin, but Clare carelessly remarked that the hollows about his eyes were darker than the rest of his face, as if they had been overlooked in a hurried wash, and his bare feet were covered with fine, black dust. "Don Martin waits you, señor," he said. Kenwardine excused himself to his hostess, and after promising to return before long went away with the man. "Who is Don Martin, and does he own the coaling wharf?" Clare asked. "No," said the Spaniard. "What makes you imagine so?" "There was some coal-dust on his messenger." The Spaniard laughed. "Your eyes are as keen as they are bright, señorita, but your father spoke of business and he does not deal in coal. They use it for the engine at the sugar mill." "Could I follow him to the mill? I would like to see how they extract the sugar from the cane." "It is not a good day for that; the machinery will not be running," said the Spaniard, who looked at his wife. "I meant to take you to the cathedral. Everybody goes on the fiesta," the lady broke in. Clare agreed. She suspected that her father had not gone to the sugar mill, but this did not matter, and she presently left the house with her hostess. The small and rather dark cathedral was crowded, and Clare, who understood very little of what went on, was impressed by the close rows of kneeling figures, while the candles glimmering through the incense, and the music, had their effect. She came out in a thoughtful mood, partly dazzled by the change of light, and it was with something of a shock she stopped to avoid collision with a man at the bottom of the steps. It was Brandon, and she noted that he looked well again, but although they were face to face and he waited with his eyes fixed on her, she turned away and spoke to her companion. Dick crossed the street with his hand clenched and his face hot, but felt that he had deserved his rebuff. He could not expect Miss Kenwardine to meet him as a friend. An hour or two later, Kenwardine returned to the house with Richter, the German, and said he found he must drive to a village some distance off to meet an official whom he had expected to see in the town. He doubted if he could get back that night, but a sailing barquillo would take passengers to Santa Brigida, and Clare could go home by her. The girl made no objection when she heard that two French ladies, whom she knew, were returning by the boat, and stayed with her hostess when Kenwardine and Richter left. Towards evening the Spaniard came in and stated that the barquillo had sailed earlier than had been announced, but a steam launch was going to Santa Brigida with some friends of his on board and he could get Clare a passage if she would sooner go. Señor Kenwardine, he added, might drive home by another road without calling there again. Half an hour later Clare went with him to the coaling wharf, where a launch lay at some steps. A few people were already on board, and her host left after putting her in charge of a Spanish lady. The girl imagined that he was glad to get rid of her, and thought there was something mysterious about her father's movements. Something he had not expected must have happened, because he would not have brought her if he had known he could not take her home. It was, however, not a long run to Santa Brigida, by sea, and the launch, which had a powerful engine, looked fast. In another few minutes a man came down the steps and threw off a rope before he jumped on board. Taking off his hat to the passengers, he started the engine and sat down at the helm. Clare did not see his face until the launch was gliding away from the wharf, and then hid her annoyance and surprise, for it was Brandon. His eyes rested on her for a moment as he glanced about the boat, but she saw he did not expect recognition. Perhaps she had been wrong when she passed him outside the cathedral, but it was now too late to change her attitude. The water was smooth, the sun had sunk behind the range, and a warm breeze that ruffled the shining surface with silky ripples blew off the shore. The rumble of the surf came in a deep undertone through the throb of the engine, and the launch sped on with a frothy wave curling at her bows. Now and then Clare glanced quickly at the helmsman, who sat with his arm thrown round the tiller. She thought he looked disturbed, and felt sorry, though she told herself that she had done the proper thing. After a time the launch swung in towards the beach and stopped at a rude landing behind a reef. Houses showed among the trees not far off and Clare thought this was the pueblo of Arenas. Then she was disturbed to see that all her companions were going to land. When the Spanish lady said good-by she got up, with the idea of following the rest, but Dick stopped her. "Do you expect Mr. Kenwardine to meet you?" he asked. "No. I was told the launch was going to Santa Brigida, but didn't know that she was yours." Dick eyes twinkled. "I am going to Santa Brigida and the boat is one we use, but my colored fireman refused to leave the fiesta. Now you can't stay at Arenas, and I doubt if you can get a mule to take you home, because they'll all have gone to Adexe. But, if you like, we'll go ashore and try." "You don't think I could find a carriage?" Clare asked irresolutely, seeing that if she now showed herself determined to avoid him, it would be humiliating to be forced to fall back upon his help. "I don't. Besides, it's some distance to Santa Brigida over a rough, steep road that you'd find very awkward in the dark, while as I can land you in an hour, it seems unnecessary for you to leave the boat here." "Yes," said Clare, "perhaps it is." Dick threw some coal into the furnace, and restarted the launch. The throb of the engine was quicker than before, and when a jet of steam blew away from the escape-pipe Clare imagined that he meant to lose no time. She glanced at him as he sat at the helm with a moody face; and then away at the black hills that slid past. The silence was embarrassing and she wondered whether he would break it. On the whole, she wanted him to do so, but would give him no help. "Of course," he said at length, "you needn't talk if you'd sooner not. But you gave me the cut direct in Adexe, and although I may have deserved it, it hurt." "I don't see why it should hurt," Clare answered coldly. "Don't you?" he asked. "Well, you have the right to choose your acquaintances; but I once thought we were pretty good friends and I mightn't have got better if you hadn't taken care of me. That ought to count for something." Clare blushed, but her eyes sparkled and her glance was steady. "If we are to have an explanation, it must be complete and without reserve. Very well! Why did you change when you were getting better? And why did you hint that I must know you hadn't stolen the plans?" Dick studied her with some surprise. He had thought her gentle and trustful, but saw that she burned with imperious anger. It certainly was not acting and contradicted the supposition of her guilt. "If I did hint anything of the kind, I must have been a bit light-headed," he answered awkwardly. "You get morbid fancies when you have fever." "The fever had nearly gone. You were braver then than you seem to be now." "I suppose that's true. Sometimes a shock gives you pluck and I got a nasty one as I began to remember things." Both were silent for the next few moments. Clare's pose was tense and her look strained, but her anger had vanished. Dick thought she was calmer than himself, but after all, she was, so to speak, on her defense and her part was easier than his. He had forgiven her for robbing him; Kenwardine had forced her to do so, and Dick regretted he had not hidden his knowledge of the deed she must have hated. It was bodily weakness that had led him to show his suspicion, but he knew that if they were to be friends again no reserve was possible. As Clare had said, the explanation must be complete. It was strange, after what had happened, that he should want her friendship, but he did want it, more than anything else. Yet she must be told plainly what he had thought her. He shrank from the task. "What did you remember?" Clare asked, forcing herself to look at him. "That I had the plans in the left, top pocket of my uniform when I reached your house; I felt to see if they were there as I came up the drive," he answered doggedly. "Soon afterward, you slipped as we went down the steps into the garden and in clutching me your hand caught and pulled the pocket open. It was a deep pocket and the papers could not have fallen out." "So you concluded that I had stolen them!" Clare said in a cold, strained voice, though her face flushed crimson. "What else could I think?" Then, though she tried to hide the breakdown, Clare's nerve gave way. She had forced the crisis in order to clear herself, but saw that she could not do so. Dick's statement was convincing; the papers had been stolen while he was in their house, and she had a horrible suspicion that her father was the thief. It came with a shock, though she had already been tormented by a vague fear of the truth that she had resolutely refused to face. She remembered the men who were at the house on the eventful night. They were somewhat dissipated young sportsmen and not remarkable for intelligence. None of them was likely to take part in such a plot. "You must understand what a serious thing you are saying," she faltered, trying to doubt him and finding that she could not. "I do," he said, regarding her with gravely pitiful eyes. "Still, you rather forced it out of me. Perhaps this is a weak excuse, because I had meant to forget the matter." "But didn't you want to clear yourself and get taken back?" "No; I knew it was too late. I'd shown I couldn't be trusted with an important job; and I'd made a fresh start here." His answer touched the girl, and after a quick half-ashamed glance, she thought she had misjudged him. It was not her physical charm that had made him willing to condone her offense, for he showed none of the bold admiration she had shrunk from in other men. Instead, he was compassionate and, she imagined, anxious to save her pain. She did not answer and turning her head, vacantly watched the shore slide past. The mountains were growing blacker, trails of mist that looked like gauze gathered in the ravines, and specks of light began to pierce the gloom ahead. They marked Santa Brigida, and something must still be said before the launch reached port. It was painful that Brandon should take her guilt for granted, but she feared to declare her innocence. "You were hurt when I passed you at Adexe," she remarked, without looking at him. "You must, however, see that friendship between us is impossible while you think me a thief." "I must try to explain," Dick said slowly. "When I recovered my senses at your house after being ill, I felt I must get away as soon as possible, though I ought to have remembered only that you had taken care of me. Still, you see, my mind was weak just then. Afterwards I realized how ungratefully I had behaved. The plans didn't matter; they weren't really of much importance, and I knew if you had taken them, it was because you were forced. That made all the difference; in a way, you were not to blame. I'm afraid," he concluded lamely, "I haven't made it very clear." Clare was moved by his naïve honesty, which seemed to be guarded by something finer than common sense. After all, he had made things clear. He owned that he believed she had taken the plans, and yet he did not think her a thief. On the surface, this was rather involved, but she saw what he meant. Still, it did not carry them very far. "It is not long since you warned Mr. Fuller against us," she resumed. "Not against you; that would have been absurd. However, Jake's something of a gambler and your father's friends play for high stakes. The lad was put in my hands by people who trusted me to look after him. I had to justify their confidence." "Of course. But you must understand that my father and I stand together. What touches him, touches me." Dick glanced ahead. The lights of Santa Brigida had drawn out in a broken line, and those near the beach were large and bright. A hundred yards away, two twinkling, yellow tracks stretched across the water from the shadowy bulk of a big cargo boat. Farther on, he could see the black end of the mole washed by frothy surf. There was little time for further talk and no excuse for stopping the launch. "That's true in a sense," he agreed with forced quietness. "I've done you an injustice, Miss Kenwardine; so much is obvious, but I can't understand the rest just yet. I suppose I mustn't ask you to forget the line I took?" "We can't be friends as if nothing had happened." Dick made a gesture of moody acquiescence. "Well, perhaps something will clear up the matter by and by. I must wait, because while it's difficult now, I feel it will come right." A minute or two later he ran the launch alongside a flight of steps on the mole, and helping Clare to land went with her to her house. They said nothing on the way, but she gave him her hand when he left her at the door. CHAPTER XIV COMPLICATIONS It was dark outside the feeble lamplight, and very hot, when Dick sat on his veranda after a day of keen activity in the burning sun. He felt slack and jaded, for he had had difficult work to do and his dusky laborers had flagged under the unusual heat. There was now no touch of coolness in the stagnant air, and although the camp down the valley was very quiet a confused hum of insects came out of the jungle. It rose and fell with a monotonous regularity that jarred upon Dick's nerves as he forced himself to think. He was in danger of falling in love with Clare Kenwardine; indeed, he suspected that it would be better to face the truth and admit that he had already done so. The prudent course would be to fight against and overcome his infatuation; but suppose he found this impossible, as he feared? It seemed certain that she had stolen his papers; but after all he did not hold her accountable. Some day he would learn more about the matter and find that she was blameless. He had been a fool to think harshly of her, but he knew now that his first judgment was right. Clare, who could not have done anything base and treacherous, was much too good for him. This, however, was not the subject with which he meant to occupy himself, because if he admitted that he hoped to marry Clare, there were serious obstacles in his way. To begin with, he had made it difficult, if not impossible, for the girl to treat him with the friendliness she had previously shown; besides which, Kenwardine would, no doubt, try to prevent his meeting her, and his opposition would be troublesome. Then it was plainly desirable that she should be separated from her father, who might involve her in his intrigues, because there was ground for believing that he was a dangerous man. In the next place, Dick was far from being able to support a wife accustomed to the extravagance that Kenwardine practised. It might be long before he could offer her the lowest standard of comfort necessary for an Englishwoman in a hot, foreign country. He felt daunted, but not altogether hopeless, and while he pondered the matter Bethune came in. On the whole, Dick found his visit a relief. "I expect you'll be glad to hear we can keep the machinery running," Bethune said as he sat down. Dick nodded. Their fuel was nearly exhausted, for owing to strikes and shortage of shipping Fuller had been unable to keep them supplied. "Then you have got some coal? As there's none at Santa Brigida just now, where's it coming from?" "Adexe. Four big lighter loads. Stuyvesant has given orders to have them towed round." "I understood the Adexe people didn't keep a big stock. The wharf is small." "So did I, but it seems that Kenwardine came to Stuyvesant and offered him as much as he wanted." "Kenwardine!" Dick exclaimed. Bethune lighted his pipe. "Yes, Kenwardine. As the wharf's supposed to be owned by Spaniards, I don't see what he has to do with it, unless he's recently bought them out. Anyhow, it's high-grade navigation coal." "Better stuff than we need, but the difference in price won't matter if we can keep the concrete mill going," Dick remarked thoughtfully. "Still, it's puzzling. If Kenwardine has bought the wharf, why's he sending the coal away, instead of using it in the regular bunkering trade?" "There's a hint of mystery about the matter. I expect you heard about the collier tramp that was consigned to the French company at Arucas? Owing to some dispute, they wouldn't take the cargo and the shippers put it on the market. Fuller tried to buy some, but found that another party had got the lot. Well, Stuyvesant believes it was the German, Richter, who bought it up." "Jake tells me that Richter's a friend of Kenwardine's." "I didn't know about that," said Bethune. "They may have bought the cargo for some particular purpose, for which they afterwards found it wouldn't be required, and now want to sell some off." "Then Kenwardine must have more money than I thought." "The money may be Richter's," Bethune replied. "However, since we'll now have coal enough to last until Fuller sends some out, I don't know that we have any further interest in the matter." He glanced keenly at Dick's thoughtful face; and then, as the latter did not answer, talked about something else until he got up to go. After he had gone, Dick leaned back in his chair with a puzzled frown. He had met Richter and rather liked him, but the fellow was a German, and it was strange that he should choose an English partner for his speculations, as he seemed to have done. But while Kenwardine was English, Dick's papers had been stolen at his house, and his distrust of the man grew stronger. There was something suspicious about this coal deal, but he could not tell exactly what his suspicions pointed to, and by and by he took up the plan of a culvert they were to begin next morning. A few days later, Jake and he sat, one night, in the stern of the launch, which lay head to sea about half a mile from the Adexe wharf. The promised coal had not arrived, and, as fuel was running very short at the concrete mill, Dick had gone to see that a supply was sent. It was late when he reached Adexe, and found nobody in authority about, but three loaded lighters were moored at the wharf, and a gang of peons were trimming the coal that was being thrown on board another. Ahead of the craft lay a small tug with steam up. As the half-breed foreman declared that he did not know whether the coal was going to Santa Brigida or not, Dick boarded the tug and found her Spanish captain drinking caña with his engineer. Dick thought one looked at the other meaningly as he entered the small, hot cabin. "I suppose it's Señor Fuller's coal in the barges, and we're badly in want of it," he said. "As you have steam up, you'll start soon." "We start, yes," answered the skipper, who spoke some English, and then paused and shrugged. "I do not know if we get to Santa Brigida to-night." "Why?" Dick asked. "There's not very much wind, and it's partly off the land." The half-breed engineer described in uncouth Castilian the difficulties he had had with a defective pump and leaking glands, and Dick, who did not understand much of it, went back to his launch. Stopping the craft a short distance from the harbor, he said to Jake: "We'll wait until they start. Somehow I don't think they meant to leave to-night if I hadn't turned them out." Jake looked to windward. There was a moon in the sky, which was, however, partly obscured by driving clouds. The breeze was strong, but, blowing obliquely off the land did not ruffle the sea much near the beach. A long swell, however, worked in, and farther out the white tops of the combers glistened in the moonlight. Now and then a fresher gust swept off the shadowy coast and the water frothed in angry ripples about the launch. "They ought to make Santa Brigida, though they'll find some sea running when they reach off-shore to go round the Tajada reef," he remarked. "There's water enough through the inside channel." "That's so," Jake agreed. "Still, it's narrow and bad to find in the dark, and I expect the skipper would sooner go outside." Then he glanced astern and said, "They're coming out." Two white lights, one close above the other, with a pale red glimmer below, moved away from the wharf. Behind them three or four more twinkling red spots appeared, and Dick told the fireman to start the engine half-speed. Steering for the beach, he followed the fringe of surf, but kept abreast of the tug, which held to a course that would take her round the end of the reef. When the moon shone through he could see her plunge over the steep swell and the white wash at the lighters' bows as they followed in her wake; then as a cloud drove past, their dark hulls faded and left nothing but a row of tossing lights. By and by the launch reached a bend in the coastline and the breeze freshened and drew more ahead. The swell began to break and showers of spray blew on board, while the sea got white off-shore. "We'll get it worse when we open up the Arenas bight," said Jake as he glanced at the lurching tug. "It looks as if the skipper meant to give the reef a wide berth. He's swinging off to starboard. Watch his smoke." "You have done some yachting, then?" "I have," said Jake. "I used to sail a shoal-draught sloop on Long Island Sound. Anyway, if I'd been towing those coal-scows, I'd have edged in near the beach, for the sake of smoother water, and wouldn't have headed out until I saw the reef. It will be pretty wet on board the scows now, and they'll have had to put a man on each to steer." Dick nodded agreement and signed the fireman to turn on more steam as he followed the tug outshore. The swell got steadily higher and broke in angry surges. The launch plunged, and rattled as she swung her screw out of the sea, but Dick kept his course abreast of the tug, which he could only distinguish at intervals between the clouds of spray. Her masthead lights reeled wildly to and fro, but the low red gleam from the barges was hidden and he began to wonder why her captain was steering out so far. It was prudent not to skirt the reef, but the fellow seemed to be giving it unnecessary room. The lighters would tow badly through the white, curling sea, and there was a risk of the hawsers breaking. Besides, the engineer had complained that his machinery was not running well. A quarter of an hour later, a belt of foam between them and the land marked the reef, and the wind brought off the roar of breaking surf. Soon afterwards, the white surge faded, and only the tug's lights were left as a long cloud-bank drove across the moon. Jake stood up, shielding his eyes from the spray. "He's broken his rope; the coal's adrift!" he cried. Dick saw the tug's lights vanish, which meant that she had turned with her stern towards the launch; and then two or three twinkling specks some distance off. "He'd tow the first craft with a double rope, a bridle from his quarters," he said. "It's strange that both parts broke, and, so far as I can make out, the tail barge has parted her hawser, too." A whistle rang out, and Dick called for full-speed as the tug's green light showed. "We'll help him to pick up the barges," he remarked. The moon shone out as they approached the nearest, and a bright beam swept across the sea until it touched the lurching craft. Her wet side glistened about a foot above the water and then vanished as a white surge lapped over it and washed across her deck. A rope trailed from her bow and her long tiller jerked to and fro. It was obvious that she was adrift with nobody on board, and Dick cautiously steered the launch towards her. "That's curious, but perhaps the rest drove foul of her and the helmsman lost his nerve and jumped," he said. "I'll put Maccario on board to give us the hawser." "Then I'll go with him," Jake offered. "He can't handle the big rope alone." Dick hesitated. It was important that they should not lose the coal, but he did not want to give the lad a dangerous task. The barge was rolling wildly and he durst not run alongside, while some risk would attend a jump across the three or four feet of water between the craft. "I think you'd better stop here," he objected. "I don't," Jake answered with a laugh. "Guess you've got to be logical. You want the coal, and it will take us both to save it." He followed the fireman, who stood, balancing himself for a spring, on the forward deck, while Dick let the launch swing in as close as he thought safe. The man leapt and Dick watched Jake with keen anxiety as the launch rose with the next comber, but the lad sprang off as the bows went up, and came down with a splash in the water that flowed across the lighter's deck. Then Dick caught the line thrown him and with some trouble dragged the end of the hawser on board. He was surprised to find that it was not broken, but he waved his hand to the others as he drove the launch ahead, steering for the beach, near which he expected to find a passage through the reef. Before he had gone far the tug steamed towards him with the other barges in tow, apparently bound for Adexe. "It is not possible to go on," the skipper hailed. "Give me a rope; we take the lighter." "You shan't take her to Adexe," Dick shouted. "We want the coal." Though there was danger in getting too close, the captain let the tug drift nearer. "We bring you the lot when the wind drops." "No," said Dick, "I'll stick to what I've got." He could not catch the captain's reply as the tug forged past, but it sounded like an exclamation of anger or surprise, and he looked anxiously for the foam upon the reef. It was some time before he distinguished a glimmer in the dark, for the moon was hidden and his progress was slow. The lighter was big and heavily laden, and every now and then her weight, putting a sudden strain on the hawser, jerked the launch to a standstill. It was worse when, lifting with the swell, she sheered off at an angle to her course, and Dick was forced to maneuver with helm and engine to bring her in line again, at some risk of fouling the hawser with the screw. He knew little about towing, but he had handled small sailing boats before he learned to use the launch. The coal was badly needed and must be taken to Santa Brigida, though an error of judgment might lead to the loss of the barge and perhaps of his comrade's life. The phosphorescent gleam of the surf got plainer and the water smoother, for the reef was now to windward and broke the sea, but the moon was still covered, and Dick felt some tension as he skirted the barrier. He did not know if he could find the opening or tow the lighter through the narrow channel. The surf, however, was of help, for it flashed into sheets of spangled radiance as it washed across the reef, leaving dark patches among the lambent foam. The patches had a solid look, and Dick knew that they were rocks. At length he saw a wider break in the belt of foam, and the sharper plunging of the launch showed that the swell worked through. This was the mouth of the channel, and there was water enough to float the craft if he could keep off the rocks. Snatching the engine-lamp from its socket, he waved it and blew the whistle. A shout reached him and showed that the others understood. Dick felt his nerves tingle when he put the helm over and the hawser tightened as the lighter began to swing. If she took too wide a sweep, he might be unable to check her before she struck the reef, and there seemed to be a current flowing through the gap. Glancing astern for a moment, he saw her dark hull swing through a wide curve while the strain on the hawser dragged the launch's stern down, but she came round and the tension slackened as he steered up the channel. For a time he had less trouble than he expected; but the channel turned at its outer end and wind and swell would strike at him at an awkward angle, when he took the bend. As he entered it, the moon shone out, and he saw the black top of a rock dangerously close to leeward. He waved the lantern, but the lighter, with sea and current on her weather bow, forged almost straight ahead, and the straining hawser dragged the launch back. Reaching forward, Dick opened the throttle valve to its limit, and then sat grim and still while the throb of the screw shook the trembling hull. Something would happen in the next half minute unless he could get the lighter round. Glancing back, he saw her low, wet side shine in the moonlight. Two dark figures stood aft by the tiller, and he thought the foam about the rock was only a fathom or two away. The launch was hove down on her side. Though the screw thudded furiously, she seemed to gain no ground, and then the strain on the hawser suddenly slackened. Dick wondered whether it had broken, but he would know in the next few seconds; there was a sharp jerk, the launch was dragged to leeward, but recovered and forged ahead. She plunged her bows into a broken swell and the spray filled Dick's eyes, but when he could see again the foam was sliding past and a gap widened between the lighter's hull and the white wash on the rock. The water was deep ahead, and since he could skirt the beach and the wind came strongly off the land, the worst of his difficulties seemed to be past. Still, it would be a long tow to Santa Brigida, and bracing himself for the work, he lit his pipe. CHAPTER XV THE MISSING COAL Early next morning Dick stood in front of the Hotel Magellan, where he had slept for a few hours after his return, and was somewhat surprised to see that Jake had got up before him and was talking to a pretty, dark-skinned girl. She carried a large bunch of flowers and a basket of fruit stood close by, while Jake seemed to be persuading her to part with some. Dick stopped and watched them, for the glow of color held his eye. Jake's white duck caught the strong sunlight, while the girl's dark hair and eyes were relieved by the brilliant lemon-tinted wall and the mass of crimson bloom. Her attitude was coquettish, and Jake regarded her with an ingratiating smile. After a few moments, however, Dick went down the street and presently heard his comrade following him. When the lad came up, he saw that he had a basket of dark green fruit and a bunch of the red flowers. "I thought you were asleep. Early rising is not a weakness of yours," he said. "As it happens, I didn't sleep at all," Jake replied. "Steering that unhandy coal-scow rather got upon my nerves and when she took the awkward sheer as we came through the reef the tiller knocked Maccario down and nearly broke my ribs. I had to stop the helm going the wrong way somehow." Dick nodded. It was obvious that the lad had been quick and cool at a critical time, but his twinkling smile showed that he was now in a different mood. "You seem to have recovered. But why couldn't you leave the girl alone?" "I'm not sure she'd have liked that," Jake replied. "It's a pity you have no artistic taste, or you might have seen what a picture she made." "As a matter of fact, I did see it, but she has, no doubt, a half-breed lover who'd seriously misunderstand your admiration, which might lead to your getting stabbed some night. Anyhow, why did you buy the flowers?" "For one thing, she was taking them to the Magellan, and I couldn't stand for seeing that blaze of color wasted on the guzzling crowd you generally find in a hotel dining-room." "That doesn't apply to the fruit. You can't eat those things. They preserve them." "Eat them!" Jake exclaimed with a pitying look. "Well, I suppose it's the only use you have for fruit." He took a stalk fringed with rich red bloom and laid it across the dark green fruit, which was packed among glossy leaves. "Now, perhaps, you'll see why I bought it. I rather think it makes a dainty offering." "Ah!" said Dick. "To whom do you propose to offer it?" "Miss Kenwardine," Jake replied with a twinkle; "though of course her proper color's Madonna blue." Dick said nothing, but walked on, and when Jake asked where he was going, answered shortly: "To the telephone." "Well," said Jake, "knowing you as I do, I suspected something of the kind. With the romance of the South all round you, you can't rise above concrete and coal." He followed Dick to the public telephone office and sat down in the box with the flowers in his hands. A line had recently been run along the coast, and although the service was bad, Dick, after some trouble, got connected with a port official at Arenas. "Did a tug and three coal barges put into your harbor last night?" he asked. "No, señor," was the answer, and Dick asked for the coal wharf at Adexe. "Why didn't you call them first?" Jake inquired. "I had a reason. The tug was standing to leeward when she left us, but if her skipper meant to come back to Santa Brigida, he'd have to put into Arenas, where he'd find shelter." "Then you're not sure he meant to come back?" "I've some doubts," Dick answered dryly, and was told that he was connected with the Adexe wharf. "What about the coal for the Fuller irrigation works?" he asked. "The tug and four lighters left last night," somebody answered in Castilian, and Dick imagined from the harshness of the voice that one of the wharf-hands was speaking. "That is so," he said. "Has she returned yet?" "No, señor," said the man. "The tug----" He broke off, and there was silence for some moments, after which a different voice took up the conversation in English. "Sorry it may be a day or two before we can send more of your coal. The tug's engines----" "Has she got back?" Dick demanded sharply. "Speak louder; I cannot hear." Dick did so, but the other did not seem to understand. "In two or three days. You have one lighter." "We have. I want to know if the tug----" "The damage is not serious," the other broke in. "Then I'm to understand she's back in port?" A broken murmur answered, but by and by Dick caught the words, "Not longer than two days." Then he rang off, and pushing Jake's chair out of the way, shut the door. "It's plain that they don't mean to tell me what I want to know," he remarked. "The first man might have told the truth, if they had let him, but somebody pulled him away. My opinion is that the tug's not at Adexe and didn't go there." They went back to the hotel, and Dick sat down on a bench in the patio and lighted his pipe. "There's something very curious about the matter," he said. "When the tug left us she seemed to be heading farther off shore than was necessary," Jake agreed. "Still, the broken water wouldn't matter so much when she had the wind astern." "Her skipper wouldn't run off his course and lengthen the distance because the wind was fair." "No, I don't suppose he would." "Well," said Dick, "my impression is that he didn't mean to start at all, and wouldn't have done so if I hadn't turned him out." Jake laughed. "After all, there's no use in making a mystery out of nothing. The people offered us the coal, and you don't suspect a dark plot to stop the works. What would they gain by that?" "Nothing that I can see. I don't think they meant to stop the works; but they wanted the coal. It's not at Adexe, and there's no other port the tug could reach. Where has it gone?" "It doesn't seem to matter, so long as we get a supply before our stock runs out." "Try to look at the thing as I do," Dick insisted with a frown. "I forced the skipper to go to sea, and as soon as he had a good excuse his tow-rope parted, besides which the last barge went adrift from the rest. Her hawser, however, wasn't broken. It was slipped from the craft she was made fast to. Then, though the tug's engines were out of order, she steamed to leeward very fast and, I firmly believe, hasn't gone back to Adexe." "I expect there's a very simple explanation," Jake replied. "The truth is you have a rather senseless suspicion of Kenwardine." "I'll own I don't trust him," Dick answered quietly. Jake made an impatient gesture. "Let's see if we can get breakfast, because I'm going to his house afterwards." "They won't have got up yet." "It's curious that you don't know more about their habits after living there. Miss Kenwardine goes out with Lucille before the sun gets hot, and her father's about as early as you are." "What does he do in the morning?" "I haven't inquired, but I've found him in the room he calls his office. You're misled by the idea that his occupation is gambling." Dick did not reply, and was silent during breakfast. He understood Jake's liking for Kenwardine because there was no doubt the man had charm. His careless, genial air set one at one's ease; he had a pleasant smile, and a surface frankness that inspired confidence. Dick admitted that if he had not lost the plans at his house, he would have found it difficult to suspect him. But Jake was right on one point; Kenwardine might play for high stakes, but gambling was not his main occupation. He had some more important business. The theft of the plans, however, offered no clue to this. Kenwardine was an adventurer and might have thought he could sell the drawings, but since he had left England shortly afterwards, it was evident that he was not a regular foreign spy. It was some relief to think so, and although there was a mystery about the coal, which Dick meant to fathom if he could, nothing indicated that Kenwardine's trickery had any political aim. Dick dismissed the matter and remembered with half-jealous uneasiness that Jake seemed to know a good deal about Kenwardine's household. The lad, of course, had gone to make inquiries when he was ill, and had probably been well received. He was very little younger than Clare, and Fuller was known to be rich. It would suit Kenwardine if Jake fell in love with the girl, and if not, his extravagance might be exploited. For all that, Dick determined that his comrade should not be victimized. When breakfast was over they left the hotel and presently met Clare, who was followed by Lucille carrying a basket. She looked very fresh and cool in her white dress. On the whole, Dick would sooner have avoided the meeting, but Jake stopped and Clare included Dick in her smile of greeting. "I have been to the market with Lucille," she said. "The fruit and the curious things they have upon the stalls are worth seeing. But you seem to have been there, though I did not notice you." "No," said Jake, indicating the flowers and fruit he carried. "I got these at the hotel. The colors matched so well that I felt I couldn't let them go, and then it struck me that you might like them. Dick warned me that the things are not eatable in their present state, which is a pretty good example of his utilitarian point of view." Clare laughed as she thanked him, and he resumed: "Lucille has enough to carry, and I'd better bring the basket along." "Very well," said Clare. "My father was getting up when I left." Dick said nothing, and stood a yard or two away. The girl had met him without embarrassment, but it was Jake she had addressed. He felt that he was, so to speak, being left out. "Then I'll come and talk to him for a while," said Jake. "I don't know a nicer place on a hot morning than your patio." "But what about your work? Are you not needed at the dam?" "My work can wait. I find from experience that it will keep for quite a long time without shriveling away, though often it gets very stale. Anyhow, after being engaged on the company's business for the most part of last night, I'm entitled to a rest. My partner, of course, doesn't look at things like that. He's going back as fast as he can." Dick hid his annoyance at the hint. It was impossible to prevent the lad from going to Kenwardine's when Clare was there to hear his objections, and he had no doubt that Jake enjoyed his embarrassment. Turning away, he tried to forget the matter by thinking about the coal. Since Kenwardine was at home, it was improbable that he had been at Adexe during the night. If Clare had a part in her father's plots, she might, of course, have made the statement about his getting up with an object, but Dick would not admit this. She had helped the man once, but this was an exception, and she must have yielded to some very strong pressure. For all that, Dick hoped his comrade would not tell Kenwardine much about their trip in the launch. As a matter of fact, Jake handled the subject with some judgment when Kenwardine, who had just finished his breakfast, gave him coffee in the patio. They sat beneath the purple creeper while the sunshine crept down the opposite wall. The air was fresh and the murmur of the surf came languidly across the flat roofs. "Aren't you in town unusually early?" Kenwardine asked. "Well," said Jake with a twinkle, "you see we got here late." "Then Brandon was with you. This makes it obvious that you spent a perfectly sober night." Jake laughed. He liked Kenwardine and meant to stick to him, but although rash and extravagant, he was sometimes shrewd, and admitted that there might perhaps be some ground for Dick's suspicions. He was entitled to lose his own money, but he must run no risk of injuring his father's business. However, since Kenwardine had a share in the coaling wharf, he would learn that they had been to Adexe, and to try to hide this would show that they distrusted him. "Our occupation was innocent but rather arduous," he said. "We went to Adexe in the launch to see when our coal was coming." "Did you get it? The manager told me something about the tug's engines needing repairs." "We got one scow that broke adrift off the Tajada reef. They had to turn back with the others." "Then perhaps I'd better telephone to find out what they mean to do," Kenwardine suggested. Jake wondered whether he wished to learn if they had already made inquiries, and thought frankness was best. "Brandon called up the wharf as soon as the office was open, but didn't get much information. Something seemed to be wrong with the wire." "I suppose he wanted to know when the coal would leave?" "Yes," said Jake. "But he began by asking if the tug had come back safe, and got no further, because the other fellow couldn't hear." "Why was he anxious about the tug?" Kenwardine's manner was careless, but Jake imagined he felt more interest than he showed. "It was blowing pretty fresh when she left us, and if the scows had broken adrift again, there'd have been some risk of losing them. This would delay the delivery of the coal, and we're getting very short of fuel." "I see," said Kenwardine. "Well, if anything of the kind had happened, I would have heard of it. You needn't be afraid of not getting a supply." Jake waited. He thought it might look significant if he showed any eagerness to change the subject, but when Kenwardine began to talk about something else he followed his lead. Half an hour later he left the house, feeling that he had used commendable tact, but determined not to tell Brandon about the interview. Dick had a habit of exaggerating the importance of things, and since he already distrusted Kenwardine, Jake thought it better not to give him fresh ground for suspicion. There was no use in supplying his comrade with another reason for preventing his going to the house. CHAPTER XVI JAKE GETS INTO DIFFICULTIES Day was breaking, though it was still dark at the foot of the range, when Dick returned wearily to his iron shack after a night's work at the dam. There had been a local subsidence of the foundations on the previous afternoon, and he could not leave the spot until precautions had been taken to prevent the danger spreading. Bethune came with him to look at some plans, and on entering the veranda they were surprised to find the house well lighted and smears of mud and water upon the floor. "Looks as if a bathing party had been walking round the shack, and your boy had tried to clean up when he was half-asleep," Bethune said. Dick called his colored servant and asked him: "Why are all the lights burning, and what's this mess?" "Señor Fuller say he no could see the chairs." "Why did he want to see them?" "He fall on one, señor; t'row it wit' mucha force and fall on it again. Say dozenas of _malditos sillas_. If he fall other time, he kill my head." "Ah!" said Dick sharply. "Where is he now?" "He go in your bed, señor." "What has happened is pretty obvious," Bethune remarked. "Fuller came home with a big jag on and scared this fellow. We'd better see if he's all right." Dick took him into his bedroom and the negro followed. The room was very hot and filled with a rank smell of kerosene, for the lamp was smoking and the negro explained that Jake had threatened him with violence if he turned it down. The lad lay with a flushed face on Dick's bed; his muddy boots sticking out from under the crumpled coverlet. He seemed to be fully dressed and his wet clothes were smeared with foul green slime. There was a big red lump on his forehead. "Why didn't you put him into his own bed?" Dick asked the negro. "He go in, señor, and come out quick. Say no possible he stop. _Maldito_ bed is damp." Bethune smiled. "There'll be a big washbasket for the _lavenderas_ to-morrow, but we must take his wet clothes off." He shook Jake. "You've got to wake up!" After a time Jake opened his eyes and blinked at Bethune. "All right! You're not as fat as Salvador, and you can catch that chair. The fool thing follows me and keeps getting in my way." "Come out," Bethune ordered him, and turned to the negro. "Where's his pyjamas?" Salvador brought a suit, and Dick, who dragged Jake out of bed, asked: "How did you get into this mess?" "Fell into pond behind the dam; not safe that pond. Put a shingle up to-morrow, 'Keep off the grass.' No, that'sh not right. Let'sh try again. 'Twenty dollars fine if you spit on the sidewalk.'" Bethune grinned at Dick. "It's not an unusual notice in some of our smaller towns, and one must admit it's necessary. However, we want to get him into dry clothes." Jake gave them some trouble, but they put him in a re-made bed and went back to the verandah, where Bethune sat down. "Fuller has his good points, but I guess you find him something of a responsibility," he remarked. "I do," said Dick, with feeling. "Still, this is the first time he has come home the worse for liquor. I'm rather worried about it, because it's a new trouble." "And you had enough already?" Bethune suggested. "Well, though you're not very old yet, I think Miss Fuller did well to make you his guardian, and perhaps I'm to blame for his relapse, because I sent him to Santa Brigida. François was busy and there were a number of bills to pay for stores we bought in the town. I hope Fuller hasn't lost the money!" Dick felt disturbed, but he said, "I don't think so. Jake's erratic, but he's surprised me by his prudence now and then." Bethune left soon afterwards, and Dick went to bed, but got up again after an hour or two and began his work without seeing Jake. They did not meet during the day, and Dick went home to his evening meal uncertain what line to take. He had no real authority, and finding Jake languid and silent, decided to say nothing about his escapade. When the meal was finished, they left the hot room, as usual, for the verandah, and Jake dropped listlessly into a canvas chair. "I allow you're more tactful than I thought," he remarked with a feeble smile. "Guess I was pretty drunk last night." "It looked rather like it from your clothes and the upset in the house," Dick agreed. Jake looked thoughtful. "Well," he said ingenuously, "I _have_ been on a jag before, but I really don't often indulge in that kind of thing, and don't remember drinking enough to knock me out. You see, Kenwardine's a fastidious fellow and sticks to wine. The sort he keeps is light." "Then you got drunk at his house? I'd sooner have heard you were at the casino, where the Spaniards would have turned you out." "You don't know the worst yet," Jake replied hesitatingly. "As I'm in a very tight place, I'd better 'fess up. François doesn't seem to have told you that I tried to draw my pay for some months ahead." "Ah!" said Dick, remembering with uneasiness what he had learned from Bethune. "That sounds ominous. Did you----" "Let me get it over," Jake interrupted. "Richter was there, besides a Spanish fellow, and a man called Black. We'd been playing cards, and I'd won a small pile when my luck began to turn. It wasn't long before I was cleaned out and heavily in debt. Kenwardine said I'd had enough and had better quit. I sometimes think you don't quite do the fellow justice." "Never mind that," said Dick. "I suppose you didn't stop?" "No; I took a drink that braced me up and soon afterwards thought I saw my chance. The cards looked pretty good, and I put up a big bluff and piled on all I had." "But you had nothing; you'd lost what you began with." Jake colored. "Bethune had given me a check to bearer." "I was afraid of that," Dick said gravely. "But go on." "I thought I'd bluff them, but Black and the Spaniard told me to play, though Kenwardine held back at first. Said they didn't want to take advantage of my rashness and I couldn't make good. Well, I saw how I could put it over, and it looked as if they couldn't stop me, until Black brought out a trump I didn't think he ought to have. After that I don't remember much, but imagine I turned on the fellow and made some trouble." "Can you remember how the cards went?" "No," said Dick awkwardly, "not now, and I may have been mistaken about the thing. I believe I fell over the table and they put me on a couch. After a time, I saw there was nobody in the room, and thought I'd better get out." He paused and added with a flush: "I was afraid Miss Kenwardine might find me in the morning." "You can't pay back the money you lost?" "I can't. The check will show in the works' accounts and there'll sure be trouble if the old man hears of it." Dick was silent for a few moments. It was curious that Jake had tried to defend Kenwardine; but this did not matter. The lad's anxiety and distress were plain. "If you'll leave the thing entirely in my hands, I'll see what can be done," he said. "I'll have to tell Bethune." "I'll do whatever you want, if you'll help me out," Jake answered eagerly, and after asking some questions about his losses, Dick went to Bethune's shack. Bethune listened thoughtfully to what he had to say, and then remarked: "We'll take it for granted that you mean to see him through. Have you enough money?" "No; that's why I came." "You must get the check back, anyhow," said Bethune, who opened a drawer and took out a roll of paper currency. "Here's my pile, and it's at your service, but it won't go far enough." "I think it will, with what I can add," said Dick, after counting the bills. "You see, I don't mean to pay the full amount." Bethune looked at him and smiled. "Well, that's rather unusual, but if they made him drunk and the game was not quite straight! Have you got his promise not to play again?" "I haven't. What I'm going to do will make it awkward, if not impossible. Besides, he'll have no money. I'll stop what he owes out of his pay." "A good plan! However, I won't lend you the money; I'll lend it Jake, which makes him responsible. But your pay's less than mine, and you'll have to economize for the next few months." "That won't matter," Dick answered quietly. "I owe Fuller something, and I like the lad." He went back to his shack and said to Jake, "We'll be able to clear off the debt, but you must ask no questions and agree to any arrangement I think it best to make." "You're a good sort," Jake said with feeling; but Dick cut short his thanks and went off to bed. Next morning he started for Santa Brigida, and when he reached Kenwardine's house met Clare on a balcony at the top of the outside stairs. Somewhat to his surprise, she stopped him with a sign, and then stood silent for a moment, looking disturbed. "Mr. Brandon," she said hesitatingly, "I resented your trying to prevent Mr. Fuller coming here, but I now think it better that he should keep away. He's young and extravagant, and perhaps----" "Yes," said Dick, who felt sympathetic, knowing what her admission must have cost. "I'm afraid he's also rather unsteady." Clare looked at him with some color in her face. "I must be frank. Something happened recently that showed me he oughtn't to come. I don't think I realized this before." "Then you know what happened?" "Not altogether," Clare replied. "But I learned enough to alarm and surprise me. You must understand that I didn't suspect----" She paused with signs of confusion and then resumed: "Of course, people of different kinds visit my father on business, and sometimes stay an hour or two afterwards, and he really can't be held responsible for them. The customs of the country force him to be friendly; you know in Santa Brigida one's office is something like an English club. Well, a man who doesn't come often began a game of cards and when Mr. Fuller----" "Just so," said Dick as quietly as he could. "Jake's rash and not to be trusted when there are cards about; indeed, I expect he's a good deal to blame, but I'm now going to ask your father not to encourage his visits. I've no doubt he'll see the reason for this." "I'm sure he'll help you when he understands," Clare replied, and after giving Dick a grateful look moved away. Dick went along the balcony, thinking hard. It was obvious that Clare had found the interview painful, though he had tried to make it easier for her. She had been alarmed, but he wondered whether she had given him the warning out of tenderness for Jake. It was probable that she really thought Kenwardine was not to blame, but it must have been hard to acknowledge that his house was a dangerous place for an extravagant lad. Still, a girl might venture much when fighting for her lover. Dick frowned as he admitted this. Jake was a good fellow in spite of certain faults, but it was disturbing to think that Clare might be in love with him. It was something of a relief when Kenwardine met him at the door of his room and took him in. Dick felt that tact was not so needful now, because the hospitality shown him was counterbalanced by the theft of the plans, and he held Kenwardine, not Clare, accountable for this. Kenwardine indicated a chair, and then sat down. "As you haven't been here since you got better, I imagine there's some particular reason for this call," he said, with a smile. "That is so," Dick agreed. "I've come on Fuller's behalf. He gave you a check the other night. Have you cashed it yet?" "No. I imagined he might want to redeem it." "He does; but, to begin with, I'd like to know how much he lost before he staked the check. I understand he increased the original stakes during the game." "I dare say I could tell you, but I don't see your object." "I'll explain it soon. We can't get on until I know the sum." Kenwardine took a small, card-scoring book from a drawer, and after a few moments stated the amount Jake had lost. "Thank you," said Dick. "I'll pay you the money now in exchange for the check." "But he lost the check as well." Dick hesitated. He had a repugnant part to play, since he must accuse the man who had taken him into his house when he was wounded of conspiring to rob a drunken lad. For all that, his benefactor's son should not be ruined, and he meant to separate him from Kenwardine. "I think not," he answered coolly. "But suppose we let that go? The check is worthless, because payment can be stopped, but I'm willing to give you what Fuller had already lost." Kenwardine raised his eyebrows in ironical surprise. "This is a somewhat extraordinary course. Is Mr. Fuller in the habit of disowning his debts? You know the rule about a loss at cards." "Fuller has left the thing in my hands, and you must hold me responsible. I mean to stick to the line I've taken." "Then perhaps you won't mind explaining on what grounds you take it." "Since you insist! Fuller was drunk when he made the bet. As you were his host, it was your duty to stop the game." "The exact point when an excited young man ceases to be sober is remarkably hard to fix," Kenwardine answered dryly. "It would be awkward for the host if he fixed it too soon, and insulting to the guest." "That's a risk you should have taken. For another thing, Fuller states that a trump was played by a man who ought not to have had it." Kenwardine smiled. "Doesn't it strike you that you're urging conflicting reasons? First you declare that Fuller was drunk, and then that he was able to detect clever players at cheating. Your argument contradicts itself and is plainly absurd." "Anyhow, I mean to urge it," Dick said doggedly. "Well," said Kenwardine with a steady look, "I've no doubt you see what this implies. You charge me with a plot to intoxicate your friend and take a mean advantage of his condition." "No; I don't go so far. I think you should have stopped the game, but Fuller accuses a man called Black of playing the wrong card. In fact, I admit that you don't mean to harm him, by taking it for granted that you'll let me have the check, because if you kept it, you'd have some hold on him." "A firm hold," Kenwardine remarked. Dick had partly expected this, and had his answer ready. "Not so firm as you think. If there was no other way, it would force me to stop payment and inform my employer. It would be much better that Jake should have to deal with his father than with your friends." "You seem to have thought over the matter carefully," Kenwardine rejoined. "Well, personally, I'm willing to accept your offer and give up the check; but I must consult the others, since their loss is as much as mine. Will you wait while I go to the telephone?" Dick waited for some time, after which Kenwardine came back and gave him the check. As soon as he got it Dick left the house, satisfied because he had done what he had meant to do, and yet feeling doubtful. Kenwardine had given way too easily. It looked as if he was not convinced that he must leave Fuller alone. On reaching the dam Dick gave Jake the check and told him how he had got it. The lad flushed angrily, but was silent for a moment, and then gave Dick a curious look. "I can't deny your generosity, and I'll pay you back; but you see the kind of fellow you make me out." "I told Kenwardine you left me to deal with the matter, and the plan was mine," said Dick. Jake signified by a gesture that the subject must be dropped. "As I did agree to leave it to you, I can't object. After all, I expect you meant well." CHAPTER XVII THE BLACK-FUNNEL BOAT The breeze had fallen and the shining sea was smooth as glass when the launch passed Adexe. Dick, who lounged at the helm, was not going there. Some alterations to a mole along the coast had just been finished, and Stuyvesant had sent him to engage the contractor who had done the concrete work. Jake, who occasionally found his duties irksome, had insisted on coming. As they crossed the mouth of the inlet, Dick glanced shorewards through his glasses. The whitewashed coal-sheds glistened dazzlingly, and a fringe of snowy surf marked the curve of beach, but outside this a belt of cool, blue water extended to the wharf. The swell surged to and fro among the piles, checkered with purple shadows and laced with threads of foam, but it was the signs of human activity that occupied Dick's attention. He noticed the cloud of dust that rolled about the mounds of coal upon the wharf and blurred the figures of the toiling peons, and the way the tubs swung up and down from the hatches of an American collier until the rattle of her winches suddenly broke off. "They seem to be doing a big business," he remarked. "It looks as if that boat had stopped discharging, but she must have landed a large quantity of coal." "There's pretty good shelter at Adexe," Jake replied. "In ordinary weather, steamers can come up to the wharf, instead of lying a quarter of a mile off, as they do at Santa Brigida. However, there's not much cargo shipped, and a captain who wanted his bunkers filled would have to make a special call with little chance of picking up any freight. That must tell against the place." They were not steaming fast, and just before a projecting point shut in the inlet the deep blast of a whistle rang across the water and the collier's dark hull swung out from the wharf. A streak of foam, cut sharply between her black side and the shadowed blue of the sea, marked her load-line, and she floated high, but not as if she were empty. "Going on somewhere else to finish, I guess," said Jake. "How much do you reckon she has discharged?" "Fifteen hundred tons, if she was full when she came in, and I imagine they hadn't much room in the sheds before. I wonder where Kenwardine gets the money, unless his friend, Richter, is rich." "Richter has nothing to do with the business," Jake replied. "He was to have had a share, but they couldn't come to a satisfactory agreement." Dick looked at him sharply. "How do you know?" "I really don't know much. Kenwardine said something about it one night when I was at his house." "Did somebody ask him?" "No," said Jake, "I don't think so. The subject, so to speak, cropped up and he offered us the information." Then he talked of something else and soon afterwards the coast receded as they crossed a wide bay. It was about four o'clock in the afternoon when they reached the farthest point from land. There was no wind, and in the foreground the sea ran in long undulations whose backs blazed with light. Farther off, the gentle swell was smoothed out and became an oily expanse that faded into the glitter on the horizon, but at one point the latter was faintly blurred. A passing vessel, Dick thought, and occupied himself with the engine, for he had not brought the fireman. Looking round some time afterwards, he saw that the ship had got more distinct and picked up his glasses. She was a two-masted steamer and, cut off by the play of reflected light, floated like a mirage between sky and sea. After studying her for a minute, Dick gave Jake the glasses. "It's a curious effect, but not uncommon on a day like this," he said. "She's like the big Spanish boats and has their tall black funnel." "She's very like them," Jake agreed. "There's no smoke, and no wash about her. It looks as if they'd had some trouble in the engine-room and she'd stopped." Dick nodded and glanced across the dazzling water towards the high, blue coast. He did not think the steamer could be seen from the land, and the launch would, no doubt, be invisible from her deck, but this was not important and he began to calculate how long it would take them to reach a point ahead. Some time later, he looked round again. The steamer was fading in the distance, but no smoke trailed behind her and he did not think she had started yet. His attention, however, was occupied by the headland he was steering for, because he thought it marked the neighborhood of their port. He spent an hour in the place before he finished his business and started home, and when they were about half-way across the bay the light began to fade. The sun had sunk and the high land cut, harshly blue, against a saffron glow; the sea was shadowy and colorless in the east. Presently Jake, who sat facing aft, called out: "There's a steamer's masthead light coming up astern of us. Now I see her side lights, and by the distance between them she's a big boat." Dick changed his course, because the steamer's three lights would not have been visible unless she was directly following him and the launch's small yellow funnel and dingy white topsides would be hard to distinguish. When he had shut out one of the colored side lights and knew he was safe, he stopped the engine to wait until the vessel passed. There was no reason why he should do so, but somehow he felt interested in the ship. Lighting his pipe, he studied her through the glasses, which he gave to Jake. "She's the boat we saw before," he said. "That's so," Jake agreed. "Her engines are all right now because she's steaming fast." Dick nodded, for he had marked the mass of foam that curled and broke away beneath the vessel's bow, but Jake resumed: "It looks as if her dynamo had stopped. There's nothing to be seen but her navigation lights and she's certainly a passenger boat. They generally glitter like a gin-saloon." The ship was getting close now and Dick, who asked for the glasses, examined her carefully as she came up, foreshortened, on their quarter. Her dark bow looked very tall and her funnel loomed, huge and shadowy, against the sky. Above its top the masthead light shed a yellow glimmer, and far below, the sea leapt and frothed about the line of hull. This drew out and lengthened as she came abreast of them, but now he could see the tiers of passenger decks, one above the other, there was something mysterious in the gloom that reigned on board. No ring of light pierced her long dark side and the gangways behind the rails and rows of stanchions looked like shadowy caves. In the open spaces, forward and aft, however, bodies of men were gathered, their clothes showing faintly white, but they stood still in a compact mass until a whistle blew and the indistinct figures scattered across the deck. "A big crew," Jake remarked. "Guess they've been putting them through a boat or fire drill." Dick did not answer, but when the vessel faded into a hazy mass ahead he started the engine and steered into her eddying wake, which ran far back into the dark. Then after a glance at the compass, he beckoned Jake. "Look how she's heading." Jake told him and he nodded. "I made it half a point more to port, but this compass swivels rather wildly. Where do you think she's bound?" "To Santa Brigida; but, as you can see, not direct. I expect her skipper wants to take a bearing from the Adexe lights. You are going there and her course is the same as ours." "No," said Dick; "I'm edging in towards the land rather short of Adexe. As we have the current on our bow, I want to get hold of the beach as soon as I can, for the sake of slacker water. Anyway, a big boat would keep well clear of the shore until she passed the Tajada reef." "Then she may be going into Adexe for coal." "That vessel wouldn't float alongside the wharf, and her skipper would sooner fill his bunkers where he'd get passengers and freight." "Well, I expect we'll find her at Santa Brigida when we arrive." They looked round, but the sea was now dark and empty and they let the matter drop. When they crossed the Adexe bight no steamer was anchored near, but a cluster of lights on the dusky beach marked the coaling wharf. "They're working late," Dick said. "Can you see the tug?" "You'd have to run close in before you could do so," Jake replied. "I expect they're trimming the coal the collier landed into the sheds." "It's possible," Dick agreed, and after hesitating for a few moments held on his course. He remembered that one can hear a launch's engines and the splash of torn-up water for some distance on a calm night. After a time, the lights of Santa Brigida twinkled ahead, and when they steamed up to the harbor both looked about. The American collier and a big cargo-boat lay with the reflections of their anchor-lights quivering on the swell, but there was no passenger liner to be seen. A man came to moor the launch when they landed, and Jake asked if the vessel he described had called. "No, señor," said the man. "The only boats I know like that are the Cadiz liners, and the next is not due for a fortnight." "Her model's a pretty common one for big passenger craft," Jake remarked to Dick as they went up the mole. "Still, the thing's curious. She wasn't at Adexe and she hasn't been here. She certainly passed us, steering for the land, and I don't see where she could have gone." Dick began to talk about something else, but next morning asked Stuyvesant for a day's leave. Stuyvesant granted it and Dick resumed: "Do you mind giving me a blank order form? I'm going to Adexe, and the storekeeper wants a few things we can't get in Santa Brigida." Stuyvesant signed the form. "There it is. The new coaling people seem an enterprising crowd, and you can order anything they can supply." Dick hired a mule and took the steep inland road; but on reaching Adexe went first to the sugar mill and spent an hour with the American engineer, whose acquaintance he had made. Then, having, as he thought, accounted for his visit, he went to the wharf and carefully looked about as he made his way to the manager's office. A few grimy peons were brushing coal-dust off the planks, their thinly-clad forms silhouetted against the shining sea. Their movements were languid, and Dick wondered whether this was due to the heat or if it was accounted for by forced activity on the previous night. A neatly built stack of coal stood beside the whitewashed sheds, but nothing suggested that it had been recently broken into. Passing it carelessly Dick glanced into the nearest shed, which was almost full, though its proximity to deep water indicated that supplies would be drawn from it before the other. Feeling rather puzzled, he stopped in front of the next shed and noted that there was much less coal in this. Moreover, a large number of empty bags lay near the entrance, as if they had been used recently and the storekeeper had not had time to put them away. Two men were folding up the bags, but, by contrast with the glitter outside, the shed was dark, and Dick's eyes were not accustomed to the gloom. Still he thought one of the men was Oliva, the contractor whom Stuyvesant had dismissed. Next moment the fellow turned and threw a folded bag aside, after which he walked towards the other end of the shed. His movements were leisurely, but he kept his back to Dick and the latter thought this significant, although he was not sure the man had seen him. As he did not want to be seen loitering about the sheds, he walked on, feeling puzzled. Since he did not know what stock the company had held, it was difficult to tell if coal had recently been shipped, but he imagined that some must have left the wharf after the collier had unloaded. He was used to calculating weights and cubic quantities, and the sheds were not large. Taking it for granted that the vessel had landed one thousand five hundred tons, he thought there ought to be more about than he could see. Still, if some had been shipped, he could not understand why it had been taken, at a greater cost for labor, from the last shed, where one would expect the company to keep their reserve supply. He might, perhaps, find out something from the manager, but this would need tact. Entering the small, hot office, he found a suave Spanish gentleman whom he had already met. The latter greeted him politely and gave him a cigar. "It is not often you leave the works, but a change is good," he said. "We're not quite so busy and I promised to pay Allen at the sugar mill a visit," Dick replied. "Besides, I had an excuse for the trip. We're short of some engine stores that I dare say you can let us have." He gave the manager a list, and the Spaniard nodded as he marked the items. "We can send you most of the things. It pays us to stock goods that the engineers of the ships we coal often want; but there are some we have not got." "Very well," said Dick. "I'll fill up our form for what you have and you can put the things on board the tug the first time she goes to Santa Brigida." "She will go in three or four days." Dick decided that as the launch had probably been seen, he had better mention his voyage. "That will be soon enough. If our storekeeper had told me earlier, I would have called here yesterday. I passed close by on my way to Orava." "One of the peons saw your boat. It is some distance to Orava." "The sea was very smooth," said Dick. "I went to engage a contractor who had been at work upon the mole." So far, conversation had been easy, and he had satisfactorily accounted for his passing the wharf, without, he hoped, appearing anxious to do so; but he had learned nothing yet, although he thought the Spaniard was more interested in his doings than he looked. "The collier was leaving as we went by," he resumed. "Trade must be good, because she seemed to have unloaded a large quantity of coal." "Sixteen hundred tons," said the manager. "In war time, when freights advance, it is wise to keep a good stock." As this was very nearly the quantity Dick had guessed, he noted the man's frankness, but somehow imagined it was meant to hide something. "So long as you can sell the stock," he agreed. "War, however, interferes with trade, and the French line have reduced their sailings, while I expect the small British tramps won't be so numerous." "They have nothing to fear in these waters." "I suppose they haven't, and vessels belonging to neutral countries ought to be safe," said Dick. "Still, the Spanish company seem to have changed their sailings, because I thought I saw one of their boats yesterday; but she was a long way off on the horizon." He thought the other gave him a keen glance, but as the shutters were partly closed the light was not good, and the man answered carelessly: "They do not deal with us. Adexe is off their course and no boats so large can come up to the wharf." "Well," said Dick, who believed he had admitted enough to disarm any suspicion the other might have entertained, "doesn't coal that's kept exposed to the air lose some of its heating properties?" "It does not suffer much damage. But we will drink a glass of wine, and then I will show you how we keep our coal." "Thanks. These things interest me, but I looked into the sheds as I passed," Dick answered as he drank his wine. They went out and when they entered the first shed the Spaniard called a peon and gave him an order Dick did not catch. Then he showed Dick the cranes, and the trucks that ran along the wharf on rails, and how they weighed the bags of coal. After a time they went into a shed that was nearly empty and Dick carefully looked about. Several peons were at work upon the bags, but Oliva was not there. Dick wondered whether he had been warned to keep out of sight. As they went back to the office, his companion looked over the edge of the wharf and spoke to a seaman on the tug below. Her fires were out and the hammering that came up through the open skylights indicated that work was being done in her engine-room. Then one of the workmen seemed to object to something another said, for Dick heard "No; it must be tightened. It knocked last night." He knew enough Castilian to feel sure he had not been mistaken, and the meaning of what he had heard was plain. A shaft-journal knocks when the bearings it revolves in have worn or shaken loose, and the machinery must have been running when the engineer heard the noise. Dick thought it better to light a cigarette, and was occupied shielding the match with his hands when the manager turned round. A few minutes later he stated that as it was a long way to Santa Brigida he must start soon and after some Spanish compliments the other let him go. He followed the hill road slowly in a thoughtful mood. The manager had been frank, but Dick suspected him of trying to show that he had nothing to hide. Then he imagined that a quantity of coal had been shipped since the previous day, and if the tug had been at sea at night, she must have been used for towing lighters. The large vessel he had seen was obviously a passenger boat, but fast liners could be converted into auxiliary cruisers. There were, however, so far as he knew, no enemy cruisers in the neighborhood; indeed, it was supposed that they had been chased off the seas. Still, there was something mysterious about the matter, and he meant to watch the coaling company and Kenwardine. CHAPTER XVIII DICK GETS A WARNING On the evening of one pay-day, Dick took a short cut through the half-breed quarter of Santa Brigida. As not infrequently happens in old Spanish cities, this unsavory neighborhood surrounded the cathedral and corresponded in character with the localities known in western America as "across the track." Indeed, a Castilian proverb bluntly plays upon the juxtaposition of vice and bells. Ancient houses rose above the dark and narrow street. Flakes of plaster had fallen from their blank walls, the archways that pierced them were foul and strewn with refuse, and a sour smell of decay and garbage tainted the stagnant air. Here and there a grossly fat, slatternly woman leaned upon the rails of an outside balcony; negroes, Chinamen, and half-breeds passed along the broken pavements; and the dirty, open-fronted wine-shops, where swarms of flies hovered about the tables, were filled with loungers of different shades of color. By and by Dick noticed a man in clean white duck on the opposite side of the street. He was a short distance in front, but his carriage and the fit of his clothes indicated that he was a white man and probably an American, and Dick slackened his pace. He imagined that the other would sooner not be found in that neighborhood if he happened to be an acquaintance. The fellow, however, presently crossed the street, and when he stopped and looked about, Dick, meeting him face to face, saw with some surprise that it was Kemp, the fireman, who had shown him an opportunity of escaping from the steamer that took them South. Kemp had turned out a steady, sober man, and Dick, who had got him promoted, wondered what he was doing there, though he reflected that his own presence in the disreputable locality was liable to be misunderstood. Kemp, however, looked at him with a twinkle. "I guess you're making for the harbor, Mr. Brandon?" Dick said he was, and Kemp studied the surrounding houses. "Well," he resumed, "I'm certainly up against it now. I don't know much Spanish, and these fool dagos can't talk American, while they're packed so tight in their blamed tenements that it's curious they don't fall out of the windows. It's a tough proposition to locate a man here." "Then you're looking for somebody?" "Yes. I've tracked Payne to this _calle_, but I guess there's some trailing down to be done yet." "Ah!" said Dick; for Payne was the dismissed storekeeper. "Why do you want him?" "I met him a while back and he'd struck bad luck, hurt his arm, for one thing. He'd been working among the breeds on the mole and living in their tenements, and couldn't strike another job. I reckoned he might want a few dollars, and I don't spend all my pay." Dick nodded, because he understood the unfortunate position of the white man who loses caste in a tropical country. An Englishman or American may engage in manual labor where skill is required and the pay is high, but he must live up to the standards of his countrymen. If forced to work with natives and adopt their mode of life, he risks being distrusted and avoided by men of his color. Remembering that Payne had interfered when he was stabbed, Dick had made some inquiries about him, but getting no information decided that he had left the town. "Then he's lodging in this street," he said. "That's what they told me at the wine-shop. He had to quit the last place because he couldn't pay." "Wasn't he with Oliva?" Dick inquired. "He was, but Oliva turned him down. I allow it was all right to fire him, but he's surely up against it now." Dick put his hand in his pocket. "If you find him, you might let me know. In the meantime, here's five dollars----" "Hold on!" said Kemp. "Don't take out your wallet here. I'll fix the thing, and ask for the money when I get back." Dick left him, and when he had transacted his business returned to the dam. An hour or two later Kemp arrived and stated that he had not succeeded in finding Payne. The man had left the squalid room he occupied and nobody knew where he had gone. During the next week Dick had again occasion to visit the harbor, and while he waited on the mole for a boat watched a gang of peons unloading some fertilizer from a barge. It was hard and unpleasant work, for the stuff, which had a rank smell, escaped from the bags and covered the perspiring men. The dust stuck to their hot faces, almost hiding their color; but one, though equally dirty, looked different from the rest, and Dick, noting that he only used his left arm, drew nearer. As he did so, the man walked up the steep plank from the lighter with a bag upon his back and staggering across the mole dropped it with a gasp. His heaving chest and set face showed what the effort had cost, and the smell of the fertilizer hung about his ragged clothes. Dick saw that it was Payne and that the fellow knew him. "You have got a rough job," he remarked. "Can't you find something better?" "Nope," said the man grimly. "Do you reckon I'd pack dirt with a crowd like this if I could help it?" Dick, who glanced at the lighter, where half-naked negroes and mulattos were at work amid a cloud of nauseating dust, understood the social degradation the other felt. "What's the matter with your arm?" he asked. Payne pulled up his torn sleeve and showed an inflamed and half-healed wound. "That! Got it nipped in a crane-wheel and it doesn't get much better. Guess this dirt is poisonous. Anyway, it keeps me here. I've been trying to make enough to buy a ticket to Jamaica, but can't work steady. As soon as I've put up two or three dollars, I have to quit." Dick could understand this. The man looked gaunt and ill and must have been heavily handicapped by his injured arm. He did not seem anxious to excite Dick's pity, though the latter did not think he cherished much resentment. "I tried to find you when I got better after being stabbed," he said. "I don't quite see why you came to my help." Payne grinned sourly. "You certainly hadn't much of a claim; but you were a white man and that dago meant to kill. Now if I'd held my job with Fuller and you hadn't dropped on to Oliva's game, I'd have made my little pile; but I allow you had to fire us when something put you wise." "I see," said Dick, with a smile at the fellow's candor. "Well, I couldn't trust you with the cement again, but we're short of a man to superintend a peon gang and I'll talk to Mr. Stuyvesant about it if you'll tell me your address." Payne gave him a fixed, eager look. "You get me the job and take me out of this and you won't be sorry. I'll make it good to you--and I reckon I can." Dick, who thought the other's anxiety to escape from his degrading occupation had prompted his last statement, turned away, saying he would see what could be done, and in the evening visited Stuyvesant. Bethune was already with him, and Dick told them how he had found Payne. "You felt you had to promise the fellow a job because he butted in when the dagos got after you?" Stuyvesant suggested. "No," said Dick with some embarrassment, "it wasn't altogether that. He certainly did help me, but I can't pass my obligations on to my employer. If you think he can't be trusted, I'll pay his passage to another port." "Well, I don't know that if I had the option I'd take the fellow out of jail, so long as he was shut up decently out of sight; but this is worse, in a way. What do you think, Bethune?" Bethune smiled. "You ought to know. I'm a bit of a philosopher, but when you stir my racial feelings I'm an American first. The mean white's a troublesome proposition at home, but we can't afford to exhibit him to the dagos here." He turned to Dick. "That's our attitude, Brandon, and though you were not long in our country, you seem to sympathize with it. I don't claim it's quite logical, but there it is! We're white and _different_." "Do you want me to hire the man?" Stuyvesant asked with an impatient gesture. "Yes," said Dick. "Then put him on. If he steals anything, I'll hold you responsible and ship him out on the next cement boat, whether he wants to go or not." Next morning Dick sent word to Payne, who arrived at the dam soon afterwards and did his work satisfactorily. On the evening of the first pay-day he went to Santa Brigida, but Dick, who watched him in the morning, noted somewhat to his surprise, that he showed no signs of dissipation. When work stopped at noon he heard a few pistol shots, but was told on inquiring that it was only one or two of the men shooting at a mark. A few days afterwards he found it necessary to visit Santa Brigida. Since Bethune confined his talents to constructional problems and languidly protested that he had no aptitude for commerce, much of the company's minor business gradually fell into Dick's hands. As a rule, he went to the town in the evening, after he had finished at the dam. While a hand-car was being got ready to take him down the line, Payne came up to the veranda, where Dick sat with Jake. "You're going down town, Mr. Brandon," he said. "Have you got a gun?" "I have not," said Dick. Payne pulled out an automatic pistol. "Then you'd better take mine. I bought her, second-hand, with my first pay, but she's pretty good. I reckon you can shoot?" "A little," said Dick, who had practised with the British army revolver. "Still I don't carry a pistol." "You ought," Payne answered meaningly, and walking to the other end of the veranda stuck a scrap of white paper on a post. "Say, suppose you try her? I want to see you put a pill through that." Dick was surprised by the fellow's persistence, but there is a fascination in shooting at a target, and when Jake urged him he took the pistol. Steadying it with stiffened wrist and forearm, he fired but hit the post a foot below the paper. "You haven't allowed for the pull-off, and you're slow," Payne remarked. "You want to sight high, with a squeeze on the trigger, and then catch her on the drop." He took the pistol and fixed his eyes on the paper before he moved. Then his arm went up suddenly and the glistening barrel pointed above the mark. There was a flash as his wrist dropped and a black spot appeared near the middle of the paper. "Use her like that! You'd want a mighty steady hand to hold her dead on the mark while you pull off." "Sit down and tell us why you think Mr. Brandon ought to have the pistol," Jake remarked. "I go to Santa Brigida now and then, but you haven't offered to lend it me." Payne sat down on the steps and looked at him with a smile. "You're all right, Mr. Fuller. They're not after you." "Then you reckon it wasn't me they wanted the night my partner was stabbed? I had the money." "Nope," said Payne firmly. "I allow they'd have corralled the dollars if they could, but it was Mr. Brandon they meant to knock out." He paused and added in a significant tone: "They're after him yet." "Hadn't you better tell us whom you mean by 'they'?" Dick asked. "Oliva's gang. There are toughs in the city who'd kill you for fifty cents." "Does that account for your buying the pistol when you came here?" "It does," Payne admitted dryly. "I didn't mean to take any chances when it looked as if I was going back on my dago partner." "He turned you down first, and I don't see how you could harm him by working for us." Payne did not answer, and Dick, who thought he was pondering something, resumed: "These half-breeds are a revengeful lot, but after all, Oliva wouldn't run a serious risk without a stronger motive than he seems to have." "Well," said Payne, "if I talked Spanish, I could tell you more; but I was taking my siesta one day in a dark wine-shop when two or three hard-looking peons came in. They mayn't have seen me, because there were some casks in the way, and anyhow, they'd reckon I couldn't understand them. I didn't very well, but I heard your name and caught a word or two. Their _patron_ had given them some orders and one called him Don Ramon. You were to be watched, because _mirar_ came in; but I didn't get the rest and they went out soon. I lay as if I was asleep, but I'd know the crowd again." Payne got up as he concluded: "Anyway, you take my gun, and keep in the main _calles_, where the lights are." When he had gone Jake remarked: "I guess his advice is good and I'm coming along." "No," said Dick, smiling as he put the pistol in his pocket. "The trouble is that if I took you down there I mightn't get you back. Besides, there are some calculations I want you to make." Lighting his pipe, he took his seat on the hand-car and knitted his brows as two colored laborers drove him down the hill. Below, the lights of Santa Brigida gleamed in a cluster against the dusky sea, and he knew something of the intrigues that went on in the town. Commercial and political jealousies were very keen, and citizens of all ranks fought and schemed against their neighbors. The place was rank with plots, but it was hard to see how he could be involved. Yet it certainly began to look as if he had been stabbed by Oliva's order, and Oliva was now employed at the Adexe coaling wharf. This seemed to throw a light upon the matter. Something mysterious was going on at Adexe, and perhaps he had been incautious and had shown his suspicions; the Spaniards were subtle. The manager might have imagined he knew more than he did; but if it was worth defending by the means Payne had hinted at, the secret must be very important, and the plotters would hesitate about betraying themselves by another attempt upon his life so long as there was any possibility of failure. Besides, it was dangerous to attack a foreigner, since if he were killed, the representative of his country would demand an exhaustive inquiry. While Dick pondered the matter the hand-car stopped and he alighted and walked briskly to Santa Brigida, keeping in the middle of the road. When he reached the town, he chose the wide, well-lighted streets but saw nothing suspicious. After transacting his business he ventured, by way of experiment, across a small dark square and returned to the main street by a narrow lane, but although he kept a keen watch nothing indicated that he was followed. Reaching the hand-car without being molested, he determined to be cautious in future, though it was possible that Payne had been deceived. CHAPTER XIX JAKE EXPLAINS MATTERS The sun had sunk behind the range when Clare Kenwardine stood, musing, on a balcony of the house. Voices and footsteps reached her across the roofs, for Santa Brigida was wakening from its afternoon sleep and the traffic had begun again in the cooling streets. The girl listened vacantly, as she grappled with questions that had grown more troublesome of late. The life she led often jarred, and yet she could find no escape. She hoped she was not unnecessarily censorious and tried to argue that after all there was no great harm in gambling, but rarely succeeded in convincing herself. Then she had deliberately thrown in her lot with her father's. When she first insisted on joining him in England, he had, for her sake, as she now realized, discouraged the plan, but had since come to depend upon her in many ways, and she could not leave him. Besides, it was too late. She had made her choice and must stick to it. Yet she rebelled against the feeling that she had brought a taint or stigma upon herself. She had no women friends except the wives of one or two Spanish officials whose reputation for honesty was not of the best; the English and American women left her alone. Most of the men she met she frankly disliked, and imagined that the formal respect they showed her was due to her father's hints. Kenwardine's moral code was not severe, but he saw that his guests preserved their manners. Clare had heard the Spaniards call him _muy caballero_, and they knew the outward points of a gentleman. While she pondered, he came out on the balcony. "Brooding?" he said with a smile. "Well, it has been very dull lately and we need cheering up. Suppose you send Mr. Fuller a note and ask him to dinner to-morrow? He's sometimes amusing and I think you like him." Clare braced herself for a struggle, for it was seldom she refused her father's request. "Yes," she said, "I like him, but it would be better if he didn't come." Kenwardine gave her a keen glance, but although he felt some surprise did not try to hide his understanding of what she meant. "It looks as if you knew something about what happened on his last visit." "I do," Clare answered. "It was rather a shock." "One mustn't exaggerate the importance of these things," Kenwardine remarked in an indulgent tone. "It's difficult to avoid getting a jar now and then, though I've tried to shield you as much as possible. Fuller's young and high-spirited, and you really mustn't judge his youthful extravagance too severely." "But don't you see you are admitting that he shouldn't come?" Clare asked, with some color in her face. "He _is_ young and inexperienced, and your friends are men of the world. What is safe for them may be dangerous for him." Kenwardine pondered. Fuller was an attractive lad, and he would not have been displeased to think that Clare's wish to protect him might spring from sentimental tenderness. But if this were so, she would hardly have been so frank and have admitted that he was weak. Moreover, if she found his society congenial, she would not insist on keeping him away. "You are afraid some of the others might take advantage of his rashness?" he suggested. "Can't you trust me to see this doesn't happen?" "It did happen, not long ago. And you can't go very far; one can't be rude to one's guests." "Well," said Kenwardine, smiling, "it's kind of you to make an excuse for me. On the whole, of course, I like you to be fastidious in your choice of friends, but one should temper severity with sense. I don't want you to get as exacting as Brandon, for example." "I'm afraid he was right when he tried to keep Fuller away." "Right in thinking my house was unsafe for the lad, and in warning him that you and I were unfit for him to associate with?" Kenwardine studied the girl. She looked distressed, and he thought this significant, but after a moment or two she answered steadily: "After all, Brandon had some grounds for thinking so. I would much sooner you didn't urge me to ask Jake Fuller." "Very well," said Kenwardine. "I don't want you to do anything that's repugnant; but, of course, if he comes to see me, I can't send him off. It isn't a matter of much importance, anyhow." He left her, but she was not deceived by his careless tone. She thought he meant to bring Fuller back and did not see how she could prevent this, although she had refused to help. Then she thought about the plans that Brandon had lost at their house in England. They had certainly been stolen, for she could not doubt what he had told her, but it was painful to admit that her father had taken them. She felt dejected and lonely, and while she struggled against the depression Lucille came to say that Jake was waiting below. "Tell him I am not at home," Clare replied. Lucille went away and Clare left the balcony, but a few minutes later, when she thought Jake had gone, she went down the stairs and met him coming up. He stopped with a twinkle of amusement. "I sent word that I was not at home," she said haughtily. "You did," Jake agreed in an apologetic tone. "It's your privilege, but although I felt rather hurt, I don't see why that should prevent my asking if your father was in." Clare's indignation vanished. She liked Jake and was moved by his reproachful look. She determined to try an appeal. "Mr. Fuller," she said, "I would sooner you didn't come to see us. It would be better, in several ways." He gave her a curious, intent look, in which she read sympathy. "I can't pretend I don't understand, and you're very brave. Still, I'm not sure you're quite just, to me among others. I'm a bit of a fool, but I'm not so rash as some people think. Anyhow, if I were, I'd still be safe enough in your house. Sorry, but I can't promise to stop away." "It would really be much better," Clare insisted. "Would it make things any easier for you?" "No," said Clare. "In a sense, it could make no difference to me." "Very well. I intend to call on your father now and then. Of course, you needn't see me unless you like, though since I am coming, your keeping out of the way wouldn't do much good." Clare made a gesture of helpless protest. "Why won't you be warned? Can't you understand? Do you think it is easy for me to try----" "I don't," said Jake. "I know it's very hard. I think you're mistaken about the necessity for interfering; that's all." Then he paused and resumed in a different tone: "You see, I imagine that you must feel lonely at times, and that you might need a friend. I dare say you'd find me better than none, and I'd like to know that I'll have an opportunity of being around if I'm wanted." He gave her a quiet, respectful glance, and Clare knew she had never liked him so much. He looked trustworthy, and it was a relief to note that there was no hint of anything but sympathy in his eyes and voice. He asked nothing but permission to protect her if there was need. Moreover, since they had been forced to tread on dangerous ground, he had handled the situation with courage. She might require a friend, and his honest sympathy was refreshing by contrast with the attitude of her father's companions. Some were hard and cynical and some were dissipated, but all were stamped by a repugnant greediness. They sought something: money, the gratification of base desires, success in dark intrigue. Jake with his chivalrous generosity stood far apart from them; but he must be saved from becoming like them. "If I knew how I could keep you away, I would do so, but I can, at least, see you as seldom as possible," she said and left him. Jake knitted his brows as he went on to Kenwardine's room. He understood Clare's motive, and admitted that she meant well, but he was not going to stop away because she thought this better for him. There was, however, another matter that demanded his attention and he felt awkward when Kenwardine opened the door. "It's some time since you have been to see us," the latter remarked. "It is," said Jake. "Perhaps you can understand that I felt rather shy about coming after the way my partner arranged the matter of the check." "He arranged it to your advantage, and you ought to be satisfied. Mr. Brandon is obviously a business man." Jack resented the polished sneer. "He's a very good sort and I'm grateful to him; but it doesn't follow that I adopt his point of view." "You mean his views about the payment of one's debts?" "Yes," said Jake. "I don't consider the debt wiped out; in fact, that's why I came. I want to make good, but it will take time. If you will ask your friends to wait----" Kenwardine looked at him with an ironical smile. "Isn't this a change of attitude? I understood you claimed that you were under a disadvantage through being drunk and suspected that the game was not quite straight." "I was drunk and still suspect Black of crooked play." "It's rather a grave statement." "I quite see that," said Jake. "However, I deserved to lose for being drunk when I was betting high, and don't hold you accountable for Black. You'd take steep chances if you guaranteed all guests." Kenwardine laughed. "You're remarkably frank; but there's some truth in what you say, although the convention is that I do guarantee them and their honor's mine." "We'll keep to business," Jake replied. "Will you tell your friends I'll pay them out in full as soon as I can?" "Certainly. Since they thought the matter closed, it will be a pleasant surprise, but we'll let that go. Mr. Brandon obviously didn't consult your wishes, but have you any idea what his object was in taking his very unusual line?" "Yes," said Jake; "if you press me, I have." "He thought he would make it awkward for you to come here, in fact?" "Something like that." "Then you mean to run the risk?" "I'm coming, if you'll allow it," Jake answered with a twinkle. "The risk isn't very great, because if I lose any more money in the next few months, the winners will not get paid. The old man certainly won't stand for it if I get into debt." Kenwardine pushed a box of cigarettes across. "I congratulate you on your way of making things clear, and now we understand each other you can come when you like. Have a smoke." Jake took a cigarette, but left soon afterwards to do an errand of Bethune's that had given him an excuse for visiting the town. Then he went back to the dam, and after dinner sat outside Dick's shack, pondering what Clare had said. She had, of course, had some ground for warning him, but he did not believe yet that Kenwardine meant to exploit his recklessness. It would not be worth while, for one thing, since he had never had much money to lose and now had none. Besides, Kenwardine was not the man to take a mean advantage of his guest, though Jake could not say as much for some of his friends. Anyhow, he meant to go to the house because he felt that Clare might need his help. He did not see how that might be, but he had a half-formed suspicion that she might have to suffer on her father's account, and if anything of the kind happened, he meant to be about. Yet he was not in love with her. She attracted him strongly, and he admitted that it would be remarkably easy to become infatuated, but did not mean to let this happen. Though often rash, he had more sense and self-control than his friends believed, and realized that Clare was not for him. He could not tell how he had arrived at this conclusion, but there it was, and he knew he was not mistaken. Sometimes he wondered with a twinge of jealousy what she thought of Brandon. By and by he roused himself from his reflections and looked about. There was no moon and a thin mist that had stolen out of the jungle drifted past the shack. A coffee-pot and two cups stood upon a table near his chair, and one cup was half empty, as Dick had left it when he was unexpectedly summoned to the dam, where work was going on. The veranda lamp had been put out, because Jake did not want to read and a bright light would have attracted moths and beetles, but Dick had left a lamp burning in his room, and a faint illumination came through the curtain on the open window. Everything was very quiet except when the ringing of hammers and the rattle of a crane rose from the dam. Looking farther round, Jake thought he distinguished the blurred outline of a human figure in the mist, but was not surprised. Some ironwork that made a comfortable seat lay near the shack and the figure had been there before. For all that, he imagined the man was wasting his time and keeping an unnecessary watch. Then his thoughts again centered on Clare and Kenwardine and some time had passed when he looked up. Something had disturbed him, but he could not tell what it was, and on glancing at the spot where he had seen the figure he found it had gone. Next moment a board in the house creaked softly, as if it had been trodden on; but the boards often did so after a change of temperature, and Jake sat still. Their colored servant had asked leave to go down to the camp and was perhaps now coming back. One had to be careful not to give one's imagination too much rein in these hot countries. Payne seemed to have done so and had got an attack of nerves, which was curious, because indulgence in native caña generally led to that kind of thing, and Payne was sober. Moreover, he was of the type that is commonly called hard. Jake took out a cigarette and was lighting it when he heard a swift, stealthy step close behind him. He dropped the match as he swung round, pushing back his canvas chair, and found his eyes dazzled by the sudden darkness. Still he thought he saw a shadow flit across the veranda and vanish into the mist. Next moment there were heavier footsteps, and a crash as a man fell over the projecting legs of the chair. The fellow rolled down the shallow stairs, dropping a pistol and then hurriedly got up. "Stop right there, Pepe!" he shouted. "What were you doing in that room?" Nobody answered and Jake turned to the man, who was rubbing his leg. "What's the trouble, Payne?" he asked. "He's lit out, but I reckon I'd have got him if you'd been more careful how you pushed your chair around." "Whom did you expect to get?" "Well," said Payne, "it wasn't Pepe." "Then why did you call him?" "I wanted the fellow I was after to think I'd made a mistake." Jake could understand this, though the rest was dark. Pepe was an Indian boy who brought water and domestic stores to the shack, but would have no excuse for entering it at night. "I allow he meant to dope the coffee," Payne resumed. This was alarming, and Jake abruptly glanced at the table. The intruder must have been close to it and behind him when he heard the step, and might have accomplished his purpose and stolen away had he not struck the match. "He hadn't time," he answered. "We had better see what he was doing in the house." Payne put away his pistol and they entered Dick's room. Nothing seemed to have been touched, until Jake placed the lamp on a writing-table where Dick sometimes worked at night. The drawers beneath it were locked, but Payne indicated a greasy finger-print on the writing-pad. "I guess that's a dago's mark. Mr. Brandon would wash his hands before he began to write." Jake agreed, and picking up the pad thought the top sheet had been hurriedly removed, because a torn fragment projected from the leather clip. The sheet left was covered with faint impressions, but it rather looked as if these had been made by the ink running through than by direct contact. Jake wrote a few words on a scrap of paper and pressing it on the pad noted the difference. "This is strange," he said. "I don't get the drift of it." Payne looked at him with a dry smile. "If you'll come out and let me talk, I'll try to put you wise." Jake nodded and they went back to the veranda. CHAPTER XX DON SEBASTIAN When they returned to the veranda Payne sat down on the steps. Jake picked up his chair and looked at him thoughtfully. "Now," he said, "I want to know why you have been prowling about the shack at night. You had better begin at the beginning." "Very well. I guess you know I was put off this camp soon before you came?" "I heard something about it," Jake admitted. Payne grinned as if he appreciated his tact, and then resumed: "In the settlement where I was raised, the old fellow who kept the store had a cheat-ledger. When somebody traded stale eggs and garden-truck for good groceries, and the storekeeper saw he couldn't make trouble about it without losing a customer, he said nothing but scored it down against the man. Sometimes he had to wait a long while, but sooner or later he squared the account. Now that's my plan with Don Ramon Oliva." "I see," said Jake. "What have you against him?" "To begin with, he got me fired. It was a thing I took my chances of and wouldn't have blamed him for; but I reckon now your father's cement wasn't all he was after. He wanted a pull on me." "Why?" "I haven't got that quite clear, but I'm an American and could do things he couldn't, without being suspected." "Go on," said Jake, in a thoughtful tone. "Well, for a clever man, he made a very poor defense when your partner spotted his game; seemed to say if they reckoned he'd been stealing, he'd let it go at that. Then, when he'd got me and found I wasn't the man he wanted, he turned me down. Left me to live with breeds and niggers!" "What do you mean by your not being the man he wanted?" Payne smiled in a deprecatory way. "I allow that I was willing to make a few dollars on the cement, but working against white men in a dago plot is a different thing." "Then there is a plot?" "Well," said Payne quietly, "I don't know much about it, but something's going on." Jake lighted a cigarette while he pondered. He was not surprised that Payne should talk to him with confidential familiarity, because the situation warranted it, and the American workman is not, as a rule, deferential to his employer. The fellow might be mistaken, but he believed that Oliva had schemed to get him into his power and work upon his wish for revenge. Jake could understand Oliva's error. Payne's moral code was rudimentary, but he had some racial pride and would not act like a treacherous renegade. "I begin to see how your account against Oliva stands," he remarked. "But is that the only entry in your book?" "I guess not," Payne replied. "Mr. Brandon's name is there, but the entry is against myself. It was a straight fight when he had me fired, and he took me back when he found I was down and out." Jake nodded. "You have already warned Brandon that he might be in some danger in the town." "That's so. Since then, I reckoned that they were getting after him _here_, but we were more likely to hold them up if they didn't know we knew. That's why I called out to show I thought it was Pepe who was in the shack." "Very well," said Jake. "There's nothing more to be done in the meantime, but you'd better tell me if you find out anything else." Payne went away and when Dick came in Jake took him into his room and indicated the blotter. "Have you torn off the top sheet in the last few days?" "I don't remember doing so, but now I come to look, it has been torn off." "What have you been writing lately?" "Orders for small supplies, specifications of material, and such things." "Concrete, in short?" Jake remarked. "Well, it's not an interesting subject to outsiders and sometimes gets very stale to those who have to handle it. Are you quite sure you haven't been writing about anything else?" "I am sure. Why do you ask?" "Because, as you see, somebody thought it worth while to steal the top sheet of your blotter," Jake replied. "Now perhaps I'd better tell you something I've just learned." He related what Payne had told him and concluded: "I'm puzzled about Oliva's motive. After all, it could hardly be revenge." "No," said Dick, with a thoughtful frown, "I don't imagine it is." "Then what does he expect to gain?" Dick was silent for a few moments with knitted brows, and then asked: "You have a Monroe Doctrine, haven't you?" "We certainly have," Jake agreed, smiling. "We reaffirmed it not long ago." "Roughly speaking, the Doctrine states that no European power can be allowed to set up a naval base or make warlike preparations in any part of America. In fact, you warn all foreigners to keep their hands off?" "That's its general purport; but while I support it patriotically, I can't tell you exactly what it says. Anyhow, I don't see what this has to do with the matter." "Nor do I, but it seems to promise a clue," Dick answered dryly. He frowned at the blotter and then added: "We'll leave it at that. I've some vague suspicions, but nothing to act upon. If the thing gets any plainer, I'll let you know." "But what about Payne? Is he to hang around here nights with his gun?" "No," said Dick, "it isn't necessary. But there'd be no harm in our taking a few precautions." He stretched his arms wearily when Jake left him, for he had had a tiring day and had now been given ground for anxious thought. He had not troubled much about Oliva while he imagined that the fellow was actuated by a personal grudge, but his antagonism began to look more dangerous. Suppose the Adexe coaling station was intended to be something of the nature of a naval base? Munitions and other contraband of war might be quietly sent off with fuel to fighting ships. Richter, the German, had certainly been associated with Kenwardine, who had made an opportunity for telling Jake that they had disagreed. Then suppose the owners of the station had learned that they were being spied upon? Dick admitted that he might not have been as tactful as he thought; and he was employed by an influential American. The Americans might be disposed to insist upon a strict observance of the Monroe Doctrine. Granting all this, if he was to be dealt with, it would be safer to make use of a half-breed who was known to have some ground for hating him. Dick, however, reflected that he was taking much for granted and his suppositions might well be wrong. It was unwise to attach too much importance to a plausible theory. Then he could not expose Kenwardine without involving Clare, and saw no means of separating them. Besides, Kenwardine's position was strong. The officials were given to graft, and he had, no doubt, made a skilful use of bribes. Warnings about him would not be listened to, particularly as he was carrying on a thriving business and paying large sums in wages in a country that depended on foreign capital. Then Dick got up with a frown. His head ached and he was tired after working since sunrise in enervating heat. The puzzle could not be solved now, and he must wait until he found out something more. For the next two or three evenings he was kept busy at the dam, where work was carried on after dark, and Jake, taking advantage of this, went to Santa Brigida one night when he knew the locomotive would be coming back up the line. Nothing of importance happened at Kenwardine's, where he did not see Clare, and on his return he took a short cut through a badly-lighted part of the town. There was perhaps some risk in this, but Jake seldom avoided an adventure. Nothing unusual happened as he made his way through the narrow streets, until he reached a corner where a noisy group hung about the end house. As the men did not look sober, he took the other side of the street, where the light of a lamp fell upon him. His close-fitting white clothes distinguished him from the picturesque untidiness of the rest, and when somebody shouted, "_Un Gringo!_" one or two moved across as if to stop him. Jake walked on quickly, looking straight in front without seeming to notice the others, in the hope of getting past before they got in his way, but a man dressed like a respectable citizen came round the corner and the peons ran off. Since the appearance of a single stranger did not seem to account for this, Jake wondered what had alarmed them, until he saw a rural guard in white uniform behind the other. When the man came up the _rurale_ stopped and raised his hand as if he meant to salute, but let it fall again, and Jake imagined that the first had given him a warning glance. He knew the thin, dark-faced Spaniard, whom he had met at Kenwardine's. The man touched Jake's shoulder and drew him away, and the lad thought it strange that the _rurale_ went on without asking a question. "I don't know that the peons meant to make trouble, but I'm glad you came along, Don Sebastian," he said. "It is an honor to have been of some service, but it looks as if you were as rash in other matters as you are at cards," the Spaniard answered. "These dark _calles_ are unsafe for foreigners." "So it seems, but I'm afraid it will be a long time before I'm worth robbing," Jake replied, and then remembered with embarrassment that the other was one of the party whose winnings he had not yet paid. Don Sebastian smiled, but said suavely: "For all that, you should not take an unnecessary risk. You have been attacked once already, I think?" "Yes, but it was my partner who got hurt." "That is one of the ironies of luck. Señor Brandon is sober and cautious, but he gets injured when he comes to protect you, who are rash." "He's what you say, but I didn't know you had met him," Jake replied. "I have heard of him; you foreigners are talked about in the cafés. They talk much in Santa Brigida; many have nothing else to do. But have you and Señor Brandon only been molested once?" Jake hesitated for a moment. He liked the man and on the whole thought he could be trusted, while he imagined that he was not prompted by idle curiosity but knew something. Besides, Jake was often impulsive and ready, as he said, to back his judgment. "We were only once actually attacked, but something rather curious happened not long ago." "Ah!" said Don Sebastian, "this is interesting, and as I know something of the intrigues that go on in the city it might be to your advantage to tell me about it. There is a quiet wine-shop not far off." "Would it be safe to go in?" Jake asked. "I think so," his companion answered, smiling. Jake presently followed him into a small, dimly lighted room, and noted that the landlord came to wait on them with obsequious attention. Two peons were drinking in a corner, but they went out when the landlord made a sign. Jake thought this curious, but Don Sebastian filled his glass and gave him a cigarette. "Now," he said, "we have the place to ourselves and you can tell your story." Jake related how a stranger had stolen into their shack a few days ago, and Don Sebastian listened attentively. "You do not think it was one of the peons employed at the dam?" he suggested. "No," said Jake. "Anyhow, Payne seemed satisfied it wasn't." "He would probably know them better than you. Do you keep money in the house?" "Very little. We lock up the money for wages in the pay-office safe. Anyhow, I'm not sure the fellow came to steal." "If he did so, one would not imagine that he would be satisfied with blotting-paper," Don Sebastian agreed. "You said there was some coffee on the table." "There was. Payne reckoned the fellow meant to dope it. What do you think?" "It is possible, if he had ground for being revengeful. Some of the Indians from the mountains are expert poisoners. But why should anybody wish to injure your comrade?" "I didn't suggest that he wished to injure Brandon. He might have meant to dope me." Don Sebastian smiled. "That is so, but on the whole I do not think it probable. Do you know of anybody whom your friend has harmed?" Jake decided to tell him about Oliva. He was now convinced that Don Sebastian knew more than he admitted and that his interest was not unfriendly. Besides, there was somehow a hint of authority in the fellow's thin, dark face. He showed polite attention as Jake narrated the events that had led to Oliva's dismissal, but the lad imagined that he was telling him nothing he had not already heard. "The motive may have been revenge, but as Señor Brandon was stabbed that ought to satisfy his enemy. Besides, these people are unstable; they do not even indulge in hatred long. Do you know if your comrade has taken any part in political intrigue?" "It's most unlikely; he would make a very poor conspirator," Jake replied. "Then have you heard of any señorita, or perhaps a half-breed girl who has taken his fancy?" "No," said Jake. "Dick is not that kind." He thought Don Sebastian had been clearing the ground, eliminating possibilities to which he did not attach much weight, and waited with interest for his remarks. "Well," said the Spaniard, "I think you and the man, Payne, should watch over your friend, but it might be better if you did not tell him you are doing so or ask him any questions, and I would sooner you did not mention this interview. If, however, anything suspicious happens again, it might be an advantage if you let me know. You can send word to me at the hotel." "Not at Kenwardine's?" Don Sebastian gave him a quiet glance, but Jake thought it was keenly observant and remembered how, one night when a messenger entered Kenwardine's patio, Richter, the German, had stood where he obstructed the Spaniard's view. "No," he said, "I should prefer the hotel. Will you promise?" "I will," Jake answered impulsively. "However, you seem to suggest that I should leave my partner to grapple with this thing himself and I don't like that. If he's up against any danger, I want to butt in. Dick's no fool, but there are respects in which he's not very keen. His mind's fixed on concrete, and when he gets off it his imagination's sometimes rather weak----" He stopped, feeling that he must not seem to censure his friend, and Don Sebastian nodded with a twinkle of amusement. "I think I understand. There are, however, men of simple character and no cunning who are capable of going far and sometimes surprise the friends who do not know them very well. I cannot tell if Señor Brandon is one of these, but it is not impossible. After all, it is often the clever man who makes the worst mistakes; and on the whole I imagine it would be wiser to leave your comrade alone." He got up and laid his hand on Jake's arm with a friendly gesture. "Now I will put you on your way, and if you feel puzzled or alarmed in future, you can come to me." CHAPTER XXI DICK MAKES A BOLD VENTURE Some delicate and important work was being done, and Stuyvesant had had his lunch sent up to the dam. Bethune and Dick joined him afterwards, and sat in the shade of a big traveling crane. Stuyvesant and Dick were hot and dirty, for it was not their custom to be content with giving orders when urgent work was going on. Bethune looked languid and immaculately neat. His speciality was mathematics, and he said he did not see why the man with mental talents should dissipate his energy by using his hands. "It's curious about that French liner," Stuyvesant presently remarked. "I understand her passengers have been waiting since yesterday and she hasn't arrived." "The last boat cut out Santa Brigida without notice," Bethune replied. "My opinion of the French is that they're a pretty casual lot." "On the surface. They smile and shrug where we set our teeth, but when you get down to bed-rock you don't find much difference. I thought as you do, until I went over there and saw a people that run us close for steady, intensive industry. Their small cultivators are simply great. I'd like to put them on our poorer land in the Middle West, where we're content with sixteen bushels of wheat that's most fit for chicken feed to the acre. Then what they don't know about civil engineering isn't worth learning." Bethune made a gesture of agreement. "They're certainly fine engineers and they're putting up a pretty good fight just now, but these Latins puzzle me. Take the Iberian branch of the race, for example. We have Spanish peons here who'll stand for as much work and hardship as any Anglo-Saxon I've met. Then an educated Spaniard's hard to beat for intellectual subtlety. Chess is a game that's suited to my turn of mind, but I've been badly whipped in Santa Brigida. They've brains and application, and yet they don't progress. What's the matter with them, anyway?" "I expect they can't formulate a continuous policy and stick to it, and they keep brains and labor too far apart; the two should coordinate. But I wonder what's holding up the mail boat." "Do they know when she left the last port?" Dick, who had listened impatiently, asked with concealed interest. "They do. It's a short run and she ought to have arrived yesterday morning." "The Germans can't have got her. They have no commerce-destroyers in these waters," Bethune remarked, with a glance at Dick. "Your navy corralled the lot, I think." Dick wondered why Bethune looked at him, but he answered carelessly: "So one understands. But it's strange the French company cut out the last call. There was a big quantity of freight on the mole." "It looks as if the agent had suspected something," Stuyvesant replied. "However, that's not our affair, and you want to get busy and have your specifications and cost-sheets straight when Fuller comes." "Then Fuller is coming back!" Dick exclaimed. "He'll be here to-morrow night. I imagined Bethune had told you about the cablegram he sent." "He didn't; I expect he thought his getting a scratch lunch more important," Dick replied, looking at his watch. "Well, I must see everything's ready before the boys make a start." He went away with swift, decided steps through the scorching heat, and Stuyvesant smiled. "There you have a specimen of the useful Anglo-Saxon type. I don't claim that he's a smart man all round, but he can concentrate on his work and put over what he takes in hand. You wouldn't go to him for a brilliant plan, but give him an awkward job and he'll make good. I expect he'll get a lift up when Fuller has taken a look round." "He deserves it," Bethune agreed. Though the heat was intense and the glare from the white dam dazzling, Dick found work something of a relief. It was his habit to fix his mind upon the task in which he was engaged; but of late his thoughts had been occupied by Clare and conjectures about the Adexe coaling station and the strange black-funnel boat. The delay in the French liner's arrival had made the matter look more urgent, but he had now an excuse for putting off its consideration. His duty to his employer came first. There were detailed plans that must be worked out before Fuller came and things he would want to know, and Dick sat up late at night in order to have the answers ready. Fuller arrived, and after spending a few days at the works came to Dick's shack one evening. For an hour he examined drawings and calculations, asking Jake a sharp question now and then, and afterwards sent him away. "You can put up the papers now," he said. "We'll go out on the veranda. It's cooler there." He dropped into a canvas chair, for the air was stagnant and enervating, and looked down at the clustering lights beside the sea for a time. Then he said abruptly: "Jake seems to know his business. You have taught him well." "He learned most himself," Dick answered modestly. "Well," said Fuller with some dryness, "that's the best plan, but you put him on the right track and kept him there; I guess I know my son. Has he made trouble for you in other ways?" "None worth mentioning." Fuller gave him a keen glance and then indicated the lights of the town. "That's the danger-spot. Does he go down there often?" "No. I make it as difficult as possible, but can't stop him altogether." Fuller nodded. "I guess you used some tact, because he likes you and you'd certainly have had trouble if you'd snubbed him up too hard. Anyway, I'm glad to acknowledge that you have put me in your debt. You can see how I was fixed. Bethune's not the man to guide a headstrong lad, and Stuyvesant's his boss. If he'd used any official pressure, Jake would have kicked. That's why I wanted a steady partner for him who had no actual authority." "In a sense, you ran some risk in choosing me." "I don't know that I chose you, to begin with," Fuller answered with a twinkle. "I imagine my daughter made me think as I did, but I'm willing to state that her judgment was good. We'll let that go. You have seen Jake at his work; do you think he'll make an engineer?" "Yes," said Dick, and then recognizing friendship's claim, added bluntly: "But he'll make a better artist. He has the gift." "Well," said Fuller, in a thoughtful tone, "we'll talk of it again. In the meantime, he's learning how big jobs are done and dollars are earned, and that's a liberal education. However, I've a proposition here I'd like your opinion of." Dick's heart beat as he read the document his employer handed him. It was a formal agreement by which he engaged his services to Fuller until the irrigation work was completed, in return for a salary that he thought remarkably good. "It's much more than I had any reason to expect," he said with some awkwardness. "In fact, although I don't know that I have been of much help to Jake, I'd sooner you didn't take this way of repaying me. One would prefer not to mix friendship with business." "Yours is not a very common view," Fuller replied, smiling. "However, I'm merely offering to buy your professional skill, and want to know if you're satisfied with my terms." "They're generous," said Dick with emotion, for he saw what the change in his position might enable him to do. "There's only one thing: the agreement is to stand until the completion of the dam. What will happen afterwards?" "Then if I have no more use for you here, I think I can promise to find you as good or better job. Is that enough?" Dick gave him a grateful look. "It's difficult to tell you how I feel about it, but I'll do my best to make good and show that you have not been mistaken." "That's all right," said Fuller, getting up. "Sign the document when you can get a witness and let me have it." He went away and Dick sat down and studied the agreement with a beating heart. He found his work engrossing, he liked the men he was associated with, and saw his way to making his mark in his profession, but there was another cause for the triumphant thrill he felt. Clare must be separated from Kenwardine before she was entangled in his dangerous plots, and he had brooded over his inability to come to her rescue. Now, however, one obstacle was removed. He could offer her some degree of comfort if she could be persuaded to marry him. It was obvious that she must be taken out of her father's hands as soon as possible, and he determined to try to gain her consent next morning, though he was very doubtful of his success. When he reached the house, Clare was sitting at a table in the patio with some work in her hand. Close by, the purple creeper spread across the wall, and the girl's blue eyes and thin lilac dress harmonized with its deeper color. Her face and half-covered arms showed pure white against the background, but the delicate pink that had once relieved the former was now less distinct. The hot, humid climate had begun to set its mark on her, and Dick thought she looked anxious and perplexed. She glanced up when she heard his step, and moving quietly forward he stopped on the opposite side of the table with his hand on a chair. He knew there was much against him and feared a rebuff, but delay might be dangerous and he could not wait. Standing quietly resolute, he fixed his eyes on the girl's face. "Is your father at home, Miss Kenwardine?" he asked. "No," said Clare. "He went out some time ago, and I cannot tell when he will come back. Do you want to see him?" "I don't know yet. It depends." He thought she was surprised and curious, but she said nothing, and nerving himself for the plunge, he resumed: "I came to see you in the first place. I'm afraid you'll be astonished, Clare, but I want to know if you will marry me." She moved abruptly, turned her head for a moment, and then looked up at him while the color gathered in her face. Her expression puzzled Dick, but he imagined that she was angry. "I am astonished. Isn't it a rather extraordinary request, after what you said on board the launch?" "No," said Dick, "it's very natural from my point of view. You see, I fell in love with you the first time we met; but I got into disgrace soon afterwards and have had a bad time since. This made it impossible for me to tell you what I felt; but things are beginning to improve----" He stopped, seeing no encouragement in her expression, for Clare was fighting a hard battle. His blunt simplicity made a strong appeal. She had liked and trusted him when he had with callow but honest chivalry offered her his protection one night in England and he had developed fast since then. Hardship had strengthened and in a sense refined him. He looked resolute and soldierlike as he waited. Still, for his sake as well as hers, she must refuse. "Then you must be easily moved," she said. "You knew nothing about me." "I'd seen you; that was quite enough," Dick declared and stopped. Her look was gentler and he might do better if he could lessen the distance between them and take her hand; he feared he had been painfully matter-of-fact. Perhaps he was right, but the table stood in the way, and if he moved round it, she would take alarm. It was exasperating to be baulked by a piece of furniture. "Besides," he resumed, "when everybody doubted me, you showed your confidence. You wrote and said----" "But you told me you tore up the letter," Clare interrupted. Dick got confused. "I did; I was a fool, but the way things had been going was too much for me. You ought to understand and try to make allowances." "I cannot understand why you want to marry a girl you think a thief." Pulling himself together, Dick gave her a steady look. "I can't let that pass, though if I begin to argue I'm lost. In a way, I'm at your mercy, because my defense can only make matters worse. But I tried to explain on board the launch." "The explanation wasn't very convincing," Clare remarked, turning her head. "Do you still believe I took your papers?" "The plans were in my pocket when I reached your house," said Dick, who saw he must be frank. "I don't know that you took them, and if you did, I wouldn't hold you responsible; but they were taken." "You mean that you blame my father for their loss?" Dick hesitated. He felt that she was giving him a last opportunity, but he could not seize it. "If I pretended I didn't blame him, you would find me out and it would stand between us. I wish I could say I'd dropped the papers somewhere or find some other way; but the truth is best." Clare turned to him with a hot flush and an angry sparkle in her eyes. "Then it's unthinkable that you should marry the daughter of the man whom you believe ruined you. Don't you see that you can't separate me from my father? We must stand together." "No," said Dick doggedly, knowing that he was beaten, "I don't see that. I want you; I want to take you away from surroundings and associations that must jar. Perhaps it was foolish to think you would come, but you helped to save my life when I was ill, and I believe I was then something more to you than a patient. Why have you changed?" She looked at him with a forced and rather bitter smile. "Need you ask? Can't you, or won't you, understand? Could I marry my victim, which is what you are if your suspicions are justified? If they are not, you have offered me an insult I cannot forgive. It is unbearable to be thought the daughter of a thief." Dick nerved himself for a last effort. "What does your father's character matter? I want you. You will be safe from everything that could hurt you if you come to me." He hesitated and then went on in a hoarse, determined voice: "You must come. I can't let you live among those plotters and gamblers. It's impossible. Clare, when I was ill and you thought me asleep, I watched you sitting in the moonlight. Your face was wonderfully gentle and I thought----" She rose and stopped him with a gesture. "There is no more to be said, Mr. Brandon. I cannot marry you, and if you are generous, you will go." Dick, who had been gripping the chair hard, let his hand fall slackly and turned away. Clare watched him cross the patio, and stood tensely still, fighting against an impulse to call him back as he neared the door. Then as he vanished into the shadow of the arch she sat down with sudden limpness and buried her hot face in her hands. CHAPTER XXII THE OFFICIAL MIND On the evening after Clare's refusal, Dick entered the principal café at Santa Brigida. The large, open-fronted room was crowded, for, owing to the duty, newspapers were not generally bought by the citizens, who preferred to read them at the cafés, and the _Diario_ had just come in. The eagerness to secure a copy indicated that something important had happened, and after listening to the readers' remarks, Dick gathered that the French liner had sunk and a number of her passengers were drowned. This, however, did not seem to account for the angry excitement some of the men showed, and Dick waited until a polite half-breed handed him the newspaper. A ship's lifeboat, filled with exhausted passengers, had reached a bay some distance along the coast, and it appeared from their stories that the liner was steaming across a smooth sea in the dark when a large vessel, which carried no lights, emerged from a belt of haze and came towards her. The French captain steered for the land, hoping to reach territorial waters, where he would be safe, but the stranger was faster and opened fire with a heavy gun. The liner held on, although she was twice hit, but after a time there was an explosion below and her colored firemen ran up on deck. Then the ship stopped, boats were hoisted out, and it was believed that several got safely away, though only one had so far reached the coast. This boat was forced to pass the attacking vessel rather close, and an officer declared that she looked like one of the Spanish liners and her funnel was black. Dick gave the newspaper to the next man and sat still with knitted brows, for his suspicions were suddenly confirmed. The raider had a black funnel, and was no doubt the ship he had seen steering for Adexe. An enemy commerce-destroyer was lurking about the coast, and she could not be allowed to continue her deadly work, which her resemblance to the Spanish vessels would make easier. For all that, Dick saw that anything he might do would cost him much, since Clare had said that she and Kenwardine must stand together. This was true, in a sense, because if Kenwardine got into trouble, she would share his disgrace and perhaps his punishment. Moreover, she might think he had been unjustly treated and blame Dick for helping to persecute him. Things were getting badly entangled, and Dick, leaning back in his chair, vacantly looked about. The men had gathered in groups round the tables, their dark faces showing keen excitement as they argued with dramatic gestures about international law. For the most part, they looked indignant, but Dick understood that they did not expect much from their Government. One said the English would send a cruiser and something might be done by the Americans; another explained the Monroe Doctrine in a high-pitched voice. Dick, however, tried not to listen, because difficulties he had for some time seen approaching must now be faced. He had been forced to leave England in disgrace, and his offense would be remembered if he returned. Indeed, he had come to regard America as his home, but patriotic feelings he had thought dead had awakened and would not be denied. He might still be able to serve his country and meant to do so, though it was plain that this would demand a sacrifice. Love and duty clashed, but he must do his best and leave the rest to luck. Getting up with sudden resolution, he left the café and went to the British consulate. When he stopped outside the building, to which the royal arms were fixed, he remarked that two peons were lounging near, but, without troubling about them, knocked at the door. There was only a Vice-Consul at Santa Brigida, and the post, as sometimes happens, was held by a merchant, who had, so a clerk stated, already gone home. Dick, however, knew where he lived and determined to seek him at his house. He looked round once or twice on his way there, without seeing anybody who seemed to be following him, but when he reached the iron gate he thought a dark figure stopped in the gloom across the street. Still, it might only be a citizen going into his house, and Dick rang the bell. He was shown on to a balcony where the Vice-Consul sat with his Spanish wife and daughter at a table laid with wine and fruit. He did not look pleased at being disturbed, but told Dick to sit down when the ladies withdrew. "Now," he said, "you can state your business, but I have an appointment in a quarter of an hour." Dick related his suspicions about the coaling company, and described what he had seen at Adexe and the visit of the black-funnel boat, but before he had gone far, realized that he was wasting his time. The Vice-Consul's attitude was politely indulgent. "This is a rather extraordinary tale," he remarked when Dick stopped. "I have told you what I saw and what I think it implies," Dick answered with some heat. "Just so. I do not doubt your honesty, but it is difficult to follow your arguments." "It oughtn't to be difficult. You have heard that the French liner was sunk by a black-funnel boat." "Black funnels are common. Why do you imagine the vessel you saw was an auxiliary cruiser?" "Because her crew looked like navy men. They were unusually numerous and were busy at drill." "Boat or fire drill probably. They often exercise them at it on board passenger ships. Besides, I think you stated that it was dark." Dick pondered for a few moments. He had heard that Government officials were hard to move, and knew that, in hot countries, Englishmen who marry native wives sometimes grow apathetic and succumb to the climatic lethargy. But this was not all: he had to contend against the official dislike of anything informal and unusual. Had he been in the navy, his warning would have received attention, but as he was a humble civilian he had, so to speak, no business to know anything about such matters. "Well," he said, "you can make inquiries and see if my conclusions are right." The Vice-Consul smiled. "That is not so. You can pry into the coaling company's affairs and, if you are caught, it would be looked upon as an individual impertinence. If I did anything of the kind, it would reflect upon the Foreign Office and compromise our relations with a friendly state. The Adexe wharf is registered according to the laws of this country as being owned by a native company." "Then go to the authorities and tell them what you know." "The difficulty is that I know nothing except that you have told me a somewhat improbable tale." "But you surely don't mean to let the raider do what she likes? Her next victim may be a British vessel." "I imagine the British admiralty will attend to that, and I have already sent a cablegram announcing the loss of the French boat." Dick saw that he was doubted and feared that argument would be useless, but he would not give in. "A raider must have coal and it's not easy to get upon this coast," he resumed. "You could render her harmless by cutting off supplies." "Do you know much about international law and how far it prohibits a neutral country from selling coal to a belligerent?" "I don't know anything about it; but if our Foreign Office is any good, they ought to be able to stop the thing," Dick answered doggedly. "Then let me try to show you how matters stand. We will suppose that your suspicions were correct and I thought fit to make representations to the Government of this country. What do you think would happen?" "They'd be forced to investigate your statements." "Exactly. The head of a department would be asked to report. You probably know that every official whose business brings him into touch with it is in the coaling company's pay; I imagine there is not a foreign trader here who does not get small favors in return for bribes. Bearing this in mind, it is easy to understand what the report would be. I should have shown that we suspected the good faith of a friendly country, and there would be nothing gained." "Still, you can't let the matter drop," Dick insisted. "Although you have given me no proof of your statements, which seem to be founded on conjectures, I have not said that I intend to let it drop. In the meantime I am entitled to ask for some information about yourself. You look like an Englishman and have not been here long. Did you leave home after the war broke out?" "Yes," said Dick, who saw where he was leading, "very shortly afterwards." "Why? Men like you are needed for the army." Dick colored, but looked his questioner steadily in the face. "I was in the army. They turned me out." The Vice-Consul made a gesture. "I have nothing to do with the reason for this; but you can see my difficulty. You urge me to meddle with things that require very delicate handling and with which my interference would have to be justified. No doubt, you can imagine the feelings of my superiors when I admitted that I acted upon hints given me by a stranger in the employ of Americans, who owned to having been dismissed from the British army." Dick got up, with his face firmly set. "Very well. There's no more to be said. I won't trouble you again." Leaving the house, he walked moodily back to the end of the line. The Vice-Consul was a merchant and thought first of his business, which might suffer if he gained the ill-will of corrupt officials. He would, no doubt, move if he were forced, but he would demand incontestable proof, which Dick feared he could not find. Well, he had done his best and been rebuffed, and now the temptation to let the matter drop was strong. To go on would bring him into conflict with Kenwardine, and perhaps end in his losing Clare, but he must go on. For all that, he would leave the Vice-Consul alone and trust to getting some help from his employer's countrymen. If it could be shown that the enemy was establishing a secret base for naval operations at Adexe, he thought the Americans would protest. The Vice-Consul, however, had been of some service by teaching him the weakness of his position. He must strengthen it by carefully watching what went on, and not interfere until he could do so with effect. Finding the locomotive waiting, he returned to his shack and with an effort fixed his mind upon the plans of some work that he must superintend in the morning. For the next few days he was busily occupied. A drum of the traveling crane broke and as it could not be replaced for a time, Dick put up an iron derrick of Bethune's design to lower the concrete blocks into place. They were forced to use such material as they could find, and the gang of peons who handled the chain-tackle made a poor substitute for a steam engine. In consequence, the work progressed slowly and Stuyvesant ordered it to be carried on into the night. Jake and Bethune grumbled, but Dick found the longer hours and extra strain something of a relief. He had now no leisure to indulge in painful thoughts; besides, while he was busy at the dam he could not watch Kenwardine, and his duty to his employer justified his putting off an unpleasant task. One hot night he stood, soaked with perspiration and dressed in soiled duck clothes, some distance beneath the top of the dam, which broke down to a lower level at the spot. There was no moon, but a row of blast-lamps that grew dimmer as they receded picked out the tall embankment with jets of pulsating flame. Glimmering silvery gray in the light, it cut against the gloom in long sweeping lines, with a molded rib that added a touch of grace where the slope got steeper towards its top. This was Dick's innovation. He had fought hard for it and when Jake supported him Stuyvesant had written to Fuller, who sanctioned the extra cost. The rib marked the fine contour of the structure and fixed its bold curve upon the eye. Where the upper surface broke off, two gangs of men stood beside the tackles that trailed away from the foot of the derrick. The flame that leaped with a roar from a lamp on a tripod picked out some of the figures with harsh distinctness, but left the rest dim and blurred. Dick stood eight or nine feet below, with the end of the line, along which the blocks were brought, directly above his head. A piece of rail had been clamped across the metals to prevent the truck running over the edge. Jake stood close by on the downward slope of the dam. Everything was ready for the lowering of the next block, but they had a few minutes to wait. "That rib's a great idea," Jake remarked. "Tones up the whole work; it's curious what you can do with a flowing line, but it must be run just right. Make it the least too flat and you get harshness, too full and the effect's vulgarly pretty or voluptuous. Beauty's severely chaste and I allow, as far as form goes, this dam's a looker." He paused and indicated the indigo sky, flaring lights, and sweep of pearly stone. "Then if you want color, you can revel in silver, orange, and blue." Dick, who nodded, shared Jake's admiration. He had helped to build the dam and, in a sense, had come to love it. Any defacement or injury to it would hurt him. Just then a bright, blinking spot emerged from the dark at the other end of the line and increased in radiance as it came forward, flickering along the slope of stone. It was the head-lamp of the locomotive that pushed the massive concrete block they waited for. The block cut off the light immediately in front of and below it, and when the engine, snorting harshly, approached the edge of the gap somebody shouted and steam was cut off. The truck stopped just short of the rail fastened across the line, and Dick looked up. The blast-lamp flung its glare upon the engine and the rays of the powerful head-light drove horizontally into the dark, but the space beyond the broken end of the dam was kept in shadow by the block, and the glitter above dazzled his eyes. "Swing the derrick-boom and tell the engineer to come on a yard or two," he said. There was a patter of feet, a rattle of chains, and somebody called: "_Adelante locomotura!_" The engine snorted, the wheels ground through the fragments of concrete scattered about the line, and the big dark mass rolled slowly forward. It seemed to Dick to be going farther than it ought, but he had ascertained that the guard-rail was securely fastened. As he watched the front of the truck, Jake, who stood a few feet to one side, leaned out and seized his shoulder. "Jump!" he cried, pulling him forward. Dick made an awkward leap, and alighting on the steep front of the dam, fell heavily on his side. As he clutched the stones to save himself from sliding down, a black mass plunged from the line above and there was a deafening crash as it struck the spot he had left. Then a shower of fragments fell upon him and he choked amidst a cloud of dust. Hoarse shouts broke out above, and he heard men running about the dam as he got up, half dazed. "Are you all right, Jake?" he asked. "Not a scratch," was the answer; and Dick, scrambling up the bank, called for a lamp. It was brought by a big mulatto, and Dick held up the light. The last-fitted block of the ribbed course was split in two, and the one that had fallen was scattered about in massive broken lumps. Amidst these lay the guard-rail, and the front wheels of the truck hung across the gap above. There was other damage, and Dick frowned as he looked about. "We'll be lucky if we get the broken molding out in a day, and I expect we'll have to replace two of the lower blocks," he said. "It's going to be an awkward and expensive job now that the cement has set." "Is that all?" Jake asked with a forced grin. "It's enough," said Dick. "However, we'll be better able to judge in the daylight." Then he turned to the engineer, who was standing beside the truck, surrounded by excited peons. "How did it happen?" "I had my hand on the throttle when I got the order to go ahead, and let her make a stroke or two, reckoning the guard-rail would snub up the car. I heard the wheels clip and slammed the link-gear over, because it looked as if she wasn't going to stop. When she reversed, the couplings held the car and the block slipped off." "Are you sure you didn't give her too much steam?" "No, sir. I've been doing this job quite a while, and know just how smart a push she wants. It was the guard-rail slipping that made the trouble." "I can't understand why it did slip. The fastening clamps were firm when I looked at them." "Well," remarked the engineer, "the guard's certainly in the pit, and I felt her give as soon as the car-wheels bit." Dick looked hard at him and thought he spoke the truth. He was a steady fellow and a good driver. "Put your engine in the house and take down the feed-pump you were complaining about. We won't want her to-morrow," he said, and dismissing the men, returned to his shack, where he sat down rather limply on the veranda. "I don't understand the thing," he said to Jake. "The guard-rail's heavy and I watched the smith make the clamps we fixed it with. One claw went over the rail, the other under the flange of the metal that formed the track, and sudden pressure would jamb the guard down. Then, not long before the accident, I hardened up the clamp." "You hit it on the back?" "Of course. I'd have loosened the thing by hitting the front." "That's so," Jake agreed, somewhat dryly. "We'll look for the clamps in the morning. But you didn't seem very anxious to get out of the way." "I expect I forgot to thank you for warning me. Anyhow, you know----" "Yes, I know," said Jake. "You didn't think about it; your mind was on your job. Still, I suppose you see that if you'd been a moment later you'd have been smashed pretty flat?" Dick gave him a quick glance. There was something curious about Jake's tone, but Dick knew he did not mean to emphasize the value of his warning. It was plain that he had had a very narrow escape, but since one must be prepared for accidents in heavy engineering work, he did not see why this should jar his nerves. Yet they were jarred. The danger he had scarcely heeded had now a disturbing effect. He could imagine what would have happened had he delayed his leap. However, he was tired, and perhaps rather highly strung, and he got up. "It's late, and we had better go to bed," he said. CHAPTER XXIII THE CLAMP When work began next morning, Jake asked Dick if he should order the peons to search for the clamps that had held the guard-rail. "I think not," said Dick. "It would be better if you looked for the things yourself." "Very well. Perhaps you're right." Dick wondered how much Jake suspected, particularly as he did not appear to be searching for anything when he moved up and down among the broken concrete. Half an hour later, when none of the peons were immediately about, he came up with his hand in his pocket and indicated a corner beside a block where there was a little shade and they were not likely to be overlooked. "I've got one," he remarked. When they sat down Jake took out a piece of thick iron about six inches long, forged into something like the shape of a U, though the curve was different and one arm was shorter than the other. Much depended on the curve, for the thing was made on the model of an old-fashioned but efficient clamp that carpenters sometimes use for fastening work to a bench. A blow or pressure on one part wedged it fast, but a sharp tap on the other enabled it to be lifted off. This was convenient, because as the work progressed, the track along the dam had to be lengthened and the guard fixed across a fresh pair of rails. Taking the object from Jake, Dick examined it carefully. He thought he recognized the dint where he had struck the iron, and then, turning it over, noted another mark. This had been made recently, because the surface of the iron was bright where the hammer had fallen, and a blow there would loosen the clamp. He glanced at Jake, who nodded. "It looks very suspicious, but that's all. You can't tell how long the mark would take to get dull. Besides, we have moved the guard two or three times in the last few days." "That's true," said Dick. "Still, I wedged the thing up shortly before the accident. It has stood a number of shocks; in fact, it can't be loosened by pressure on the back. When do you _think_ the last blow was struck?" "After yours," Jake answered meaningly. "Then the probability is that somebody wanted the truck to fall into the hole and smash the block." "Yes," said Jake, who paused and looked hard at Dick. "But I'm not sure that was all he wanted. You were standing right under the block, and if I hadn't been a little to one side, where the lights didn't dazzle me, the smashing of a lot of concrete wouldn't have been the worst damage." Dick said nothing, but his face set hard as he braced himself against the unnerving feeling that had troubled him on the previous night. The great block had not fallen by accident; it looked as if somebody had meant to take his life. The cunning of the attempt daunted him. The blow had been struck in a manner that left him a very slight chance of escape; and his subtle antagonist might strike again. "What are you going to do about it?" Jake resumed. "Nothing," said Dick. Jake looked at him in surprise. "Don't you see what you're up against?" "It's pretty obvious; but if I ask questions, I'll find out nothing and show that I'm suspicious. If we let the thing go as an accident, we may catch the fellow off his guard." "My notion is that you know more than you mean to tell. Now you began by taking care of me, but it looks as if the matter would end in my taking care of you. Seems to me you need it and I don't like to see you playing a lone hand." Dick gave him a grateful smile. "If I see how you can help, I'll let you know. In the meantime, you'll say nothing to imply that I'm on the watch." "Well," said Jake, grinning, "if you can bluff Stuyvesant, you'll be smarter than I thought. You're a rather obvious person and he's not a fool." He went away, but Dick lighted a cigarette and sat still in the shade. He was frankly daunted, but did not mean to stop, for he saw that he was following the right clue. His reason for visiting the Adexe wharf had been guessed. He had been watched when he went to the Vice-Consul, and it was plain that his enemies thought he knew enough to be dangerous. The difficulty was that he did not know who they were. He hated to think that Kenwardine was a party to the plot, but this, while possible, was by no means certain. At Santa Brigida, a man's life was not thought of much account, and it would, no doubt, have been enough if Kenwardine had intimated that Dick might cause trouble; but then Kenwardine must have known what was likely to follow his hint. After all, however, this was not very important. He must be careful, but do nothing to suggest that he understood the risk he ran. If his antagonists thought him stupid, so much the better. He saw the difficulty of playing what Jake called a lone hand against men skilled in the intricate game; but he could not ask for help until he was sure of his ground. Besides, he must find a way of stopping Kenwardine without involving Clare. In the meantime he had a duty to Fuller, and throwing away his cigarette, resumed his work. Two or three days later he met Kenwardine in a café where he was waiting for a man who supplied some stores to the camp. When Kenwardine saw Dick he crossed the floor and sat down at his table. His Spanish dress became him, he looked polished and well-bred, and it was hard to think him a confederate of half-breed ruffians who would not hesitate about murder. But Dick wondered whether Clare had told him about his proposal. "I suppose I may congratulate you on your recent promotion? You certainly deserve it," Kenwardine remarked with an ironical smile. "I imagine your conscientiousness and energy are unusual, but perhaps at times rather inconvenient." "Thanks!" said Dick. "How did you hear about the matter?" "In Santa Brigida, one hears everything that goes on. We have nothing much to do but talk about our neighbors' affairs." Dick wondered whether Kenwardine meant to hint that as his time was largely unoccupied he had only a small part in managing the coaling business, but he said: "We are hardly your neighbors at the camp." "I suppose that's true. We certainly don't see you often." This seemed to indicate that Kenwardine did not know about Dick's recent visit. He could have no reason for hiding his knowledge, and it looked as if Clare did not tell her father everything. "You have succeeded in keeping your young friend out of our way," Kenwardine resumed. "Still, as he hasn't your love of work and sober character, there's some risk of a reaction if you hold him in too hard. Jake's at an age when it's difficult to be satisfied with cement." Dick laughed. "I really did try to keep him, but was helped by luck. We have been unusually busy at the dam and although I don't know that his love for cement is strong he doesn't often leave a half-finished job." "If you work upon his feelings in that way, I expect you'll beat me; but after all, I'm not scheming to entangle the lad. He's a bright and amusing youngster, but there wouldn't be much profit in exploiting him. However, you have had some accidents at the dam, haven't you?" Dick was immediately on his guard, but he answered carelessly: "We broke a crane-drum, which delayed us." "And didn't a truck fall down the embankment and do some damage?" "It did," said Dick. "We had a big molded block, which cost a good deal to make, smashed to pieces, and some others split. I had something of an escape, too, because I was standing under the block." He was watching Kenwardine and thought his expression changed and his easy pose stiffened. His self-control was good, but Dick imagined he was keenly interested and surprised. "Then you ran a risk of being killed?" "Yes. Jake, however, saw the danger and warned me just before the block fell." "That was lucky. But you have a curious temperament. When we began to talk of the accidents, you remembered the damage to Fuller's property before the risk to your life." "Well," said Dick, "you see I wasn't hurt, but the damage still keeps us back." "How did the truck run off the line? I should have thought you'd have taken precautions against anything of the kind." Dick pondered. He believed Kenwardine really was surprised to hear he had nearly been crushed by the block; but the fellow was clever and had begun to talk about the accidents. He must do nothing to rouse his suspicions, and began a painstaking account of the matter, explaining that the guard-rail had got loose, but saying nothing about the clamps being tampered with. Indeed, the trouble he took about the explanation was in harmony with his character and his interest in his work, and presently Kenwardine looked bored. "I quite understand the thing," he said, and got up as the man Dick was waiting for came towards the table. The merchant did not keep Dick long, and he left the café feeling satisfied. Kenwardine had probably had him watched and had had something to do with the theft of the sheet from his blotting pad, but knew nothing about the attempt upon his life. After hearing about it, he understood why the accident happened, but had no cause to think that Dick knew, and some of his fellow conspirators were responsible for this part of the plot. Dick wondered whether he would try to check them now he did know, because if they tried again, they would do so with Kenwardine's tacit consent. A few days later, he was sitting with Bethune and Jake one evening when Stuyvesant came in and threw a card, printed with the flag of a British steamship company, on the table. "I'm not going, but you might like to do so," he said. Dick, who was nearest, picked up the card. It was an invitation to a dinner given to celebrate the first call of a large new steamship at Santa Brigida, and he imagined it had been sent to the leading citizens and merchants who imported goods by the company's vessels. After glancing at it, he passed it on. "I'll go," Bethune remarked. "After the Spartan simplicity we practise at the camp, it will be a refreshing change to eat a well-served dinner in a mailboat's saloon, though I've no great admiration for British cookery." "It can't be worse than the dago kind we're used to," Jake broke in. "What's the matter with it, anyhow?" "It's like the British character, heavy and unchanging," Bethune replied. "A London hotel menu, with English beer and whisky, in the tropics! Only people without imagination would offer it to their guests; and then they've printed a list of the ports she's going to at the bottom. Would any other folk except perhaps the Germans, couple an invitation with a hint that they were ready to trade? If a Spaniard comes to see you on business, he talks for half an hour about politics or your health, and apologizes for mentioning such a thing as commerce when he comes to the point." "The British plan has advantages," said Stuyvesant. "You know what you're doing when you deal with them." "That's so. We know, for example, when this boat will arrive at any particular place and when she'll sail; while you can reckon on a French liner's being three or four days late and on the probability of a Spaniard's not turning up at all. But whether you have revolutions, wars, or tidal waves, the Britisher sails on schedule." "There's some risk in that just now," Stuyvesant observed. Bethune turned to Jake. "You had better come. The card states there'll be music, and the agent will hire Vallejo's band, which is pretty good. Guitars, mandolins, and fiddles on the poop, and señoritas in gauzy dresses flitting through graceful dances in the after well! The entertainment ought to appeal to your artistic taste." "I'm going," Jake replied. "So am I," said Dick. Jake grinned. "That's rather sudden, isn't it? However, you may be needed to look after Bethune." An evening or two later, they boarded the launch at the town mole. The sea was smooth and glimmered with phosphorescence in the shadow of the land, for the moon had not risen far above the mountains. Outside the harbor mouth, the liner's long, black hull cut against the dusky blue, the flowing curve of her sheer picked out by a row of lights. Over this rose three white tiers of passenger decks, pierced by innumerable bright points, with larger lights in constellations outside, while masts and funnels ran up, faintly indicated, into the gloom above. She scarcely moved to the lift of the languid swell, but as the undulations passed there was a pale-green shimmer about her waterline that magnified the height to her topmost deck. She looked unsubstantial, rather like a floating fairy palace than a ship, and as the noisy launch drew nearer Jake gave his imagination rein. "She was made, just right, by magic; a ship of dreams," he said. "Look how she glimmers, splashed with cadmium radiance, on velvety blue; and her formlessness outside the lights wraps her in mystery. Yet you get a hint of swiftness." "You know she has power and speed," Bethune interrupted. "No," said Jake firmly, "it's not a matter of knowledge; she appeals to your imagination. You feel that airy fabric must travel like the wind." Then he turned to Dick, who was steering. "There's a boat ahead with a freight of señoritas in white and orange gossamer; they know something about grace of line in this country. Are you going to rush past them, like a dull barbarian, in this kicking, snorting launch?" "I'll make for the other side of the ship, if you like." "You needn't go so far," Jake answered with a chuckle. "But you might muzzle your rackety engine." Dick, who had seen the boat, gave her room enough, but let the engine run. He imagined that Jake's motive for slowing down might be misunderstood by the señoritas' guardian, since a touch of Moorish influence still colors the Spaniard's care of his women. As the launch swung to starboard her red light shone into the boat, and Dick recognized Don Sebastian sitting next a stout lady in a black dress. There were three or four girls beside them, and then Dick's grasp on the tiller stiffened, for the ruby beam picked out Clare's face. He thought it wore a tired look, but she turned her head, as if dazzled, and the light passed on, and Dick's heart beat as the boat dropped back into the gloom. Since Kenwardine had sent Clare with Don Sebastian, he could not be going, and Dick might find an opportunity for speaking to her alone. He meant to do so, although the interview would not be free from embarrassment. Then he avoided another boat, and stopping the engine, steered for the steamer's ladder. CHAPTER XXIV THE ALTERED SAILING LIST When dinner was over, Dick sat by himself in a quiet spot on the liner's quarter-deck. There was a tall, iron bulwark beside him, but close by this was replaced by netted rails, through which he caught the pale shimmer of the sea. The warm land-breeze had freshened and ripples splashed against the vessel's side, while every now and then a languid gurgle rose from about her waterline and the foam her plates threw off was filled with phosphorescent flame. A string band was playing on the poop, and passengers and guests moved through the intricate figures of a Spanish dance on the broad deck below. Their poses were graceful and their dress was picturesque, but Dick watched them listlessly. He was not in a mood for dancing, for he had been working hard at the dam and his thoughts were disturbed. Clare had refused him, and although he did not accept her decision as final, he could see no way of taking her out of her father's hands, while he had made no progress towards unraveling the latter's plots. Kenwardine was not on board, but Dick had only seen Clare at some distance off across the table in the saloon. Moreover, he thought she must have taken some trouble to avoid meeting him. Then he remembered the speeches made by the visitors at dinner, and the steamship officers' replies. The former, colored by French and Spanish politeness and American wit, eulogized the power of the British navy and the courage of her merchant captains. There was war, they said, but British commerce went on without a check; goods shipped beneath the red ensign would be delivered safe in spite of storm and strife; Britannia, with trident poised, guarded the seas. For this the boldly-announced sailing list served as text, but Dick, who made allowances for exuberant Latin sentiment, noted the captain's response with some surprise. His speech was flamboyant, and did not harmonize with the character of the man, who had called at the port before in command of another ship. He was gray-haired and generally reserved. Dick had not expected him to indulge in cheap patriotism, but he called the British ensign the meteor flag, defied its enemies, and declared that no hostile fleets could prevent his employers carrying their engagements out. Since the man was obviously sober, Dick supposed he was touting for business and wanted to assure the merchants that the sailings of the company's steamers could be relied upon. Still, this kind of thing was not good British form. By and by Don Sebastian came down a ladder from the saloon deck with Clare behind him. Dick felt tempted to retire but conquered the impulse and the Spaniard came up. "I have some business with the purser, who is waiting for me, but cannot find my señora," he explained, and Dick, knowing that local conventions forbade his leaving Clare alone, understood it as a request that he should take care of her until the other's return. "I should be glad to stay with Miss Kenwardine," he answered with a bow, and when Don Sebastian went off opened a deck-chair and turned to the girl. "You see how I was situated!" he said awkwardly. Clare smiled as she sat down. "Yes; you are not to blame. Indeed, I do not see why you should apologize." "Well," said Dick, "I hoped that I might meet you, though I feared you would sooner I did not. When I saw you on the ladder, I felt I ought to steal away, but must confess that I was glad when I found it was too late. Somehow, things seem to bring us into opposition. They have done so from the beginning." "You're unnecessarily frank," Clare answered with a blush. "Since you couldn't steal away, wouldn't it have been better not to hint that I was anxious to avoid you? After all, I could have done so if I had really wanted." "I expect that's true. Of course what happened when we last met couldn't trouble you as it troubled me." "Are you trying to be tactful now?" Clare asked, smiling. "No; it's my misfortune that I haven't much tact. If I had, I might be able to straighten matters out." "Don't you understand that they can't be straightened out?" "I don't," Dick answered stubbornly. "For all that, I won't trouble you again until I find a way out of the tangle." Clare gave him a quick, disturbed look. "It would be much better if you took it for granted that we must, to some extent, be enemies." "No. I'm afraid your father and I are enemies, but that's not the same." "It is; you can see that it must be," Clare insisted; and then, as if anxious to change the subject, went on: "He was too busy to bring me to-night so I came with Don Sebastian and his wife. It is not very gay in Santa Brigida and one gets tired of being alone." Her voice fell a little as she concluded, and Dick, who understood something of her isolation from friends of her race, longed to take her in his arms and comfort her. Indeed, had the quarter-deck been deserted he might have tried, for he felt that her refusal had sprung from wounded pride and a sense of duty. There was something in her manner that hinted that it had not been easy to send him away. Yet he saw she could be firm and thought it wise to follow her lead. "Then your father has been occupied lately," he remarked. "Yes; he is often away. He goes to Adexe and is generally busy in the evenings. People come to see him and keep him talking in his room. Our friends no longer spend the evening in the patio." Dick understood her. She wanted to convince him that Kenwardine was a business man and only gambled when he had nothing else to do. Indeed, her motive was rather pitifully obvious, and Dick knew that he had not been mistaken about her character. Clare had, no doubt, once yielded to her father's influence, but it was impossible that she took any part in his plots. She was transparently honest; he knew this as he watched her color come and go. "After all, I don't think you liked many of the people who came," he said. "I liked Jake," she answered and stopped with a blush, while Dick felt half ashamed, because he had deprived her of the one companion she could trust. "Well," he said, "it isn't altogether my fault that Jake doesn't come to see you. We have had some accidents that delayed the work and he has not been able to leave the dam." He was silent for the next few minutes. Since Clare was eager to defend Kenwardine, she might be led to tell something about his doings from which a useful hint could be gathered, and Dick greatly wished to know who visited his house on business. Still, it was impossible that he should make the girl betray her father. The fight was between him and Kenwardine, and Clare must be kept outside it. With this resolve, he began to talk about the dancing, and soon afterward Jake came up and asked Clare for the next waltz. She smiled and gave Dick a challenging glance. "Certainly," he said with a bow, and then turned to Jake. "As Miss Kenwardine has been put in my charge, you must bring her back." Jake grinned as he promised and remarked as they went away: "Makes a good dueña, doesn't he? You can trust Dick to guard anything he's told to take care of. In fact, if I'd a sister I wanted to leave in safe hands----" He paused and laughed. "But that's the trouble. It was my sister who told him to take care of me." Dick did not hear Clare's reply, but watched her dance until Don Sebastian's wife came up. After that he went away, and presently strolled along the highest deck. This was narrower than the others, but was extended as far as the side of the ship by beams on which the boats were stowed. There were no rails, for passengers were not allowed up there; but Dick, who was preoccupied and moody, wanted to be alone. The moon had now risen above the mountains and the sea glittered between the shore and the ship. Looking down, he saw a row of boats rise and fall with the languid swell near her tall side, and the flash of the surf that washed the end of the mole. Then, taking out a cigarette, he strolled towards the captain's room, which stood behind the bridge, and stopped near it in the shadow of a big lifeboat. The room was lighted, and the door and windows were half open because the night was hot. Carelessly glancing in, Dick saw Don Sebastian sitting at the table with the captain and engineer. This somewhat surprised him, for the purser transacted the ship's business and, so far as he knew, none of the other guests had been taken to the captain's room. He felt puzzled about Don Sebastian, whom he had met once or twice. The fellow had an air of authority and the smaller officials treated him with respect. Something in the men's attitude indicated that they were talking confidentially, and Dick thought he had better go away without attracting their attention; but just then the captain turned in his chair and looked out. Dick decided to wait until he looked round again, and next moment Don Sebastian asked: "Have you plenty coal?" "I think so," the engineer replied. "The after-bunkers are full, but I'd have taken a few extra barge-loads here only I didn't want any of the shore peons to see how much I'd already got." Dick did not understand this, because coal was somewhat cheaper and the facilities for shipping it were better at the boat's next port of call, to which it was only a two-days' run. Then the captain, who turned to Don Sebastian, remarked: "Making the sailing list prominent was a happy thought, and it was lucky your friends backed us up well by their speeches. You saw how I took advantage of the lead they gave me, but I hope we haven't overdone the thing." "No," said Don Sebastian thoughtfully; "I imagine nobody suspects anything yet." "Perhaps you had better clear the ship soon, sir," said the engineer. "Steam's nearly up and it takes some coal----" The room door slipped off its hook and swung wide open as the vessel rolled, and Dick, who could not withdraw unnoticed, decided to light his cigarette in order that the others might see that they were not alone. As he struck the match the captain got up. "Who's that?" he asked. "One of the foreign passengers, I expect; the mates can't keep them off this deck," the engineer replied. "I don't suppose the fellow knows English, but shall I send him down?" "I think not. It might look as if we were afraid of being overheard." Dick held the match to his cigarette for a moment or two before he threw it away, and as he walked past noted that Don Sebastian had come out on deck. Indeed, he thought the man had seen his face and was satisfied, because he turned back into the room. Dick went down a ladder to the deck below, where he stopped and thought over what he had heard. It was plain that some precautions had been taken against the risk of capture, but he could not understand why Don Sebastian had been told about them. By and by he thought he would speak to the purser, whom he knew, and went down the alleyway that led to his office. The door was hooked back, but the passage was narrow and a fat Spanish lady blocked the entrance. She was talking to the purser and Dick saw that he must wait until she had finished. A man stood a few yards behind her, unscrewing a flute, and as a folded paper that looked like music stuck out of his pocket he appeared to belong to the band. "But it is Tuesday you arrive at Palomas!" the lady exclaimed. "About then," the purser answered in awkward Castilian. "We may be a little late." "But how much late?" "I cannot tell. Perhaps a day or two." "At dinner the captain said----" "Just so. But he was speaking generally without knowing all the arrangements." Dick could not see into the office, but heard the purser open a drawer and shuffle some papers, as if he wanted to get rid of his questioner. "It is necessary that I know when we arrive," the lady resumed. "If it is not Tuesday, I must send a telegram." The purser shut the drawer noisily, but just then a bell rang overhead and the whistle blew to warn the visitors that they must go ashore. "Then you must be quick," said the purser. "Write your message here and give it to me. You need not be disturbed. We will land you at Palomas." The lady entered the office, but Dick thought her telegram would not be sent, and a moment later the captain's plan dawned on him. The ship would call at the ports named, but not in the order stated, and this was why she needed so much coal. She would probably steam first to the port farthest off and then work backward, and the sailing list was meant to put the raider off the track. The latter's commander, warned by spies who would send him the list, would think he knew where to find the vessel at any particular date, when, however, she would be somewhere else. Then Dick wondered why the musician was hanging about, and went up to him. "The sobrecargo's busy," he said in English. "You'll be taken to sea unless you get up on deck." "I no wanta el sobrecargo," the man replied in a thick, stupid voice. "The music is thirsty; I wanta drink." The second-class bar was farther down the alleyway, and Dick, indicating it, turned back and made his way to the poop as fast as he could, for he did not think the man was as drunk as he looked. He found the musicians collecting their stands, and went up to the bandmaster. "There's one of your men below who has been drinking too much caña," he said. "You had better look after him." "But they are all here," the bandmaster answered, glancing round the poop. "The man had a flute." "But we have no flute-player." "Then he must have been a passenger," said Dick, who hurried to the gangway. After hailing his fireman to bring the launch alongside, he threw a quick glance about. The shore boatmen were pushing their craft abreast of the ladder and shouting as they got in each other's way, but one boat had already left the ship and was pulling fast towards the harbor. There seemed to be only one man on board besides her crew, and Dick had no doubt that he was the flute-player. He must be followed, since it was important to find out whom he met and if, as Dick suspected, he meant to send off a telegram. But the liner's captain must be warned, and Dick turned hastily around. The windlass was rattling and the bridge, on which he could see the captain's burly figure, was some distance off, while the passage between the gangway and deckhouse was blocked by the departing guests. The anchor would probably be up before he could push his way through the crowd, and if he was not carried off to sea, he would certainly lose sight of the spy. Writing a line or two on the leaf of his pocket-book, he tore it out and held it near a Creole steward boy. "Take that to the sobrecargo at once," he cried, and seeing the boy stoop to pick up the note, which fell to the deck, ran down the ladder. He had, however, to wait a minute while the fireman brought the launch alongside between the other boats, and when they pushed off Don Sebastian, scrambling across one of the craft, jumped on board. He smiled when Dick looked at him with annoyed surprise. "I think my business is yours, but there is no time for explanations," he said. "Tell your man to go full speed." The launch quivered and leaped ahead with the foam curling at her bows, and Dick did not look round when he heard an expostulating shout. Jake and Bethune must get ashore as they could; his errand was too important to stop for them, particularly as he could no longer see the boat in front. She had crossed the glittering belt of moonlight and vanished into the shadow near the mole. Her occupant had had some minutes' start and had probably landed, but it might be possible to find out where he had gone. "Screw the valve wide open," Dick told the fireman. The rattle of the engine quickened a little, the launch lifted her bows, and her stern sank into the hollow of a following wave. When she steamed up the harbor a boat lay near some steps, and as the launch slackened speed Dick asked her crew which way their passenger had gone. "Up the mole, señor," one answered breathlessly. "It is all you will learn from them," Don Sebastian remarked. "I think we will try the _telegrafia_ first." There was no time for questions and Dick jumped out as the launch ran alongside the steps. Don Sebastian stopped him when he reached the top. "In Santa Brigida, nobody runs unless there is an earthquake or a revolution. We do not want people to follow us." Dick saw the force of this and started for the telegraph office, walking as fast as possible. When he looked round, his companion had vanished, but he rejoined him on the steps of the building. They went in together and found nobody except a languid clerk leaning on a table. Don Sebastian turned to Dick and said in English, "It will be better if you leave this matter to me." Dick noted that the clerk suddenly became alert when he saw his companion, but he waited at a few yards' distance and Don Sebastian said: "A man came in not long since with a telegram. He was short and very dark and probably signed the form Vinoles." "He did, señor," said the clerk. "Very well. I want to see the message before it is sent." "It has gone, señor, three or four minutes ago." Don Sebastian made a gesture of resignation, spreading out his hands. "Then bring me the form." Dick thought it significant that the clerk at once obeyed, but Don Sebastian, who stood still for a moment, turned to him. "It is as I thought," he said in English, and ordered the clerk: "Take us into the manager's room." The other did so, and after shutting the door withdrew. Don Sebastian threw the form on the table. "It seems we are too late," he said. CHAPTER XXV THE WATER-PIPE Dick sat down and knitted his brows as he studied his companion. Don Sebastian was a Peninsular Spaniard and in consequence of a finer type than the majority of the inhabitants of Santa Brigida. Dick, who thought he could confide in him, needed help, but the matter was delicate. In the meantime, the other waited with a smile that implied that he guessed his thoughts, until Dick, leaning forward with sudden resolution, picked up the telegram, which was written in cipher. "This is probably a warning to somebody that the vessel will not call at the ports in the advertised order," he said. "I imagine so. You guessed the captain's plan from what you heard outside the room?" "Not altogether, but it gave me a hint. It looks as if you recognized me when I was standing near the lifeboat." "I did," said Don Sebastian meaningly. "I think I showed my confidence in you." Dick nodded, because it was plain that the other had enabled him to go away without being questioned. "Very well; I'll tell you what I know," he said, and related how he had found the man with the flute loitering about the purser's door. As he finished, Don Sebastian got up. "You made one mistake; you should have given your note to an Englishman and not a young Creole lad. However, we must see if the steamer can be stopped." He led the way up a staircase to the flat roof, where Dick ran to the parapet. Looking across the town, he saw in the distance a dim white light and a long smear of smoke that trailed across the glittering sea. He frowned as he watched it, for the ship was English and he felt himself responsible for the safety of all on board her. He had done his best, when there was no time to pause and think, but perhaps he had blundered. Suppose the Creole boy had lost his note or sent it to somebody ashore? "We are too late again," Don Sebastian remarked as he sat down on the parapet. "Well, one must be philosophical. Things do not always go as one would wish." "Why didn't you warn the captain that his plan was found out, instead of jumping into the launch?" Dick asked angrily. Don Sebastian smiled. "Because I did not know. I saw a man steal down the ladder and thought he might be a spy, but could not tell how much he had learned. If he had learned nothing, it would have been dangerous for the captain to change his plan again and keep to the sailing list." "That's true," Dick agreed shortly. His chin was thrust forward and his head slightly tilted back. He looked very English and aggressive as he resumed: "But I want to know what your interest in the matter is." "Then I must tell you. To begin with, I am employed by the Government and am in the President's confidence. The country is poor and depends for its development on foreign capital, while it is important that we should have the support and friendship of Great Britain and the United States. Perhaps you know the latter's jealousy about European interference in American affairs?" Dick nodded. "You feel you have to be careful. But how far can a country go in harboring a belligerent's agents and supplying her fighting ships, without losing its neutrality?" "That is a difficult question," Don Sebastian replied. "I imagine the answer depends upon the temper of the interested country's diplomatic representatives; but the President means to run no risks. We cannot, for example, have it claimed that we allowed a foreign power to buy a coaling station and use it as a base for raids on merchant ships." "Have the Germans bought the Adexe wharf?" Don Sebastian shrugged. "_Quién sabe?_ The principal has not a German name." "Isn't Richter German?" "Richter has gone. It is possible that he has done his work. His friend, however, is the head of the coaling company." "Do you think Kenwardine was his partner? If so, it's hard to understand why he let you come to his house. He's not a fool." The Spaniard's dark eyes twinkled. "Señor Kenwardine is a clever man, and it is not always safer to keep your antagonist in the dark when you play an intricate game. Señor Kenwardine knew it would have been a mistake to show he thought I suspected him and that he had something to conceal. We were both very frank, to a point, and now and then talked about the complications that might spring from the coaling business. Because we value our trade with England and wish to attract British capital, he knew we would not interfere with him unless we had urgent grounds, and wished to learn how far we would let him go. It must be owned that in this country official suspicion can often be disarmed." "By a bribe? I don't think Kenwardine is rich," Dick objected. "Then it is curious that he is able to spend so much at Adexe." Dick frowned, for he saw what the other implied. If Kenwardine had to be supplied with money, where did it come from? It was not his business to defend the man and he must do what he could to protect British shipping, but Kenwardine was Clare's father, and he was not going to expose him until he was sure of his guilt. "But if he was plotting anything that would get your President into trouble, he must have known he would be found out." "Certainly. But suppose he imagined he might not be found out until he had done what he came to do? It would not matter then." Dick said nothing. He knew he was no match for the Spaniard in subtlety, but he would not be forced into helping him. He set his lips, and Don Sebastian watched him with amusement. "Well," said the latter, "you have my sympathy. The señorita's eyes are bright." "I cannot have Miss Kenwardine mentioned," Dick rejoined. "She has nothing to do with the matter." "That is agreed," Don Sebastian answered, and leaned forward as he added in a meaning tone: "You are English and your life has been threatened by men who plot against your country. I might urge that they may try again and I could protect you; but you must see what their thinking you dangerous means. Now I want your help." Dick's face was very resolute as he looked at him. "If any harm comes to the liner, I'll do all I can. But I'll do nothing until I know. In the meantime, can you warn the captain?" Don Sebastian bowed. "I must be satisfied with your promise. We may find the key to the telegram, and must try to get into communication with the steamer." They went down stairs together, but the Spaniard did not leave the office with Dick, who went out alone and found Bethune and Jake waiting at the end of the line. They bantered him about his leaving them on board the ship, but although he thought Jake looked at him curiously, he told them nothing. When work stopped on the Saturday evening, Jake and Dick went to dine with Bethune. It was getting dark when they reached a break in the dam, where a gap had been left open while a sluice was being built. A half-finished tower rose on the other side and a rope ladder hung down for the convenience of anybody who wished to cross. A large iron pipe that carried water to a turbine, however, spanned the chasm, and the sure-footed peons often used it as a bridge. This required some agility and nerve, but it saved an awkward scramble across the sluice and up the concrete. "There's just light enough," Jake remarked, and balancing himself carefully, walked out upon the pipe. Dick followed and getting across safely, stopped at the foot of the tower and looked down at the rough blocks and unfinished ironwork in the bottom of the gap. "The men have been told to use the ladder, but as they seldom do so, it would be safer to run a wire across for a hand-rail," he said. "Anybody who slipped would get a dangerous fall." They went on to Bethune's iron shack, where Stuyvesant joined them, and after dinner sat outside, talking and smoking. A carafe of Spanish wine and some glasses stood on a table close by. "I've fired Jose's and Pancho's gangs; they've been asking for it for some time," Stuyvesant remarked. "In fact, I'd clear out most of the shovel boys if I could replace them. They've been saving money and are getting slack." The others agreed that it might be advisable. The half-breeds from the hills, attracted by good wages, worked well when first engaged, but generally found steady labor irksome and got discontented when they had earned a sum that would enable them to enjoy a change. "I don't think you'd get boys enough in this neighborhood," Bethune said. "That's so. Anyhow, I'd rather hire a less sophisticated crowd; the half-civilized _Meztiso_ is worse than the other sort, but I don't see why we shouldn't look for some further along the coast. Do you feel like taking the launch, Brandon, and trying what you can do?" "I'd enjoy the trip," Dick answered with some hesitation. "But I'd probably have to go beyond Coronal, and it might take a week." "That won't matter; stay as long as it's necessary," Stuyvesant said, for he had noticed a slackness in Dick's movements and his tired look. "Things are going pretty well just now, and you have stuck close to your work. The change will brace you up. Anyhow, I want fresh boys and Bethune's needed here, but you can take Jake along if you want company." Jake declared that he would go, but Dick agreed with reluctance. He felt jaded and depressed, for the double strain he had borne was beginning to tell. His work, carried on in scorching heat, demanded continuous effort, and when it stopped at night he had private troubles to grapple with. Though he had been half-prepared for Clare's refusal, it had hit him hard, and he could find no means of exposing Kenwardine's plots without involving her in his ruin. It would be a relief to get away, but he might be needed at Santa Brigida. Bethune began to talk about the alterations a contractor wished to make, and by and by there was a patter of feet and a hum of voices in the dark. The voices grew louder and sounded angry as the steps approached the house, and Stuyvesant pushed back his chair. "It's Jose's or Pancho's breeds come to claim that their time is wrong. I suppose one couldn't expect that kind of crowd to understand figures, but although François' accounts are seldom very plain, he's not a grafter." Then a native servant entered hurriedly. "They all come, señor," he announced. "Pig tief say Fransoy rob him and he go casser office window." He turned and waved his hand threateningly as a big man in ragged white clothes came into the light. "_Fuera, puerco ladron!_" The man took off a large palm-leaf hat and flourished it with ironical courtesy. "Here is gran escandolo, señores. _La belle chose, verdad!_ Me I have trent' dollar; the grand tief me pay----" Stuyvesant signed to the servant. "Take them round to the back corral; we can't have them on the veranda." Then he turned to Dick. "You and Bethune must convince them that the time-sheets are right; you know more about the thing than I do. Haven't you been helping François, Fuller?" "I'm not a linguist," Jake answered with a grin. "When they talk French and Spanish at once it knocks me right off my height, as François sometimes declares." They all went round to the back of the house, where Bethune and Dick argued with the men. The latter had been dismissed and while ready to go wanted a grievance, though some honestly failed to understand the deductions from their wages. They had drawn small sums in advance, taken goods out of store, and laid off now and then on an unusually hot day, but the amount charged against them was larger than they thought. For all that, Bethune using patience and firmness pacified them, and after a time they went away satisfied while the others returned to the veranda. "Arguing in languages you don't know well is thirsty work, and we'd better have a drink," Bethune remarked. He pushed the carafe across the table, but Dick picked up his glass, which he had left about half full. He was hot and it was a light Spanish wine that one could drink freely, but when he had tasted it he emptied what was left over the veranda rails. Bethune looked surprised, but laughed. "The wine isn't very good, but the others seem able to stand for it. I once laid out a mine ditch in a neighborhood where you'd have wanted some courage to throw away a drink the boys had given you." "It was very bad manners," Dick answered awkwardly. "Still, I didn't like the taste----" He stopped, noticing that Jake gave him a keen glance, but Stuyvesant filled his glass and drank. "What's the matter with the wine?" he asked. Dick hesitated. He wanted to let the matter drop, but he had treated Bethune rudely and saw that the others were curious. "It didn't taste as it did when I left it. Of course this may have been imagination." "But you don't think so?" Stuyvesant rejoined. "In fact, you suspect the wine was doped after we went out?" "No," said Dick with a puzzled frown; "I imagine any doping stuff would make it sour. The curious thing is that it tasted better than usual but stronger." Stuyvesant picked up the glass and smelt it, for a little of the liquor remained in the bottom. "It's a pity you threw it out, because there's a scent mine hasn't got. Like bad brandy or what the Spaniards call _madre de vino_ and use for bringing light wine up to strength." Then Bethune took the glass from him and drained the last drops. "I think it _is madre de vino_. Pretty heady stuff and that glass would hold a lot." Stuyvesant nodded, for it was not a wineglass but a small tumbler. "Doping's not an unusual trick, but I can't see why anybody should want to make Brandon _drunk_." "It isn't very plain and I may have made a fuss about nothing," Dick replied, and began to talk about something else with Jake's support. The others indulged them, and after a time the party broke up. The moon had risen when Dick and Jake walked back along the dam, but the latter stopped when they reached the gap. "We'll climb down and cross by the sluice instead of the pipe," he said. "Why?" Dick asked. "The light is better than when we came." Jake gave him a curious look. "Your nerve's pretty good, but do you want to defy your enemies and show them you have found out their trick?" "But I haven't found it out; that is, I don't know the object of it yet." "Well," said Jake rather grimly, "what do you think would happen if a drunken man tried to walk along that pipe?" Then a light dawned on Dick and he sat down, feeling limp. He was abstemious, and a large dose of strong spirit would, no doubt, have unsteadied him. His companions would notice this, but with the obstinacy that often marks a half-drunk man he would probably have insisted on trying to cross the pipe. Then a slip or hesitation would have precipitated him upon the unfinished ironwork below, and since an obvious explanation of his fall had been supplied, nobody's suspicions would have been aroused. The subtlety of the plot was unnerving. Somebody who knew all about him had chosen the moment well. "It's so devilishly clever!" he said with hoarse anger after a moment or two. Jake nodded. "They're smart. They knew the boys were coming to make a row and Stuyvesant wouldn't have them on the veranda. Then the wine was on the table, and anybody who'd noticed where we sat could tell your glass. It would have been easy to creep up to the shack before the moon rose." "Who are _they_?" "If I knew, I could tell you what to do about it, but I don't. It's possible there was only one man, but if so, he's dangerous. Anyhow, it's obvious that Kenwardine has no part in the matter." "He's not in this," Dick agreed. "Have you a cigarette? I think I'd like a smoke. It doesn't follow that I'd have been killed, if I had fallen." "Then you'd certainly have got hurt enough to keep you quiet for some time, which would probably satisfy the other fellow. But I don't think we'll stop here talking; there may be somebody about." They climbed down by the foot of the tower and crossing the sluice went up the ladder. When they reached their shack Dick sat down and lighted the cigarette Jake had given him, but he said nothing and his face was sternly set. Soon afterwards he went to bed. CHAPTER XXVI THE LINER'S FATE Next morning Dick reviewed the situation as he ate his breakfast in the fresh coolness before the sun got up. He had got a shock, but he was young and soon recovered. His anger against the unknown plotter remained fierce, but this was, in a sense, a private grievance, by which he must not be unduly influenced. It was plain that he was thought dangerous, which showed that he was following the right clue, and he had determined that the raiding of ships belonging to Britain or her allies must be stopped. Since he had gone to the representative of British authority and had been rebuffed, he meant to get Fuller to see if American suspicions could be easier aroused, but he must first make sure of his ground. In the meantime, Don Sebastian had asked his help and he had given a conditional promise. Dick decided that he had taken the proper course. Don Sebastian held Kenwardine accountable and meant to expose him. This was painful to contemplate for Clare's sake, but Dick admitted that he could not shield Kenwardine at his country's expense. Still, the matter was horribly complicated. If Kenwardine was ruined or imprisoned, a serious obstacle in Dick's way would be removed, but it was unthinkable that this should be allowed to count when Clare must suffer. Besides, she might come to hate him if she learned that he was responsible for her father's troubles. But he would make the liner's fate a test. If the vessel arrived safe, Kenwardine should go free until his guilt was certain; if she were sunk or chased, he would help Don Sebastian in every way he could. For three or four days he heard nothing about her, and then, one hot morning, when Stuyvesant and Bethune stood at the foot of the tower by the sluice examining some plans, Jake crossed the pipe with a newspaper in his hand. "The _Diario_ has just arrived," he said. "I haven't tried to read it yet, but the liner has been attacked." Dick, who was superintending the building of the sluice, hastily scrambled up the bank, and Stuyvesant, taking the newspaper, sat down in the shade of the tower. He knew more Castilian than the others, who gathered round him as he translated. The liner, the account stated, had the coast in sight shortly before dark and was steaming along it when a large, black funnel steamer appeared from behind a point. The captain at once swung his vessel round and the stranger fired a shot, of which he took no notice. It was blowing fresh, the light would soon fade, and there was a group of reefs, which he knew well, not far away. The raider gained a little during the next hour and fired several shots. Two of the shells burst on board, killing a seaman and wounding some passengers, but the captain held on. When it was getting dark the reefs lay close ahead, with the sea breaking heavily on their outer edge, but he steamed boldly for an intricate, unmarked channel between them and the land. In altering his course, he exposed the vessel's broadside to the enemy and a shot smashed the pilot-house, but they steered her in with the hand-gear. The pursuer then sheered off, but it got very dark and the vessel grounded in a position where the reef gave some shelter. Nothing could be done until morning, but as day broke the raider reappeared and had fired a shot across the reef when a gunboat belonging to the state in whose territorial waters the steamer lay came upon the scene. She steamed towards the raider, which made off at full speed. Then the gunboat took the liner's passengers on board, and it was hoped that the vessel could be re-floated. "A clear story, told by a French or Spanish sailor who'd taken a passage on the ship," Bethune remarked. "It certainly didn't come from one of the British crew." "Why?" Jake asked. Bethune smiled. "A seaman who tells the truth about anything startling that happens on board a passenger boat gets fired. The convention is to wrap the thing in mystery, if it can't be denied. Besides, the ability to take what you might call a quick, bird's-eye view isn't a British gift; an Englishman would have concentrated on some particular point. Anyhow, I can't see how the boat came to be where she was at the time mentioned." He turned to Dick and asked: "Do you know, Brandon?" "No," said Dick, shortly, "not altogether." "Well," resumed Bethune, "I've seen the antiquated gunboat that came to the rescue, and it's amusing to think of her steaming up to the big auxiliary cruiser. It's doubtful if they've got ammunition that would go off in their footy little guns, though I expect the gang of half-breed cut-throats would put up a good fight. They have pluck enough, and the country they belong to can stand upon her dignity." "She knows where to look for support," Stuyvesant remarked. "If the other party goes much farther, she'll get a sharp snub up. What's your idea of the situation?" "Something like yours. We can't allow the black eagle to find an eyrie in this part of the world, but just now our Western bird's talons are blunt. She hasn't been rending the innocents like the other, but one or two of our former leaders are anxious to put her into fighting trim, and I dare say something of the kind will be done. However, Brandon hasn't taken much part in this conversation. I guess he's thinking about his work!" Dick, who had been sitting quiet with a thoughtful face, got up. "I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes, Stuyvesant." "Very well," said the other, who turned to Bethune and Jake. "I don't want to play the domineering boss, but we're not paid to sit here and fix up international politics." They went away and Stuyvesant looked at Dick who said, "I ought to start in the launch to-morrow to get the laborers you want, but I can't go." "Why?" Dick hesitated. "The fact is I've something else to do." "Ah!" said Stuyvesant. "I think the understanding was that Fuller bought all your time." "He did. I'm sorry, but----" "But if I insist on your going down the coast, you'll break your agreement." "Yes," said Dick with embarrassment. "It comes to that." Stuyvesant looked hard at him. "You must recognize that this is a pretty good job, and you're not likely to get another without Fuller's recommendation. Then I understand you were up against it badly when he first got hold of you. You're young and ought to be ambitious, and you have your chance to make your mark right here." "It's all true," Dick answered doggedly. "Still, I can't go." "Then it must be something very important that makes you willing to throw up your job." Dick did not answer and, to his surprise, Stuyvesant smiled as he resumed: "It's England first, with you?" "How did you guess? How much do you know?" Dick asked sharply. "I don't know very much. Your throwing out the wine gave me a hint, because it was obvious that somebody had been getting after you before, and there were other matters. But you're rather young and I suspect you're up against a big thing." "I'm afraid I can't tell you about it yet, if that is what you mean." "Very well. Stay here, as usual, if you like, or if you want a week off, take it. I'll find a suitable reason for not sending you in the launch." "Thanks!" said Dick, with keen gratitude, and Stuyvesant, who nodded pleasantly, went away. Dick sent a note to Don Sebastian by a messenger he could trust, and soon after dark met him, as he appointed, at a wine-shop on the outskirts of the town, where they were shown into a small back room. "I imagine you are now satisfied," the Spaniard said. "The liner has been chased and people on board her have been killed." "I'm ready to do anything that will prevent another raid. To some extent, perhaps, I'm responsible for what has happened; I might have stopped and seen the mate or captain, but then I'd have lost the man I was after. What do you think became of my note?" Don Sebastian looked thoughtful. "The boy may have lost it or shown it to his comrades; they carry a few Spanish stewards for the sake of the foreign passengers, and we both carelessly took too much for granted. We followed the spy we saw without reflecting that there might be another on board. However, this is not important now." "It isn't. But what do you mean to do with Kenwardine?" "You have no cause for troubling yourself on his account." "That's true, in a way," Dick answered, coloring, though his tone was resolute. "He once did me a serious injury, but I don't want him hurt. I mean to stop his plotting if I can, but I'm going no further, whether it's my duty or not." The Spaniard made a sign of comprehension. "Then we need not quarrel about Kenwardine. In fact, the President does not want to arrest him; our policy is to avoid complications and it would satisfy us if he could be forced to leave the country and give up the coaling station." "How will you force him?" "He has been getting letters from Kingston; ordinary, friendly letters from a gentleman whose business seems to be coaling ships. For all that, there is more in them than meets the uninstructed eye." "Have you read his replies?" Don Sebastian shrugged. "What do you expect? They do not tell us much, but it looks as if Señor Kenwardine means to visit Kingston soon." "But it's in Jamaica; British territory." "Just so," said the Spaniard, smiling. "Señor Kenwardine is a bold and clever man. His going to Kingston would have thrown us off the scent if we had not known as much as we do; but it would have been dangerous had he tried to hide it and we had found it out. You see how luck favors us?" "What is your plan?" "We will follow Kenwardine. He will be more or less at our mercy on British soil, and, if it seems needful, there is a charge you can bring against him. He stole some army papers." Dick started. "How did you hear of that?" "Clever men are sometimes incautious, and he once spoke about it to his daughter," Don Sebastian answered with a shrug. "Our antagonists are not the only people who have capable spies." The intrigue and trickery he had become entangled in inspired Dick with disgust, but he admitted that one could not be fastidious in a fight with a man like his antagonist. "Very well," he said, frowning, "I'll go; but it must be understood that when he's beaten you won't decide what's to be done with the man without consulting me." Don Sebastian bowed. "It is agreed. One can trust you to do nothing that would injure your country. But we have some arrangements to make." Shortly afterwards Dick left the wine-shop, and returning to the camp went to see Stuyvesant. "I want to go away in a few days, perhaps for a fortnight, but I'd like it understood that I'd been sent down the coast in the launch," he said. "As a matter of fact, I mean to start in her." "Certainly. Arrange the thing as you like," Stuyvesant agreed. Then he looked at Dick with a twinkle. "You deserve a lay-off and I hope you'll enjoy it." Dick thanked him and went back to his shack, where he found Jake on the verandah. "I may go with the launch, after all, but not to Coronal," he remarked. "Ah!" said Jake, with some dryness. "Then you had better take me; anyhow, I'm coming." "I'd much sooner you didn't." "That doesn't count," Jake replied. "You're getting after somebody, and if you leave me behind, I'll give the plot away. It's easy to send a rumor round the camp." Dick reflected. He saw that Jake meant to come and knew he could be obstinate. Besides, the lad was something of a seaman and would be useful on board the launch, because Dick did not mean to join the steamer Kenwardine traveled by, but to catch another at a port some distance off. "Well," he said, "I suppose I must give in." "You've got to," Jake rejoined, and added in a meaning tone: "You may need a witness if you're after Kenwardine, and I want to be about to see fair play." "Then you trust the fellow yet?" "I don't know," Jake answered thoughtfully. "At first, I thought Kenwardine great, and I like him now. He certainly has charm and you can't believe much against him when he's with you; but it's somehow different at a distance. Still, he knew nothing about the attacks on you. I saw that when I told him about them." "You told him!" Dick exclaimed. "I did. Perhaps it might have been wise----" Jake stopped, for he heard a faint rustle, as if a bush had been shaken, and Dick looked up. The moon had not yet risen, thin mist drifted out of the jungle, and it was very dark. There was some brush in front of the building and a belt of tall grass and reeds grew farther back. Without moving the upper part of his body, he put his foot under the table at which they sat and kicked Jake's leg. "What was that about Adexe?" he asked in a clear voice, and listened hard. He heard nothing then, for Jake took the hint and began to talk about the coaling station, but when the lad stopped there was another rustle, very faint but nearer. Next moment a pistol shot rang out and a puff of acrid smoke drifted into the veranda. Then the brushwood crackled, as if a man had violently plunged through it, and Jake sprang to his feet. "Come on and bring the lamp!" he shouted, running down the steps. Dick followed, but left the lamp alone. He did not know who had fired the shot and it might be imprudent to make himself conspicuous. Jake, who was a few yards in front, boldly took a narrow path through the brush, which rose to their shoulders. The darkness was thickened by the mist, but after a moment or two they heard somebody coming to meet them. It could hardly be an enemy, because the man wore boots and his tread was quick and firm. Dick noted this with some relief, but thought it wise to take precautions. "Hold on, Jake," he said and raised his voice: "Who's that?" "Payne," answered the other, and they waited until he came up. "Now," said Jake rather sharply, "what was the shooting about?" "There was a breed hanging round in the bushes and when he tried to creep up to the veranda I plugged him." "Then where is he?" "That's what I don't know," Payne answered apologetically. "I hit him sure, but it looks as if he'd got away." "It looks as if you'd missed. Where did you shoot from?" Payne beckoned them to follow and presently stopped beside the heap of ironwork a little to one side of the shack. The lighted veranda was in full view of the spot, but there was tall brushwood close by and behind this the grass. "I was here," Payne explained. "Heard something move once or twice, and at last the fellow showed between me and the light. When I saw he was making for the veranda I put up my gun. Knew I had the bead on him when I pulled her off." "Then show us where he was." Payne led them forward until they reached a spot where the brush was broken and bent, and Jake, stooping down, struck a match. "I guess he's right. Look at this," he said with shrinking in his voice. The others saw a red stain on the back of his hand and crimson splashes on the grass. Then Dick took the match and put it out. "The fellow must be found. I'll get two or three of the boys I think we can trust and we'll begin the search at once." He left them and returned presently with the men and two lanterns, but before they set off he asked Payne: "Could you hear what we said on the veranda?" "No. I could tell you were talking, but that was all. Once you kind of raised your voice and I guess the fellow in front heard something, for it was then he got up and tried to crawl close in." "Just so," Dick agreed and looked at Jake as one of the men lighted a lantern. "He was nearer us than Payne. I thought Adexe would draw him." They searched the belt of grass and the edge of the jungle, since, as there were venomous snakes about, it did not seem likely that the fugitive would venture far into the thick, steamy gloom. Then they made a circuit of the camp, stopping wherever a mound of rubbish offered a hiding-place, but the search proved useless until they reached the head of the track. Then an explanation of the man's escape was supplied, for the hand-car, which had stood there an hour ago, had gone. A few strokes of the crank would start it, after which it would run down the incline. "I guess that's how he went," said Payne. Dick nodded. The car would travel smoothly if its speed was controlled, but it would make some noise and he could not remember having heard anything. The peons, however, frequently used the car when they visited their comrades at the mixing sheds, and he supposed the rattle of wheels had grown so familiar that he had not noticed it. "Send the boys away; there's nothing more to be done," he said. They turned back towards the shack, and after a few minutes Jake remarked: "It will be a relief when this business is over. My nerves are getting ragged." CHAPTER XXVII THE SILVER CLASP It was about eleven o'clock on a hot morning and Kenwardine, who had adopted native customs, was leisurely getting his breakfast in the patio. Two or three letters lay among the fruit and wine, but he did not mean to open them yet. He was something of a sybarite and the letters might blunt his enjoyment of the well-served meal. Clare, who had not eaten much, sat opposite, watching him. His pose as he leaned back with a wineglass in his hand was negligently graceful, and his white clothes, drawn in at the waist by a black silk sash, showed his well-knit figure. There were touches of gray in his hair and wrinkles round his eyes, but in spite of this he had a look of careless youth. Clare, however, thought she noticed a hint of preoccupation that she knew and disliked. Presently Kenwardine picked out an envelope with a British stamp from among the rest and turned it over before inserting a knife behind the flap, which yielded easily, as if the gum had lost its strength. Then he took out the letter and smiled with ironical amusement. If it had been read by any unauthorized person before it reached him, the reader would have been much misled, but it told him what he wanted to know. There was one word an Englishman or American would not have used, though a Teuton might have done so, but Kenwardine thought a Spaniard would not notice this, even if he knew English well. The other letters were not important, and he glanced at his daughter. Clare was not wearing well. She had lost her color and got thin. The climate was enervating, and Englishwomen who stayed in the country long felt it more than men, but this did not quite account for her jaded look. "I am afraid you are feeling the hot weather, and perhaps you have been indoors too much," he said. "I must try to take you about more when I come back." "Then you are going away! Where to?" Kenwardine would have preferred to hide his destination, but since this would be difficult it seemed safer not to try and there was no reason why his household should not know. "To Jamaica. I have some business in Kingston, but it won't keep me long." "Can you take me?" "I think not," said Kenwardine, who knew his visit would be attended by some risk. "For one thing, I'll be occupied all the time, and as I must get back as soon as possible, may have to travel by uncomfortable boats. You will be safe with Lucille." "Oh, yes," Clare agreed with languid resignation. "Still, I would have liked a change." Kenwardine showed no sign of yielding and she said nothing more. She had chosen to live with him, and although she had not known all that the choice implied, must obey his wishes. For all that, she longed to get away. It had cost her more than she thought to refuse Dick, and she felt that something mysterious and disturbing was going on. Kenwardine's carelessness had not deceived her; she had watched him when he was off his guard and knew that he was anxious. "You don't like Santa Brigida?" he suggested. "Well, if things go as I hope, I may soon be able to sell out my business interests and leave the country. Would that please you?" Clare's eyes sparkled with satisfaction. Now there was a prospect of its ending, she could allow herself to admit how repugnant the life she led had grown. She had hated the gambling, and although this had stopped, the mystery and hidden intrigue that followed it were worse. If her father gave it all up, they need no longer be outcasts, and she could live as an English girl ought to do. Besides, it would be easier to forget Dick Brandon when she went away. "Would we go back to England?" she asked eagerly. "I hardly think that would be possible," Kenwardine replied. "We might, however, fix upon one of the quieter cities near the Atlantic coast of America. I know two or three that are not too big and are rather old-fashioned, with something of the charm of the Colonial days, where I think you might find friends that would suit your fastidious taste." Clare tried to look content. Of late, she had longed for the peaceful, well-ordered life of the English country towns, but it seemed there was some reason they could not go home. "Any place would be better than Santa Brigida," she said. "But I must leave you to your letters. I am going out to buy some things." The sun was hot when she left the patio, but there was a strip of shade on one side of the street and she kept close to the wall, until turning a corner, she entered a blaze of light. The glare from the pavement and white houses was dazzling and she stopped awkwardly, just in time to avoid collision with a man. He stood still and she looked down as she saw that it was Dick and noted the satisfaction in his eyes. "I'm afraid I wasn't keeping a very good lookout," he said. "You seemed to be in a hurry," Clare rejoined, half hoping he would go on; but as he did not, she resumed: "However, you generally give one the impression of having something important to do." Dick laughed. "That's wrong just now, because I'm killing time. I've an hour to wait before the launch is ready to go to sea." "Then you are sailing somewhere along the coast," said Clare, who moved forward, and Dick taking her permission for granted, turned and walked by her side. "Yes. I left Jake at the mole, putting provisions on board." "It looks as if you would be away some time," Clare remarked carelessly. Dick thought she was not interested and felt relieved. It had been announced at the irrigation camp that he was going to Coronal to engage workmen, in order that the report might reach Kenwardine. He had now an opportunity of sending the latter misleading news, but he could not make use of Clare in this way. "I expect so, but can't tell yet when we will be back," he said. "Well," said Clare, "I shall feel that I am left alone. My father is going to Kingston and doesn't know when he will return. Then you and Mr. Fuller----" She stopped with a touch of embarrassment, wondering whether she had said too much, but Dick looked at her gravely. "Then you will miss us?" "Yes," she admitted with a blush. "I suppose I shall, in a sense. After all, I really know nobody in Santa Brigida; that is, nobody I like. Of course, we haven't seen either of you often, but then----" "You liked to feel we were within call if we were wanted? Well, I wish I could put off our trip, but I'm afraid it's impossible now." "That would be absurd," Clare answered, smiling, and they went on in silence for the next few minutes. She felt that she had shown her feelings with raw candor, and the worst was that Dick was right. Though he thought she had robbed him, and was somehow her father's enemy, she did like to know he was near. Then there had been something curious in his tone and he had asked her nothing about her father's voyage. Indeed, it looked as if he meant to avoid the subject, although politeness demanded some remark. "I am going shopping at the Almacen Morales," she said by and by, giving him an excuse to leave her if he wished. "Then, if you don't mind, I'll come too. It will be out of this blazing sun, and there are a few things Jake told me to get." It was a relief to enter the big, cool, general store, but when Clare went to the dry-goods counter Dick turned aside to make his purchases. After this, he strolled about, examining specimens of native feather-work, and was presently seized by an inspiration as he stopped beside some Spanish lace. Clare ought to wear fine lace. The intricate, gauzy web would harmonize with her delicate beauty, but the trouble was that he was no judge of the material. A little farther on, a case of silver filigree caught his eye and he turned over some of the articles. This was work he knew more about, and it was almost as light and fine as the lace. The design was good and marked by a fantastic Eastern grace, for it had come from the Canaries and the Moors had taught the Spaniards how to make it long ago. After some deliberation, Dick chose a belt-clasp in a box by itself, and the girl who had been waiting on him called a clerk. "You have a good eye, señor," the man remarked. "The clasp was meant for a sample and not for sale." "Making things is my business and I know when they're made well," Dick answered modestly. "Anyhow, I want the clasp." The clerk said they would let him have it because he sometimes bought supplies for the camp, and Dick put the case in his pocket. Then he waited until Clare was ready and left the store with her. He had bought the clasp on an impulse, but now feared that she might not accept his gift. After a time, he took it out. "This caught my eye and I thought you might wear it," he said with diffidence. Clare took the open case, for at first the beauty of the pattern seized her attention. Then she hesitated and turned to him with some color in her face. "It is very pretty, but why do you want to give it to me?" "To begin with, the thing has an airy lightness that ought to suit you. Then you took care of me and we were very good friends when I was ill. I'd like to feel I'd given you something that might remind you of this. Besides, you see, I'm going away----" "But you are coming back." "Yes; but things might happen in the meantime." "What kind of things?" Clare asked in vague alarm. "I don't know," Dick said awkwardly. "Still, disturbing things do happen. Anyhow won't you take the clasp?" Clare stood irresolute with the case in her hand. It was strange, and to some extent embarrassing that Dick should insist upon making her the present. He had humiliated her and it was impossible that she could marry him, but there was an appeal in his eyes that was hard to deny. Besides, the clasp was beautiful and he had shown nice taste in choosing it for her. "Very well," she said gently. "I will keep it and wear it now and then." Dick made a sign of gratitude and they went on, but Clare stopped at the next corner and held out her hand. "I must not take you any farther," she said firmly. "I wish you a good voyage." She went into a shop and Dick turned back to the harbor where he boarded the launch. The boat was loaded deep with coal, the fireman was busy, and soon after the provisions Dick had bought arrived, steam was up. He took the helm, the engine began to throb, and they glided through the cool shadow along the mole. When they met the smooth swell at the harbor mouth the sea blazed with reflected light, and Dick was glad to fix his eyes upon the little compass in the shade of the awning astern. The boat lurched away across the long undulations, with the foam curling up about her bow and rising aft in a white following wave. "I thought of leaving the last few bags of coal," Jake remarked. "There's not much life in her and we take some chances of being washed off if she meets a breaking sea." "It's a long run and we'll soon burn down the coal, particularly as we'll have to drive her hard to catch the Danish boat," Dick replied. "If we can do that, we'll get Kenwardine's steamer at her last port of call. It's lucky she isn't going direct to Kingston." "You have cut things rather fine, but I suppose you worked it out from the sailing lists. The worst is that following the coast like this takes us off our course." Dick nodded. After making some calculations with Don Sebastian's help, he had found it would be possible to catch a small Danish steamer that would take them to a port at which Kenwardine's boat would arrive shortly afterwards. But since it had been given out that he was going to Coronal, he must keep near the coast until he passed Adexe. This was necessary, because Kenwardine would not risk a visit to Jamaica, which was British territory, if he thought he was being followed. "We'll make it all right if the weather keeps fine," he answered. They passed Adexe in the afternoon and boldly turned seawards across a wide bay. At sunset the coast showed faintly in the distance, obscured by the evening mist, and the land breeze began to blow. It was hot and filled with strange, sour and spicy smells, and stirred the sea into short, white ripples that rapidly got larger. They washed across the boat's half-immersed stern and now and then splashed on board at her waist; but Dick kept the engine going full speed and sat at the tiller with his eyes fixed upon the compass. It was not easy to steer by, because the lurching boat was short and the card span in erratic jerks when she began to yaw about, swerving off her course as she rose with the seas. The night got very dark, for the land-breeze brought off a haze, but the engine lamp and glow from the furnace door threw an elusive glimmer about the craft. White sea-crests chased and caught her up, and rolling forward broke between the funnel and the bows. Water splashed on board, the engine hissed as the spray fell on it, and the floorings got wet. One could see the foam on deck wash about the headledge forward as the bows went up with a sluggishness that was the consequence of carrying an extra load of coal. The fireman could not steer by compass, and after a time Jake took the helm from his tired companion. Dick lay down under the side deck, from which showers of brine poured close beside his head, but did not go to sleep. He was thinking of Clare and what he must do when he met her father. It was important that they should catch Kenwardine's boat, since he must not be allowed to land and finish his business before they arrived. In the meanwhile, he listened to the measured clank of the engine, which quickened when the top blade of the screw swung out. So long as she did not lift the others she would travel well, but by and by he heard a splash in the crank-pit and called to the fireman, who started the pump. Day broke in a blaze of fiery splendor, and the dripping launch dried. The coast was near, the sea got smooth, and the tired men were glad of the heat of the red sun. By and by the breeze died away, and the long swell heaved in a glassy calm, glittering with silver and vivid blue. When their clothes were dry they loosed and spread the awning, and a pungent smell of olive oil and coffee floated about the boat as the fireman cooked breakfast. After they had eaten, Dick moved a bag or two of coal to trim the craft and sounded the tank, because a high-pressure engine uses a large quantity of fresh water. Then he unrolled a chart and measured the distance to their port while Jake looked over his shoulder. "We ought to be in time," he said. "The advertisement merely stated that the boat would sail to-day, but as she didn't leave the last port until yesterday and she'd have some cargo to ship, it's unlikely that she'll clear before noon." "It might have been safer to telegraph, booking two berths. These little boats don't often miss a chance of picking up a few dollars, and the skipper would have waited." "I thought about that; but the telegram would have shown what we were after if Kenwardine has bribed somebody in the office, which is possible." "You seem convinced he has had an important part in these attacks on merchant ships," Jake said thoughtfully. "It's hard to doubt." "The man's by way of being a friend of mine and took you into his house when you were in some danger of bleeding to death. I'm not sure that he's guilty, and now I've come with you, am going to see he gets fair play; but if you can prove your charge, you may do what you like with him. I think we'll let it go at that." Dick nodded. "In the first place, we must make our port, and it's lucky we'll have smooth water until the sea breeze gets up." Telling the fireman he could go to sleep, he moved about the engine with an oilcan and afterwards cleaned the fire. Then he lay on the counter with his hand on the helm while the launch sped across the glassy sea, leaving a long wake astern. The high coast ahead got clearer, but after a time dark-blue lines began to streak the glistening water and puffs of wind fanned the men's faces. The puffs were gratefully fresh and the heat felt intolerable when they passed, but by and by they settled into a steady draught and the dark lines joined, until the sea was all a glowing ultramarine. Then small ripples splashed about the launch and Dick glanced ahead. "She's steaming well," he said as he listened to the steady snort of the exhaust and humming of the cranks. "It's lucky, because there's some weight in the wind." Some hours later, when the sea was flecked with white, they closed with a strip of gray-green forest that seemed to run out into the water. The launch rolled and lurched as the foam-tipped combers hove her up and the awning flapped savagely in the whistling breeze. Away on the horizon, there was a dingy trail of smoke. Presently Jake stood up on deck, and watched the masts that rose above the fringe of trees. "There's a black-top funnel like the Danish boat's, and a flag with red and white on it, but it's hanging limp. They don't feel the breeze inside." He jumped down as Dick changed his course, and they passed a spit of surf-washed sand, rounded the last clump of trees, and opened up the harbor mouth. The sunshine fell upon a glaring white and yellow town, and oily water glittered between the wharf and the dark hulls of anchored vessels, but Dick suddenly set his lips. He knew the Danish boat, and she was not there. "She's gone," said Jake with a hint of relief in his voice. "That was her smoke on the skyline." CHAPTER XXVIII ROUGH WATER As soon as they entered port, Dick and Jake went to the office of a Spanish shipbroker, who offered them his polite sympathy. "We had very little cargo here, and when he heard there was some dyewood at San Ignacio the captain steamed off again," he explained. "What sort of a port is San Ignacio, and how far is it?" Dick asked. "It is an _aldea_ on the shore of a lagoon, with a wharf that small boats can reach, about forty miles from here." "Then they take the dyewood off in boats? If there is much of the stuff, it would be a long job." "That is so, señor. The boats can only reach the wharf when the tide is high. At other times, the cargo must be carried down through the mud." "Have you a large chart of this coast?" The broker brought a chart and Dick studied it for some minutes, making notes in his pocket-book. Then he looked up. "Where can I get fresh water?" The broker asked how much he wanted and after taking some paper money gave him a ticket. "There is a pipe on the wharf and when the peon sees the receipt he will fill your tanks." Dick thanked him and going out with Jake found their fireman asleep in a wine-shop. They had some trouble in wakening the man and after sending him off to get the water, ordered some wine. The room was dirty and filled with flies, but the lattice shutters kept out the heat and they found the shadow pleasant after the glare outside. Jake dropped into a cane chair with a sigh of content. He felt cramped and stiff after the long journey in the narrow cockpit of the plunging launch, and was sensible of an enjoyable lassitude. It would be delightful to lounge about in the shade after refreshing himself with two or three cool drinks, but he had misgivings that this was not what Dick meant to do. When he had drained a large glass of light, sweet wine, he felt peacefully at ease, and resting his head on the chair-back closed his eyes. After this he was conscious of nothing until Dick said: "It's not worth while to go to sleep." "Not worth while?" Jake grumbled drowsily. "I was awake all last night. It's quiet and cool here and I can't stand for being broiled outside." "I'm afraid you'll have to. We start as soon as Maccario has filled the tank." Jake roused himself with a jerk. Dick leaned forward wearily with his elbow on the table, but he looked resolute. "Then you haven't let up yet? You're going on to the lagoon?" "Certainly," said Dick. "The Danish boat has an hour's start, but she only steams eight or nine knots and it will take some time to load her cargo." "But we can't drive the launch hard. The breeze is knocking up the sea." "We'll try," Dick answered, and Jake growled in protest. His dream of rest and sleep, and perhaps some mildly exciting adventure when the citizens came out in the cool of the evening, had been rudely banished. Moreover, he had had another reason for being philosophical when he thought his comrade baulked. "It's a fool trick. She won't make it if the sea gets bad." Dick smiled dryly. "We can turn back if we find her getting swamped. It looks as if you were not very anxious to overtake Kenwardine." "I'm not," Jake admitted. "If you're determined to go, I'm coming, but I'd be glad of a good excuse for letting the matter drop." Somewhat to his surprise, Dick gave him a sympathetic nod. "I know; I've felt like that, but the thing can't be dropped. It's a hateful job, but it must be finished now." "Very well," Jake answered, getting up. "If we must go, the sooner we start the better." The launch looked very small and dirty when they looked down on her from the wharf, and Jake noted how the surf broke upon the end of the sheltering point. Its deep throbbing roar warned him what they might expect when they reached open water, but he went down the steps and helped Dick to tighten some bearing brasses, after which a peon threw down their ropes and the screw began to rattle. With a few puffs of steam from her funnel the launch moved away and presently met the broken swell at the harbor mouth. Then her easy motion changed to a drunken lurch and Jake gazed with misgivings at the white-topped seas ahead. She went through the first comber's crest with her forefoot in the air and the foam washing deep along the tilted deck, while the counter vanished in a white upheaval. Then it swung up in turn, and frames and planking shook as the engine ran away. This happened at short intervals as she fought her way to windward in erratic jerks, while showers of spray and cinders blew aft into the face of her crew. Dick drove her out until the sea got longer and more regular, when he turned and followed the coast, but the flashing blue and white rollers were now on her beam and flung her to lee as they passed. Sometimes one washed across her low counter, and sometimes her forward half was buried in a tumultuous rush of foam. The pump was soon started and they kept it going, but the water gathered in the crank-pit, where it was churned into lather, and Jake and Maccario relieved each other at helping the pump with a bucket. They were drenched and half blinded by the spray, but it was obvious that their labor was needed and they persevered. Stopping for breath now and then, with his back to the wind, Jake glanced at the coast as the boat swung up with a sea. It made a hazy blur against the brilliant sky, but his eyes were smarting and dazzled. There was a confusing glitter all around him, and even the blue hollows they plunged into were filled with a luminous glow. Still he thought they made progress, though the launch was drifting to leeward fast, and he told Dick, who headed her out a point or two. "This is not the usual sea breeze; it's blowing really fresh," he said. "Do you think it will drop at sundown?" "I'm not sure," Dick replied, shading his eyes as he glanced at the windward horizon. "Then suppose it doesn't drop?" "If the sea gets dangerous, we'll put the helm up and run for shelter." "Where do you expect to find it?" "I don't know," Dick admitted. "There are reefs and shoals along the coast that we might get in behind." Jake laughed. "Well, I guess this is a pretty rash adventure. You won't turn back while you can see, and there are safer things than running for a shoal you don't know, in the dark. However, there's a point one might get a bearing from abeam and I'll try to fix our position. It might be useful later." Stooping beside the compass, he gazed at the hazy land across its card, and then crept under the narrow foredeck with a chart. He felt the bows sweep upwards, pause for a moment, and suddenly lurch down, but now the sea was long and regular, the motion was rhythmic. Besides, the thud and gurgle of water outside the boat's thin planks were soothing and harmonized with the measured beat of the screw. Jake got drowsy and although he had meant to take another bearing when he thought he could double the angle, presently fell asleep. It was getting dark when he awoke and crept into the cockpit. There was a change in the motion, for the launch did not roll so much and the combers no longer broke in showers of spray against her side. She swung up with a swift but easy lift, the foam boiling high about her rail, and then gently slid down into the trough. It was plain that she was running before the wind, but Jake felt that he must pull himself together when he looked aft, for there is something strangely daunting in a big following sea. A high, white-topped ridge rolled up behind the craft, roaring as it chased her, while a stream of spray blew from its curling crest. It hid the rollers that came behind; there was nothing to be seen but a hill of water, and Jake found it a relief to fix his eyes ahead. The backs of the seas were smoother and less disturbing to watch as they faded into the gathering dark. When the comber passed, he turned to Dick, who stood, alert and highly strung, at the helm. "You're heading for the land," he said. "What are you steering by?" "I got the bearing of a point I thought I recognized on the chart before I lost sight of the coast. There's a long reef outshore of it, with a break near the point. If we can get through, we might find shelter." "Suppose there's something wrong with your bearing, or you can't make good your course?" "Then there'll be trouble," Dick answered grimly. "We'll have the reef to lee and she won't steam out again." Jake put a kettle on the cylinder-top and took some provisions from a locker. He was hungry and thought he might need all the strength he had, while he did not want to look at the sea. The pump was clanking hard, but he could hear the water wash about under the floorings, and the launch was very wet. Darkness fell as he prepared a meal with the fireman's help, and they ate by the dim light of the engine-lamp, while Dick, to whom they handed portions, crouched at the helm, gazing close into the illuminated compass. Sometimes he missed the food they held out and it dropped and was washed into the pump-well, but he ate what he could without moving his eyes. Since he must find the opening in the reef, much depended on his steering an accurate course, but this was difficult, because he had to bear away before the largest combers. Moreover, the erratic motion of a short boat in broken water keeps the compass-card rocking to and fro, and long practise is needed to hit the mean of its oscillations. As a matter of fact, Dick knew he was leaving much to luck. After a time, they heard a hoarse roar. Since the sound would not carry far to windward, they knew the reef was close ahead, but where the opening lay was another matter. Dick had no guide except the compass, and as the launch would probably swamp if he tried to bring her round head to sea, he must run on and take the risk. By and by, Jake, straining his eyes to pierce the gloom, called out as he saw a ghostly white glimmer to starboard. This was the surf spouting on the reef and if it marked the edge of the channel, they would be safe in going to port; if not, the launch would very shortly be hurled upon the barrier. Dick stood up and gazed ahead. The white patch was getting plainer, but he could see nothing else. There was, however, a difference in the motion, and the sea was confused. He ordered the engine to be slowed, and they ran on until the belt of foam bore abeam. They must be almost upon the reef now, or else in the channel, and for the next minute or two nobody spoke. If they had missed the gap, the first warning would be a shock, and then the combers that rolled up behind them would destroy the stranded craft. She did not strike; the surf was level with her quarter, and Jake, thrusting down a long boathook, found no bottom. In another minute or two the water suddenly got smooth, and he threw down the boathook. "We're through," he said in a strained voice. "The reef's astern." "Try the hand-lead," Dick ordered him, as he changed his course, since he was apparently heading for the beach. Jake got four fathoms and soon afterwards eighteen feet, when Dick stopped the engine and the launch rolled upon the broken swell. A dark streak that looked like forest indicated the land, and a line of foam that glimmered with phosphorescent light ran outshore of them. Now they were to lee of the reef, the hoarse clamor of the surf rang about the boat. Unfolding the chart, they studied it by the engine-lamp. It was on too small a scale to give many details, but they saw that the reef ran roughly level with the coast and ended in a nest of shoals near a point. "We could ride out a gale here," Jake remarked. "We could, if we wanted," Dick replied. Jake looked at him rather hard and then made a sign of resignation. "Well, I guess I've had enough, but if you're going on---- How do you reckon you'll get through the shoals ahead?" "I imagine some of them are mangrove islands, and if so, there'll be a channel of a sort between them. In fact, the chart the broker showed me indicated something of the kind. With good luck we may find it." "Very well," said Jake. "I'm glad to think it will be a soft bottom if we run aground." They went on, keeping, so far as they could judge, midway between reef and beach, but after a time the lead showed shoaling water and Jake used the boathook instead. Then the sky cleared and a half-moon came out, and they saw haze and the loom of trees outshore of them. Slowing the engine, they moved on cautiously while the water gradually got shallower, until glistening banks of mud began to break the surface. Then they stopped the engine, but found the launch still moved forward. "I imagine it's about four hours' flood," Dick remarked. "That means the water will rise for some time yet, and although the current's with us now I think we can't be far off the meeting of the tides." Jake nodded. In places of the kind, the stream often runs in from both ends until it joins and flows in one direction from the shoalest spot. "Then we ought to find a channel leading out on the other side." They let the engine run for a few minutes until the boat touched bottom and stuck fast in the mud. The wind seemed to be falling and the roar of the surf had got fainter. Thin haze dimmed the moonlight and there were strange splashings in the water that gently lapped about the belts of mud. The stream stopped running, but seeing no passage they waited and smoked. "If we can get out on the other side, we oughtn't to be very far from the lagoon," Jake suggested. Presently there was a faint rippling against the bows and the launch began to swing round. "The tide's coming through from the other end," said Dick. "We may find a channel if we can push her across the mud." For half an hour they laboriously poled her with a long oar and the boathook between the banks of mire. Sometimes she touched and stuck until the rising water floated her off, and sometimes she scraped along the bottom, but still made progress. They were breathless and soaked with perspiration, while the foul scum that ran off the oar stained their damp clothes. Then Jake's boathook sank a foot or two deeper and finding the depth as good after a few vigorous pushes, they started the engine. Sour exhalations rose from the wake of the churning screw and there was a curious dragging feel in the boat's motion, as if she were pulling a body of water after her, but this was less marked when Jake found three or four feet, and by and by he threw down the pole and they went half-speed ahead. After a time, the mangroves outshore got farther off, the air smelt fresher, and small ripples broke the surface of the widening channel. They went full-speed, the trees faded, and a swell that set her rocking met the boat, although there still seemed to be a barrier of sand or mud between her and open sea. Giving Jake the helm, Dick crawled under the foredeck, where the floorings were drier than anywhere else, and lay smoking and thinking until day broke. The light, which grew brighter rapidly, showed a glistening line of surf to seaward and mangrove forest on a point ahead. Beyond this there seemed to be an inlet, and then the shore curved out again. As they passed the point Dick stood up on deck and presently saw two tall spars rise above the mist. A few minutes later, the top of a funnel appeared, and then a sharp metallic rattle rang through the haze. "We're in the lagoon," he said. "That's the Danish boat and she hasn't finished heaving cargo on board." CHAPTER XXIX KENWARDINE TAKES A RISK Shortly after the launch entered the lagoon, the Danish boat hove her anchor and steamed out to sea. Dick, who had engaged a half-breed pilot to take the launch home, lounged in a canvas chair under the poop awning. His eyes were half closed, for the white boats and deckhouses flashed dazzlingly in the strong light as the steamer lurched across the vivid swell of the Caribbean. The cigarette he languidly held had gone out, and his pose was slack. He was physically tired and his brain was dull, but he was conscious of lethargic satisfaction. For a long time he had been torn between his love for Clare and his duty to his country. His difficulties were further complicated by doubts of Kenwardine's guilt, but recent events had cleared these up. It was, on the whole, a relief to feel that he must now go forward and there need be no more hesitation and balancing of probabilities. The time for that had gone and his course was plain. He must confront Kenwardine with a concise statement of his share in the plot and force from him an undertaking that he would abandon his traitorous work. This might be difficult, but Dick did not think he would fail. Don Sebastian, who perhaps knew more than he did, was to meet him at a Cuban port, and the Spaniard could be trusted to handle the matter with skill. There was no direct communication between Santa Brigida and Kingston, but steamers touched at the latter place when making a round of other ports, which would enable Dick and his ally to join Kenwardine's boat at her last call. If either of them had gone on board at Santa Brigida, Kenwardine would have left the ship at the next port. Since he had sailed on an English steamer, bound for British territory, he would be subject to British law when they met, and they could, if needful, have him arrested. Dick admitted that this ought to be done to begin with, but had not decided about it yet. He would wait and be guided by events. The British officials might doubt his story and decline to interfere, but Kenwardine could not count on that, because Don Sebastian was armed with credentials from the President of a friendly state. Dick, however, dismissed the matter. He was tired in mind and body, and did not mean to think of anything important until he met Kenwardine. By and by his head grew heavy, and resting it on the back of his chair, he closed his eyes. When Jake came up, followed by a steward carrying two tall glasses of frothing liquor, he saw that his comrade was fast asleep. "You can put them down," he told the steward. "I'm thirsty enough to empty both, but you can bring some more along when my partner wakes." After this he took a black seaman, who was making some noise as he swept the poop, by the arm and firmly led him to the other side of the deck. Then he drained the glasses with a sigh of satisfaction, and lighting a cigarette, sat down near Dick's feet. He did not mean to sleep, but when he got up with a jerk as the lunch bell rang he saw Dick smiling. "Have I been sitting there all this time?" he asked. "No," said Dick. "You were lying flat on deck when I woke up an hour ago." Then he indicated the two glasses, which had rolled into the scupper channel. "I shouldn't be surprised if those accounted for it." "Perhaps they did," Jake owned, grinning. "Anyhow, we'll have some more, with a lump of ice in it, before we go down to lunch." The Danish boat met fine weather as she leisurely made her way across the Caribbean, and after an uneventful voyage, Dick and Jake landed at a port in Cuba. The British steamer from Santa Brigida had not arrived, but the agent expected her in the evening, and they found Don Sebastian waiting them at a hotel he had named. When it was getting dark they walked to the end of the harbor mole and sat down to watch for the vessel. Rows of the lights began to twinkle, one behind the other, at the head of the bay, and music drifted across the water. A bright glow marked the plaza, where a band was playing, but the harbor was dark except for the glimmer of anchor-lights on the oily swell. The occasional rattle of a winch, jarring harshly on the music, told that the Danish boat was working cargo. A faint, warm breeze blew off the land, and there was a flicker of green and blue phosphorescence as the sea washed about the end of the mole. "I wonder how you'll feel if Kenwardine doesn't come," Jake said presently, looking at Dick, who did not answer. "He will come," Don Sebastian rejoined with quiet confidence. "Well, I guess he must know he's doing a dangerous thing." "Señor Kenwardine does know, but he plays for high stakes and takes the risks of the game. If it had not been necessary, he would not have ventured on British soil, but since he was forced to go, he thought the boldest plan the safest. This is what one would expect, because the man is brave. He could not tell how far my suspicions went and how much Señor Brandon knew, but saw that he was watched and if he tried to hide his movements he would betray himself. It was wiser to act as if he had nothing to fear." "As he was forced to go, his business must be important," Dick said thoughtfully. "This means he must be dealt with before he lands at Kingston. If we allowed him to meet his confederates there, the mischief would be done, and it might be too late afterwards to stop them carrying out their plans." Don Sebastian gave him a quiet smile. "One might learn who his confederates are if he met them. It looks as if you would sooner deal with our friend on board." "I would," Dick said steadily. "His plotting must be stopped, but I'm inclined to think I'd be content with that." "And you?" the Spaniard asked, turning to Jake. "I don't know that Kenwardine is in the worst of the plot. He was a friend of mine and it's your business to prove him guilty. I mean to reserve my opinion until you make your charges good." "Very well," said Don Sebastian. "We'll be guided by what happens when we see him." They let the matter drop, and half an hour later a white light and a green light crept out of the dark to seawards, and a faint throbbing grew into the measured beat of a steamer's screw. Then a low, shadowy hull, outlined by a glimmer of phosphorescence, came on towards the harbor mouth, and a rocket swept up in a fiery curve and burst, dropping colored lights. A harsh rattle of running chain broke out, the screw splashed noisily for a few moments and stopped, and a launch came swiftly down the harbor. "The port doctor!" said Dick. "There's some cargo ready, and she won't sail for three or four hours. We had better wait until near the last moment before we go on board. If our man saw us, he'd take alarm and land." Don Sebastian agreed, and they went back to the hotel, and stayed there until word was sent that the last boat was ready to leave the mole. They took their places with one or two more passengers, and as they drew near the steamer Dick looked carefully about. Several shore boats were hanging on to the warp alongside and a cargo barge lay beside her quarter. It was obvious that she would not sail immediately, and if Kenwardine saw them come on board, he would have no trouble in leaving the vessel. If he landed, he would be in neutral territory, and their hold on him would be gone. To make things worse, a big electric lamp had been hung over the gangway so as to light the ladder. Dick could not see Kenwardine among the passengers on deck, and getting on board as quietly as possible, they went down the nearest companion stairs and along an alleyway to the purser's office. A number of rooms opened on to the passage, and Dick had an uncomfortable feeling that chance might bring him face to face with Kenwardine. Nobody met them, however, and they found the purser disengaged. "If you have a passenger list handy, you might let me see it," Dick said as he took the tickets. The purser gave him a list, and he noted Kenwardine's name near the bottom. "We may as well be comfortable, although we're not going far," he resumed. "What berths have you left?" "You can pick your place," said the purser. "We haven't many passengers this trip, and there's nobody on the starboard alleyway. However, if you want a hot bath in the morning, you had better sleep to port. They've broken a pipe on the other side." A bath is a luxury in the Caribbean, but white men who have lived any time in the tropics prefer it warm, and Dick saw why the passengers had chosen the port alleyway. He decided to take the other, since Kenwardine would then be on the opposite side of the ship. "We'll have the starboard rooms," he said. "One can go without a bath for once, and you'll no doubt reach Kingston to-morrow night." "I expect so," agreed the purser. "Still, we mayn't be allowed to steam in until the next morning. They're taking rather troublesome precautions in the British ports since the commerce-raider got to work." Dick signed to the others and crossed the after well towards the poop in a curiously grim mood. He hated the subterfuge he had practised, and there was something very repugnant in this stealthy tracking down of his man, but the chase was nearly over and he meant to finish it. Defenseless merchant seamen could not be allowed to suffer for his squeamishness. "Don Sebastian and I will wait in the second-class smoking-room until she starts," he said to Jake. "I want you to lounge about the poop deck and watch the gangway. Let us know at once if you see Kenwardine and it looks as if he means to go ashore." He disappeared with his companion, and Jake went up a ladder and sat down on the poop, where he was some distance from the saloon passengers. Kenwardine was less likely to be alarmed at seeing him, but he did not like his part. The man had welcomed him to his house, and although he had lost some money there, Jake did not believe his host had meant to plunder him. After all, Dick and Don Sebastian might be mistaken, and he felt mean as he watched the gangway. A hint from him would enable Kenwardine to escape, and it was galling to feel that it must not be given. Indeed, as time went on, Jake began to wish that Kenwardine would learn that they were on board and take alarm. He was not sure he would warn Dick if the fellow tried to steal away. In the meanwhile, the pumps on board a water-boat had stopped clanking and she was towed towards the harbor. The steamer's winches rattled as they hove up cargo from the barge, but Jake had seen that there was not much left and she would sail as soon as the last load was hoisted in. Lighting a cigarette, he ran his eye along the saloon-deck. A few passengers in white clothes walked up and down, and he studied their faces as they passed the lights, but Kenwardine was not among them. A group leaned upon the rails in the shadow of a boat, and Jake felt angry because he could not see them well. The suspense was getting keen, and he wished Kenwardine would steal down the ladder and jump into a boat before he could give the alarm. There was, however, no suspicious movement on the saloon-deck, and Jake, walking to the rail, saw the peons putting the last of the barge's cargo into the sling. It came up with a rattle of chain, and the barge sheered off. Somebody gave an order, and there was a bustle on deck. In another few minutes Kenwardine's last chance of escape would be gone, because a British ship is British territory, and her captain can enforce his country's laws. Jake threw away his cigarette and took out another when the whistle blew and the windlass began to clank. Although the anchor was coming up, two boats hung on to the foot of the ladder, and he could not be expected to see what was going on while he lighted his cigarette. Kenwardine was clever, and might have waited until the last moment before making his escape, with the object of leaving his pursuers on board, but if he did not go now it would be too late. The clank of the windlass stopped, and Jake, dropping the match when the flame touched his fingers, looked up. A group of dark figures were busy on the forecastle, and he saw the captain on the bridge. "All clear forward, sir!" a hoarse voice cried, and somebody shouted: "Cast off the boats!" Then there was a rattle of blocks as the ladder was hoisted in, and the deck quivered as the engines began to throb. Jake heard the screw slowly flounder round and the wash beneath the poop as the steamer moved out to sea, but there was nobody except their colored crews on board the boats that dropped astern. Kenwardine had had his chance and lost it. He had been too bold and now must confront his enemies. Jake went down the ladder and found Dick waiting at the door of the second-class saloon. "He's on board," he said. "I'm sorry he is. In fact, I'm not sure I'd have told you if he'd tried to light out at the last moment." Dick gave him a dry smile. "I suspect that Don Sebastian didn't trust you altogether. He left me, and I shouldn't be surprised to learn that he had found a place where he could watch the gangway without being seen." A few minutes later, the Spaniard crossed the after well. "Now," he said, "we must decide when we ought to have our interview with Señor Kenwardine, and I think we should put it off until just before we land." "Why?" Jake asked. "It would be much pleasanter to get it over and have done with it." "I think not," Don Sebastian answered quietly. "We do not know how Señor Kenwardine will meet the situation. He is a bold man, and it is possible that he will defy us." "How can he defy you when he knows you can hand him over to the British authorities?" "That might be necessary; but I am not sure it is the British authorities he fears the most." "Then who is he afraid of?" "His employers, I imagine," Don Sebastian answered with a curious smile. "It is understood that they trust nobody and are not very gentle to those who do not serve them well. Señor Kenwardine knows enough about their plans to be dangerous, and it looks as if he might fail to carry their orders out. If we give him too long a warning, he may escape us after all." "I don't see how he could escape. You have him corralled when he's under the British flag." Don Sebastian shrugged as he indicated the steamer's low iron rail and the glimmer of foam in the dark below. "There is one way! If he takes it, we shall learn no more than we know now." He left them, and Jake looked at Dick. "It's unthinkable! I can't stand for it!" "No," said Dick very quietly; "he mustn't be pushed too far. For all that, his friends can't be allowed to go on sinking British ships." CHAPTER XXX THE LAST ENCOUNTER Dick awoke next morning with a feeling of nervous strain that got worse as the day wore on. By going down to the saloon immediately the breakfast-bell rang and making a hurried meal, he and his companions avoided meeting Kenwardine, and, after bribing a steward, were given lunch with the second-class passengers. Two difficulties were thus got over, but the time passed heavily while they kept out of sight in quiet corners of the after well, and Dick found it a relief when a friendly engineer invited him below. Here he spent some hours, smoking and watching the machinery, while the fingers of the clock on the bulkhead crawled with painful slowness round the dial. When he went up on deck the bold ridge of the Blue Mountains rose above the dazzling sea, but the lower slopes were veiled in haze and he could not tell how far the land was off. A mate informed him that they would have the coast close aboard at dusk, but did not think anybody would be allowed to land until the morning. Struck by a thought, Dick asked if any passenger boats were likely to be in port, and the mate replied that a Spanish liner would leave for Brazil soon after they arrived, but he knew of no vessel going north for the next few days. Then, after giving Dick some advice about the choice of a hotel, he went away. Towards sunset the sea-breeze dropped and the mist gathered thicker about the hills. Faint puffs of hot wind began to blow off the land, which faded suddenly as darkness rolled down. A thin haze drifted out across the water and the speed slackened as the vessel closed with the shore. Then dim lights blinked out ahead, the engines stopped, and a detonating rocket burst high up in the sky. Soon afterwards a steam launch came off, and the purser stopped near Dick on his way to his room. "We are going in, but will have to wait until the agent gets formal permission from the guardship's commander, who must see our papers first," he said. "As this may take some time, perhaps you had better dine on board." When the bell rang Dick and his companions went to the saloon. There were not many passengers, and the room was nearly empty, but as they entered Dick saw Kenwardine at the bottom of a table. He glanced up as he heard their footsteps, and with an abrupt movement turned his revolving chair partly round. Next moment, however, he looked at Dick coolly, and after a nod of recognition went on with his dinner. Don Sebastian indicated a table between Kenwardine and the door, and they sat down. Jake played with his food, and Dick had not much appetite, although he partook of the dishes set before him, because he wanted an excuse for occupying the table until Kenwardine had finished. The latter showed no anxiety to get away and now and then kept the steward waiting while he studied the menu. Dick, who envied his coolness, thought it indicated one of two things: Kenwardine knew he was beaten and was philosophically resigned, or had some plan by which he hoped to baffle his pursuers. Now and then Dick looked at Don Sebastian inquiringly, but the Spaniard answered with an enigmatic smile. In the meantime, the passengers went away to pack or get ready for a run ashore, and at last the saloon was empty except for Dick's party and Kenwardine. Then Don Sebastian crossed the floor and bowed to the latter. "It would be a favor if you will take a glass of wine with us," he said. "Certainly," said Kenwardine, getting up, and Don Sebastian, who gave an order to a steward, led the way to a corner table where they would not be disturbed. "You were, perhaps, surprised to see us, señor," he resumed, when the others joined them. "I was," Kenwardine admitted. "Still, I suppose I ought to have been prepared for something of the kind." Don Sebastian bowed. "One may understand that as a compliment?" "Perhaps it is, in a sense. But I certainly did not expect to meet Mr. Fuller. We are told that his people mean to preserve a strict neutrality." Jake colored. "I'd have stood out if you had kept your dago friends off my partner. That's what brought me in; but I'm still trying to be as neutral as I can." "Señor Fuller has informed us that he means to see you get fair play," Don Sebastian interposed. "Well, he has my thanks for that, and my sympathy, which I think he needs," Kenwardine rejoined with a twinkle. "There's no doubt that he owes Mr. Brandon something, and I flatter myself that he rather liked me. It must have been embarrassing to find that he couldn't be friends with both. However, you had better tell me what you want. My clothes are not packed, and I must land as soon as possible, because I have some business to transact to-night." "I am afraid you will be unable to do so," Don Sebastian said politely. "Why?" "The explanation is rather long, but, to begin with, you no doubt know I was ordered to watch you." "I must admit that I suspected something very like it." "The President imagined you might become dangerous to the neutrality of the State, and I learned enough to show that he was right." "What did you learn?" Don Sebastian smiled. "I will be frank and put down my cards. I would not do so, señor, if I thought you could beat them." He began a concise account of the discoveries he had made; showing Kenwardine's association with the German, Richter, and giving particulars about the purchase of the Adexe coaling wharf. Jake leaned forward with his elbows on the table, listening eagerly, while Dick sat motionless. Part of what he heard was new to him, but the Spaniard's statements could not be doubted, and he envied Kenwardine's nerve. The latter's face was, for the most part, inscrutable, but now and then he made a sign of languid agreement, as if to admit that his antagonist had scored a point. "Well," he said when the other finished, "it is a story that might do me harm, and there are parts I cannot deny; but it is not complete. One finds awkward breaks in it. For example, you do not show how the raider got coal and information from the Adexe Company." "I think Señor Brandon can do so," said Don Sebastian, who turned to Dick. Taking his cue from the Spaniard, Dick related what he had noted at the coaling wharf and learned about the movements of the tug when the auxiliary cruiser was in the neighborhood. His account to some extent filled the gaps that Don Sebastian's narrative had left, but now he came to put the different points together and consider them as a whole, their significance seemed less. He began to see how a hostile critic would look at the thing. Much of his evidence was based upon conjecture that might be denied. Yet, while it was not convincing, it carried weight. There was a pause when he finished, and Jake was conscious of a strong revulsion of feeling as he studied his companions. In a way, the thin, dark-faced Spaniard and tranquil Englishman were alike. Both wore the stamp of breeding and were generally marked by an easy good humor and polished wit that won men's confidence and made them pleasant companions. But this was on the surface; beneath lay a character as hard and cold as a diamond. They were cunning, unscrupulous intriguers, who would stick at nothing that promised to serve their ends. Jake knew Kenwardine now, and felt angry as he remembered the infatuation that had prevented his understanding the man. Then he glanced at Dick, who sat waiting with a quietly resolute look. Dick was different from the others; he rang true. One could not doubt his rather naïve honesty, but in spite of this there was something about him that made him a match for his scheming opponent. Kenwardine, of course, had courage, but Dick was armed with a stern tenacity that made him careless of the hurt he received. Now, though he had nothing to gain and much to lose, he would hold on because duty demanded it. The contrast between them threw a lurid light upon Kenwardine's treachery. Then the latter said: "You have stated things clearly, Brandon, but, after all, what you offer is rather plausible argument than proof. In fact, you must see that your evidence isn't strong enough." "It's enough to justify our handing you to the military officers in Kingston, who would, no doubt, detain you while they made inquiries." "Which you don't want to do?" "No," said Dick shortly. "But I may be forced." "Very well. This brings us back to the point we started from," Kenwardine replied and turned to Don Sebastian. "What is it you want?" "To know where Richter is, and who supplied him with the money he paid for the coaling business." "Then I'm sorry I cannot tell you, and you certainly wouldn't get the information by having me locked up, but perhaps I can meet you in another way. Now it's obvious that you know enough to make it awkward for me to carry on the Adexe wharf, and my help is necessary for the part of the business you object to. If I retire from it altogether, you ought to be satisfied." The Spaniard did not answer, and while he pondered, the beat of a launch's engine came in through the open ports. Kenwardine lighted a cigarette, spending some time over it, and as he finished the launch ran alongside. There were footsteps on deck, and a few moments later a steward entered the saloon. "We are going in," he announced. "Will you have your luggage put on deck?" "You can take ours up," said Don Sebastian, who indicated Kenwardine. "Leave this gentleman's for the present." Kenwardine did not object, but Jake, who was watching him, thought he saw, for the first time, a hint of uneasiness in his look. Then Don Sebastian got up. "I must think over Señor Kenwardine's suggestion, and you may want to talk to him," he said, and went out. When he had gone, Kenwardine turned to Dick. "There's a matter I would like to clear up; I had nothing to do with the attempts that seem to have been made upon your life. In fact, I suspected nothing of the kind until you told me about the accident at the dam, but Fuller afterwards showed me that it was time to interfere." "That's true," said Jake. "Anyhow, I gave him a plain hint, but as he didn't seem able to stop the accidents, I put Don Sebastian on the track." "You can't with any fairness make me accountable for the actions of half-breeds who hold life very cheap and meant to keep a paying job," Kenwardine resumed, addressing Dick. "You knew what kind of men you had to deal with and took the risk." "It's hard to see how a white man could make use of such poisonous colored trash," Jake remarked. "But I expect you don't want me, and I'll see what Don Sebastian is doing." He left them, and there was silence for a few moments until the screw began to throb and they heard the wash of water along the steamer's side. Then Kenwardine said quietly, "Fuller has tact. There's a matter that concerns us both that has not been mentioned yet. I'll clear the ground by stating that although our Spanish friend has not decided what he means to do, I shall not go back to Santa Brigida. I imagine this will remove an obstacle from your way." "Thanks for the lead," Dick answered. "I resolved, some time ago, to marry Clare if she would have me, though I saw that it would mean separating her from you." "And yet you believed she stole your papers!" "I thought she did," Dick answered doggedly. "Still, I didn't blame her." "You blamed me? But you ought to be satisfied, in one respect, because Clare and I are separated, and I'll own that I'm anxious about her future. Had things gone well, I would have tried to keep her away from you; in fact, I did try, because I frankly think she might have made a better marriage. For all that, if you are determined and she is willing, you have my consent. You will probably never be very rich, but I could trust Clare to you." "I am determined." "Very well. I can tell you something you may be glad to hear. Clare did not rob you, nor did I." Dick looked at him with keen relief. "Then who took the plans?" "Your cousin. The pocket they were in was unbuttoned when he took hold of you and hurried you out of the house. He brought them to me afterwards, but I saw they were not valuable and destroyed them." It was impossible to doubt the statement, and Dick flushed with shame and anger as he realized that his absurd and unjust suspicion of Clare had prevented his seeing who the real culprit was. Clare had accidentally torn his pocket loose, the bulky envelope must have been sticking out, and Lance had noticed it as he hustled him across the hall. "Yes; Lance took the plans!" he exclaimed hoarsely. "But why?" "It looks as if you hadn't heard from home. Your cousin has stepped into your place. I imagine he had always envied it, and didn't hesitate when he saw an opportunity of getting rid of you." Dick was silent for a few moments and his face was very hard. He heard the crew hurrying about the deck, and a winch rattle as the hatches were lifted. The vessel would soon be in port, and Kenwardine's fate must be decided before they went ashore; but the man looked very cool as he leaned back in his chair, languidly waiting. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" Dick asked sternly. "I should have thought my object was plain enough," Kenwardine replied. "I didn't want Clare to marry a badly paid engineer. Things are different now and I admit that you have stood a rather severe test. I'll give you two letters; one to Clare, advising her to marry you, and the other stating how your cousin stole the plans, which you can use in any way you like. Before writing them, I'd like to see Fuller for a minute or two. You needn't hesitate about it, because I don't mean to victimize him in any way. In fact, I want to tell him something to his advantage." Dick went out, and when he had sent Jake down, leaned upon the steamer's rail lost in thought. It had been a shock to learn of his cousin's treachery, but this was balanced by the relief of knowing that Clare was innocent. Indeed, he grew hot with shame as he wondered how he had suspected her. He felt angry with Kenwardine for keeping him in the dark so long, but his indignation was tempered by a touch of grim amusement. Since the fellow was ambitious for Clare, he must have regretted having destroyed the plans when he learned that Dick's father was rich, but after conniving at the theft he could not put matters right. Now, when his career was ended, he was willing, for his daughter's sake, to clear Dick's name and help him to regain the station he had lost. But Dick was not sure he wished to regain it just yet. He had been turned out of the army; his father, who had never shown much love for him, had been quick to believe the worst; and he was bound for a time to a man who had befriended him. Presently he looked about. Lights were opening out in twinkling lines as the steamer moved shoreward, and a splash of oars came out of the gloom. Dick vacantly noted that several boats were approaching, and then a winch rattled and Don Sebastian, who had come up quietly, touched his arm. A chain sling swung past beneath a moving derrick, and as they crossed the deck to get out of the way he saw a steamer close by. Her windlass was clanking as she shortened her cable and he supposed she was the Spanish boat the mate had spoken of, but he followed his companion and listened to what he had to say. Then as the anchor was let go he thought Jake ought to have come back and went to look for him. He found the lad leaning against the deckhouse, smoking a cigarette. "Where's Kenwardine?" he asked. "I left him in the saloon. He gave me two letters for you and a useful hint about some debts of mine." "Never mind that! How long is it since you left him?" "Quite five minutes," Jake answered coolly. Struck by something in his tone, Dick ran below and found no luggage in Kenwardine's room. None of the stewards whom he asked had seen him for some time, and a hasty search showed that he was not on deck. Dick went back to Jake. "Do you know where the fellow is?" he asked sharply as Don Sebastian came up. "If you insist, I imagine he's on board the Spanish boat," Jake answered with a chuckle. "As she seems to have her anchor up, I guess it's too late for us to interfere." A sharp rattle of chain that had rung across the water suddenly stopped and Dick saw one of the steamer's colored side-lights slowly move. It was plain that she was going to sea. "Since we had been passed by the doctor, there was nothing to prevent the shore boats coming alongside, and I believe one or two did so before we quite stopped," Jake resumed. "They were, no doubt, looking for a job, and the ladder was already lowered." "Then you knew Kenwardine meant to steal away?" "I didn't know, but thought it likely," Jake replied with some dryness. "On the whole, it was perhaps the best thing he could do. What's your opinion, Don Sebastian?" The Spaniard smiled. "I think the President will be satisfied that it was the simplest way out of the difficulty." "Well," said Jake, "here are your letters, Dick. Perhaps we had better see about getting ashore." They moved towards the gangway, past the hatch where some heavy cases were being hoisted up, and Dick carefully put the letters in his pocket. This distracted his attention from what was going on, and when he heard a warning shout he stepped back a moment too late. A big case swung forward beneath a derrick-boom and struck his shoulder. Staggering with the blow, he lost his balance and plunged down the hatch. He was conscious of a heavy shock, a sudden, stinging pain, and then remembered nothing more. CHAPTER XXXI RICHTER'S MESSAGE It was a hot evening and Clare sat at a table in the patio, trying to read. The light was bad, for buzzing insects hovered about the lamp, but the house had not cooled down yet and she wanted to distract her troubled thoughts. Footsteps and voices rose from the street outside, where the citizens were passing on their way to the plaza, but the sounds were faint and muffled by the high walls. The house had been built in times when women were jealously guarded and a dwelling was something of a fort. Now, with the iron gate in the narrow, arched entrance barred, the girl was securely cut off from the exotic life of the city. This isolation was sometimes a comfort, but it sometimes jarred. Clare was young, and fond of cheerful society, and the iron gate had its counterpart in another barrier, invisible but strong, that shut her out from much she would have enjoyed. She often stood, so to speak, gazing wistfully between the bars at innocent pleasures in which she could not join. Kenwardine, in spite of his polished manners, was tactfully avoided by English and Americans of the better class, and their wives and daughters openly showed their disapproval. At length Clare gave up the attempt to read. She felt lonely and depressed. Nobody had been to the house since Kenwardine left, and Dick and Jake were away. She did not see Dick often and he was, of course, nothing to her; for one thing, he was in some mysterious way her father's enemy. Still, she missed him; he was honest, and perhaps, if things had been different---- Then she turned her head sharply as she heard the click of a bolt. This was strange, because Lucille had locked the gate. She could not see it in the gloom of the arch, but it had certainly opened. Then as she waited with somewhat excited curiosity a dark figure appeared on the edge of the light, and she put down her book as Richter came forward. He made very little noise and stopped near the table. "How did you get in?" she asked. Richter smiled. "You have forgotten that Herr Kenwardine gave me a key." "I didn't know he had," Clare answered. "But won't you sit down?" He moved a chair to a spot where his white clothes were less conspicuous, though Clare noted that he did so carelessly and not as if he wished to hide himself. Then he put a small linen bag on the table. "This is some money that belongs to Herr Kenwardine; you may find it useful. It is not good to be without money in a foreign town." Clare looked at him with alarm. He was fat and generally placid, but his philosophical good humor was not so marked as usual. "Then you have heard from my father?" "Yes. I have a cablegram. It was sent in a roundabout way through other people's hands and took some time to reach me. Herr Kenwardine left Kingston last night." "But there is no boat yet." Richter nodded. "He is not coming to Santa Brigida. I do not think that he will come back at all." For a moment or two Clare felt unnerved, but she pulled herself together. She realized now that she had long had a vague fear that something of this kind would happen. "Then where has he gone? Why didn't he write to me?" she asked. "He has gone to Brazil and will, no doubt, write when he arrives. In the meantime, you must wait and tell people he is away on business. This is important. You have some money, and the house is yours for a month or two." "But why has he gone? Will you show me the cablegram?" "You could not understand it, and it might be better that you should not know," Richter answered. Then he paused and his manner, which had been friendly and sympathetic, changed. His short hair seemed to bristle and his eyes sparkled under his shaggy brows as he resumed: "Herr Kenwardine was forced to go at the moment he was needed most. Your father, fräulein, is a bold and clever man, but he was beaten by a blundering fool. We had confidence in him, but the luck was with his enemies." "Who are his enemies?" "The Englishman, Brandon, is the worst," Richter answered with keen bitterness. "We knew he was against us, but thought this something of a joke. Well, it seems we were mistaken. These English are obstinate; often without imagination or forethought, they blunder on, and chance, that favors simpletons, is sometimes with them. But remember, that if your father meets with misfortunes, you have Brandon to thank." The color left Clare's face, but she tried to brace herself. "What misfortunes has my father to fear?" Richter hesitated, and then said deprecatingly: "I cannot be as frank as I wish. Herr Kenwardine's work was most important, but he failed in it. I know this was not his fault and would trust him again, but there are others, of higher rank, who may take a different view. Besides, it will be remembered that he is an Englishman. If he stays in Brazil, I think he will be left alone, but he will get no money and some he has earned will not be sent. Indeed, if it were known, fräulein, I might be blamed for paying you this small sum, but I expect you will need it." He got up, as if to go, but Clare stopped him. "You will come back as soon as you know something more and tell me what to do." Richter made an apologetic gesture. "That will be impossible. I ran some risk in coming now and leave Santa Brigida to-night in a fishing boat. You will stay in this house, as if you expect your father back, until you hear from him. He will send you instructions when he lands." Then the kitchen door across the patio opened and a bucket clinked. Richter stepped back into the shadow and Clare looked round as an indistinct figure crossed the tiles. When she looked back Richter had gone and she heard the splash of water. She sat still until the servant went away and then sank down limply in her chair. She was left alone and unprotected except for old Lucille, in a foreign town where morals were lax and license was the rule. The few English and Americans whose help she might have asked regarded her with suspicion, and it looked as if her father would be unable to send for her. This was daunting but it was not the worst. Richter had vaguely hinted at Kenwardine's business, which was obviously mysterious. She saw where his hints led, but she would not follow up the clue. Her father had been ruined by Brandon, and her heart was filled with anger, in which she found it some relief to indulge. Dick had long been their enemy and thought her a thief, while the possibility that he was justified in the line he had taken made matters worse. If she was the daughter of a man dishonored by some treason against his country, she could not marry Dick. She had already refused to do so, but she did not want to be logical. It was simpler to hate him as the cause of her father's downfall. The latter had always indulged her, and now she understood that he would land in Brazil penniless, or at least impoverished. Since he was accustomed to extravagance, it was painful to think of what he might suffer. Then she began to speculate about Richter's visit. He had come at some risk and seemed sorry for her, but he had urged her to stay in the house, as if she expected her father to return. This could be of no advantage to the latter, and she wondered whether the man had meant to make use of her to divert suspicion from himself and his friends. It seemed uncharitable to think so, but she was very bitter and could trust nobody. After a time she got calm, and remembering that she had her own situation to consider, counted the money in the bag. It was not a large sum, but with economy might last for a few weeks, after which she must make some plans. She was incapable of grappling with any fresh difficulty yet, but she must brace her courage and not break down, and getting up with a resolute movement she went into the house. On the morning after his fall, Dick came to his senses in a shaded room. He heard a shutter rattle as the warm breeze flowed in, and noted a flickering patch of light on the wall, but found with some annoyance that he could not see it well. His head was throbbing and a bandage covered part of his face. His side was painful too, and he groaned when he tried to move. "Where am I?" he asked a strange man, who appeared beside his bed, and added in an injured tone: "It looks as if I'd got into trouble again." "You had a narrow escape," the other answered soothingly. "You cut your head badly and broke two of your ribs when you fell down the steamer's hold. Now you're in hospital, but you're not to talk." "I'll get worse if you keep me quiet," Dick grumbled. "How can you find out things that bother you, unless you talk?" "Don't bother about them," said the doctor. "Have a drink instead." Dick looked at the glass with dull suspicion. "I don't know, though I'm thirsty. You see, I've been in a doctor's hands before. In fact, I seem to have a gift for getting hurt." "It's cool and tastes nice," the other urged. "You didn't rest much last night and if you go to sleep now we'll try to satisfy your curiosity afterwards." Dick hesitated, but took the glass and went to sleep soon after he drained it. When he awoke the light had vanished from the wall and the room was shadowy, but he saw Jake sitting by the bed. A nurse, who put a thermometer in his mouth and felt his pulse, nodded to the lad as if satisfied before she went away. Dick's head was clearer, and although the movement hurt him he resolutely fixed his uncovered eye on his companion. "Now," he said, "don't tell me not to talk. Do you know why they've fixed this bandage so that it half blinds me?" Jake looked embarrassed. "There's a pretty deep cut on your forehead." "Do you suppose I can't feel it? But I want to know why they're not satisfied with tying my forehead up? You may as well tell me, because I'm not going to sleep again. It looks as if I'd slept all day." "The cut runs through your eyelid and the doctor thinks it wiser to be careful." "About my eye?" "It's just a precaution," Jake declared. "There's really nothing the matter, but he thought it would be better to keep out the strong light." "Ah!" said Dick, who was not deceived, and was silent for the next few moments. Then he resumed in a rather strained voice: "Well, let's talk about something else. Where's Don Sebastian?" "I haven't seen him since lunch, but he spent the morning interviewing the British authorities." "Do you think he told them to send after Kenwardine?" "No," said Jake with a twinkle, "I rather think he's put them off the track, and although he had to give them a hint out of politeness, doesn't want them to know too much. Then there's only an old-fashioned cruiser here and I understand she has to stop for a guardship. In fact, Don Sebastian seems to imagine that Kenwardine is safe so long as he keeps off British soil. However, an official gentleman with a refined taste in clothes and charming manners called at our hotel and is coming to see you as soon as the doctor will let him." Next morning Dick saw the gentleman, who stated his rank and then asked a number of questions, which Dick did not answer clearly. He was glad that his bandaged head gave him an excuse for seeming stupid. He had done his part, and now Kenwardine could do no further harm, it would be better for everybody if he got away. After a time, his visitor observed: "Well, you seem to have rendered your country a service, and I expect you will find things made smooth for you at home after our report upon the matter has been received." "Ah!" said Dick. "It looks as if you knew why I left." The gentleman made a sign of assent. "Your Spanish friend was discreet, but he told us something. Besides, there are army lists and _London Gazettes_ in Kingston." Dick was silent for a few moments, and then said: "As a matter of fact, I am not anxious to go home just yet." "Are you not?" the other asked with a hint of polite surprise. "I do not think there would be much difficulty about a new commission, and officers are wanted." "They're not likely to want a man with one eye, and I expect it will come to that," Dick said grimly. His visitor was sympathetic, but left soon afterwards, and Dick thought he was not much wiser about Kenwardine's escape than when he came. Two or three weeks later he was allowed to get up, although he was tightly strapped with bandages and made to wear a shade over his eyes. When he lay in the open air one morning, Jake joined him. "We must get back to Santa Brigida as soon as we can," he said. "They're planning an extension of the irrigation scheme, and the old man and Ida are coming out. The doctor seems to think you might go by the next boat if we take care of you. But I'd better give you Kenwardine's letters. We took them out of your pocket the night you got hurt, and I've been wondering why you haven't asked for them." "Thanks," Dick answered dully. "I don't know that I'll use them now. I'll be glad to get back and dare say I can do my work with one eye." "You'll soon have both," Jake declared. "It's doubtful," said Dick. "I don't think the doctor's very sanguine." On the whole, he was relieved when Jake left, because he found it an effort to talk, but the thoughts he afterwards indulged in were gloomy. His broken ribs did not trouble him much, but there was some risk of his losing his eye. He had helped to expose and banish Kenwardine, and could not ask Clare to marry him after that, even if he were not half blind and disfigured. Besides, it was doubtful if he would be able to resume his profession or do any useful work again. The sight of the uninjured eye might go. As a matter of fact, the strain he had borne for some time had told upon his health and the shock of the accident had made things worse. He had sunk into a dejected, lethargic mood, from which he had not the vigor to rouse himself. A week later he was helped on board a small French boat and sailed for Santa Brigida. He did not improve with the sea air, as Jake had hoped, and for the most part avoided the few passengers and sat alone in the darkest corner he could find. Now and then he moodily read Kenwardine's letters. He had at first expected much from them. They might have removed the stain upon his name and the greatest obstacle between himself and Clare; but he no longer cared much about the former and the letters were useless now. For all that, he put them carefully away in a leather case which he carried in an inside pocket. CHAPTER XXXII IDA INTERFERES On his return to Santa Brigida, Dick went to see a Spanish oculist, who took a more hopeful view than the Kingston doctor, although he admitted that there was some danger of the injury proving permanent. Dick felt slightly comforted when he learned that the oculist was a clever man who had been well known in Barcelona until he was forced to leave the city after taking part in some revolutionary plot. He was, however, unable to resume his work, and while he brooded over his misfortunes a touch of the malaria he had already suffered from hindered his recovery. One of the effects of malaria is a feeling of black depression. He was feebly struggling against the weakness and despondence when Fuller arrived and soon afterwards came to see him. Dick, who was sitting in the darkest corner of the veranda, had got rid of his bandage; but an ugly, livid mark crossed his forehead to the shade above his eyes and his face looked worn. Fuller talked about the dam for a time, and then stopped and looked hard at his silent companion. "I imagined all this would interest you, but you don't say much." "No," said Dick. "You see, it's galling to listen to plans you can't take part in. In fact, I feel I ought to resign." "Why?" "It looks as if it may be a long time before I can get to work and I may never be of much use again." "Well, I suppose it's natural that you should feel badly humped, but you don't know that you'll lose your eye, and if you did, you'd do your work all right with the other. However, since you started the subject, I've something to say about our contract. If the new scheme we're negotiating goes through, as I think it will, I'll have to increase my staff. Should I do so, you'll get a move up and, of course, better pay for a more important job." Dick, who was touched by this mark of confidence, thanked him awkwardly, and although he felt bound to object that he might be unable to fill the new post, Fuller stopped him. "All you have to do is to lie off and take it easy until you get well. I know a useful man when I see him and it won't pay me to let you go. When I've fixed things with the President I'll make you an offer. Now Stuyvesant's waiting for me and I understand my daughter is coming to see you." He went away and soon afterwards Ida Fuller came in. Dick rather awkwardly got her a chair, for his shade, which was closely pulled down, embarrassed him, but she noticed this, and his clumsiness made a strong appeal. She liked Dick and had some ground for being grateful to him. For half an hour she talked in a cheerful strain and Dick did his best to respond, but she saw what the effort cost and went away in a thoughtful mood. Ida Fuller had both sympathy and self-confidence, and when things went wrong with her friends seldom felt diffident about trying to put them right. In consequence, she took Jake away from the others, whom her father had asked to dinner that evening. "What's the matter with Dick Brandon?" she asked. "It's pretty obvious. His trouble began with broken ribs and may end with the loss of his eye; but if you want a list of his symptoms----" "I don't," said Ida. "Does his trouble end with the injury to his eye?" Jake gave her a sharp glance. "If you insist on knowing, I admit that I have my doubts. But you must remember that Dick has a touch of malaria, which makes one morbid." "But this doesn't account for everything?" "No," said Jake, who lighted a cigarette, "I don't think it does. In fact, as I know your capabilities and begin to see what you're getting after, there's not much use in my trying to put you off the track." Ida sat down in a canvas chair and pondered for a minute or two. "You know Miss Kenwardine; if I recollect, you were rather enthusiastic about her. What is she like?" Jake's eyes twinkled. "You mean--is she good enough for Dick? He'll be a lucky man if he gets her, and I don't mind confessing that I thought of marrying her myself only she made it clear that she had no use for me. She was quite right; I'd have made a very poor match for a girl like that." Ida was not deceived by his half-humorous manner, for she remarked something that it was meant to hide. Still, Jake had had numerous love affairs that seldom lasted long. "Have you been to see her since you came back?" she asked. "Yes," said Jake. "After helping to drive her father out of the country, I knew it would be an awkward meeting, but I felt I ought to go because she might be in difficulties, and I went twice. On the whole, it was a relief when I was told she was not at home." "I wonder whether she would see me?" "You're pretty smart, but I suspect this is too delicate a matter for you to meddle with." "I'll be better able to judge if you tell me what you know about it." Jake did so with some hesitation. He knew his sister's talents and that her object was good, but he shrank from betraying his comrade's secrets. "I think I've put you wise, but I feel rather mean," he concluded. "What you feel is not important. But you really think he hasn't sent her Kenwardine's letter?" Jake made a sign of agreement and Ida resumed: "The other letter stating that his cousin stole the plans is equally valuable and his making no use of it is significant. Your partner's a white man, Jake, but he's foolish and needs the help of a judicious friend. I want both letters." "I've warned you that it's a dangerous game. You may muss up things." "Then I'll be responsible. Can you get the letters?" "I think so," Jake replied with an embarrassed grin. "In a way, it's a shabby trick, but if he will keep papers in his pocket after getting one lot stolen, he must take the consequences." "Very well," said Ida calmly. "Now we had better go in before the others wonder why we left them." Next morning Clare sat in the patio in very low spirits. No word had come from Kenwardine, and her money was nearly exhausted. She had heard of Dick's return, but not that he was injured, and he had kept away. This was not surprising and she did not want to meet him; but it was strange that he had not come to see her and make some excuse for what he had done. He could, of course, make none that would appease her, but he ought to have tried, and it looked as if he did not care what she thought of his treachery. Then she glanced up as Ida came in. Clare had seen Ida in the street and knew who she was, but she studied her with keen curiosity as she advanced. Her dress was tasteful, she was pretty, and had a certain stamp of refinement and composure that Clare knew came from social training; but she felt antagonistic. For all that, she indicated a chair and waited until her visitor sat down. Then she asked with a level glance: "Why have you come to see me?" "I expect you mean--why did I come without getting your servant to announce me?" Ida rejoined with a disarming smile. "Well, the gate was open, and I wanted to see you very much, but was half afraid you wouldn't let me in. I owe you some apology, but understand that my brother is a friend of yours." "He was," Clare said coldly. "Then he has lost your friendship by taking Dick Brandon's part?" Clare colored, but her voice was firm as she answered: "To some extent that is true. Mr. Brandon has cruelly injured us." "He was forced. Dick Brandon is not the man to shirk his duty because it was painful and clashed with his wishes." "Was it his duty to ruin my father?" "He must have thought so; but we are getting on dangerous ground. I don't know much about the matter. Do you?" Clare lowered her eyes. Since Richter's visit, she had had disturbing doubts about the nature of Kenwardine's business; but after a few moments she asked in a hard, suspicious voice: "How do you know so much about Mr. Brandon?" "Well," said Ida calmly, "it's plain that I'm not in love with him, because if I were, I should not have tried to make his peace with you. As a matter of fact, I'm going to marry somebody else before very long. However, now I think I've cleared away a possible mistake, I'll own that I like Dick Brandon very much and am grateful to him for the care he has taken of my brother." "He stopped Jake from coming here," Clare rejoined with a blush. "That is so," Ida agreed. "He has done a number of other things that got him into difficulties, because he thought it right. That's the kind of man he is. Then I understand he was out of work and feeling desperate when my father engaged him, he got promotion in his employment, and I asked him to see that Jake came to no harm. I don't know if he kept his promise too conscientiously, and you can judge better than me. But I think you ought to read the letters your father gave him." She first put down Kenwardine's statement about the theft of the plans, and Clare was conscious of overwhelming relief as she read it. Dick knew now that she was not the thief. Then Ida said: "If you will read the next, you will see that your father doesn't feel much of a grievance against Brandon." The note was short, but Kenwardine stated clearly that if Clare wished to marry Brandon he would be satisfied and advised her to do so. The girl's face flushed as she read and her hands trembled. Kenwardine certainly seemed to bear Dick no ill will. But since the latter had his formal consent, why had he not used it? "Did Mr. Brandon send you with these letters?" she asked as calmly as she could. "No, I brought them without telling him, because it seemed the best thing to do." "You knew what they said?" "I did," Ida admitted. "They were open." Clare noted her confession; but she must deal with matters of much greater importance. "Then do you know why he kept the letters back?" Ida hesitated. If Clare were not the girl she thought, she might, by appealing to her compassion, supply her with a reason for giving Dick up, but if this happened, it would be to his advantage in the end. Still she did not think she was mistaken and she must take the risk. "Yes," she said. "I feel that you ought to understand his reasons; that is really why I came. It looks as if you had not heard that shortly after he met your father Dick fell down the steamer's hold." Clare made an abrupt movement and her face got anxious. "Was he hurt?" "Very badly. He broke two ribs and the fever he got soon afterwards stopped his getting better; but that is not the worst. One of his eyes was injured, and there is some danger that he may lose his sight." It was plain that Clare had got a shock, for she sat in a tense attitude and the color left her face; but Ida saw that she had read her character right and taken the proper course. Indeed, she wondered whether she had not unnecessarily harrowed the girl's feelings. "Now," she resumed, "you understand why Dick Brandon kept back the letters. It is obvious that he loves you, but he is disfigured and may have to give up his profession----" She stopped, for Clare's face changed and her eyes shone with a gentle light. "But what does that matter?" she exclaimed. "He can't think it would daunt me." Ida rose, for she saw that she had said enough. "Then perhaps you had better show him that you are not afraid. If you will dine with us this evening at the dam, you will see him. Jake will come for you and bring you back." When she left a few minutes later she had arranged for the visit, and Clare sat still, overwhelmed with compassionate gentleness and relief. Her father did not blame Dick and there was no reason she should harden her heart against him. He knew that she was innocent, but he was tied by honorable scruples. Well, since he would not come to her, she must go to him, but she would do so with pride and not false shame. It was clear that he loved her unselfishly. By and by, however, she roused herself. As she was going to him, there were matters to think about, and entering the house she spent some time studying her wardrobe and wondering what she would wear. That evening Dick sat on the veranda of his shack, with a shaded lamp, which he had turned low, on the table close by. His comrades were dining at Fuller's tent and he had been asked, but had made excuses although he was well enough to go. For one thing, it hurt him to sit in a strong light, though the oculist, whom he had seen in the morning, spoke encouragingly about his eye. Indeed, Dick had begun to think that there was now no real danger of its having received a permanent injury. For all that, he was listless and depressed, because he had not got rid of the fever and malaria is generally worse at night. He had been cautioned not to read and his cigarette had a bitter taste. There was nothing to do but wait until Jake came home. Now he thought of it, Jake had accepted his excuses rather easily. By and by, he heard the lad's voice and footsteps on the path. Jake was returning early and there was somebody with him, but Dick wished they had left him alone. He rose, however, as Ida came up the steps and into the light, which did not carry far. Dick imagined there was another person as well as Jake in the shadow behind. "Jake brought me over to see his last sketches and I'm going in to criticize them," she said. "As you couldn't come to us, I've brought you a visitor, whom you know." Dick felt his heart beat as he saw Clare. She was dressed in white, and the silver clasp gleamed against a lavender band at her waist. It was significant that she wore it, but he could not see her face clearly. Then Ida beckoned Jake. "Come along; I want to look at the drawings." They went into the house, and Dick made an effort to preserve his self-control. Clare moved into the light and he saw her color rise, though her eyes were very soft. "Why didn't you tell me you were ill?" she asked with gentle reproach. He hesitated, trying to strengthen his resolution, which he knew was breaking down, and Clare resumed: "Besides, I don't think you should have kept that letter back." Dick instinctively pulled out the leather case, and started as he saw there was nothing inside. "It's gone. You have seen it?" he stammered. "I've seen them both," Clare answered with a smile. "Doesn't this remind you of something? I'm afraid you're careless, Dick." The color rushed into his face. "If you have seen those letters, you know what a suspicious fool I've been." "That doesn't matter. You're convinced at last?" Clare rejoined with a hint of pride. "In a sense, I always was convinced. If I'd seen you take the wretched plans, I wouldn't have held you accountable. Because you took them, it couldn't have been wrong." Clare blushed, but looked at him with shining eyes. "I wanted to hear you say it again. But it wasn't that letter--I mean the one about the plans--that brought me." Then the last of Dick's self-control vanished and with a half conscious movement he held out his hands. Clare came forward and next moment she was in his arms. Some time later he felt he must be practical and said in a deprecatory tone: "But you must try to understand what you are doing, dear, and the sacrifices you must make. Things aren't quite as bad as they looked, but I can't go home just yet and may always be a poor engineer." He indicated the galvanized-iron shack. "You will have to live in a place like this, and though I think my eye will get better, there's the scar on my face----" Clare gave him a quiet smiling glance. "That doesn't matter, Dick, and I never really had a home." She paused and added gently: "But I shall have one now." 
23286	----	file was produced from scans of public domain material produced by Microsoft for their Live Search Books site.) THE ROVER BOYS UNDER CANVAS _By_ ARTHUR M. WINFIELD [Illustration: "MY GRACIOUS! LOOK AT THAT!" (_Frontispiece_)--_Page 28_] THE ROVER BOYS UNDER CANVAS OR _THE MYSTERY OF THE WRECKED SUBMARINE_ BY ARTHUR M. WINFIELD (Edward Stratemeyer) AUTHOR OF "THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL," "THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN," "THE PUTNAM HALL SERIES," ETC. _ILLUSTRATED_ NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS Made in the United States of America BOOKS BY ARTHUR M. WINFIELD (Edward Stratemeyer) THE FIRST ROVER BOYS SERIES THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE THE ROVER BOYS OUT WEST THE ROVER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP THE ROVER BOYS ON LAND AND SEA THE ROVER BOYS ON THE RIVER THE ROVER BOYS ON THE PLAINS THE ROVER BOYS IN SOUTHERN WATERS THE ROVER BOYS ON THE FARM THE ROVER BOYS ON TREASURE ISLE THE ROVER BOYS AT COLLEGE THE ROVER BOYS DOWN EAST THE ROVER BOYS IN THE AIR THE ROVER BOYS IN NEW YORK THE ROVER BOYS IN ALASKA THE ROVER BOYS IN BUSINESS THE ROVER BOYS ON A TOUR THE SECOND ROVER BOYS SERIES THE ROVER BOYS AT COLBY HALL THE ROVER BOYS ON SNOWSHOE ISLAND THE ROVER BOYS UNDER CANVAS THE PUTNAM HALL SERIES THE PUTNAM HALL CADETS THE PUTNAM HALL RIVALS THE PUTNAM HALL CHAMPIONS THE PUTNAM HALL REBELLION THE PUTNAM HALL ENCAMPMENT THE PUTNAM HALL MYSTERY 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY EDWARD STRATEMEYER _The Rover Boys Under Canvas_ INTRODUCTION MY DEAR BOYS: This book is a complete story in itself, but forms the third volume in a line issued under the general title, "The Second Rover Boys Series for Young Americans." As mentioned in a number of volumes of the first series, this line was started some years ago with the publication of "The Rover Boys at School," "On the Ocean," and "In the Jungle," in which I introduced my young readers to Dick, Tom, and Sam Rover. The volumes of the first series related the doings of these three Rover boys while attending Putnam Hall Military Academy, Brill College, and while on numerous outings. Having acquired a good education, the three young men established themselves in business and became married. Presently Dick Rover was blessed with a son and a daughter, as was also his brother Sam, while Tom Rover became the proud father of twin boys. At first the four lads were kept at home, but then it was thought best to send them to a boarding school, and in the first volume of the second series, entitled "The Rover Boys at Colby Hall," I related what happened to them while attending this institution. From Colby Hall the scene was shifted to Snowshoe Island, where the lads went for a mid-winter outing. Here they ran into a most unusual mystery, and helped an old lumberman to establish his claim to the island. In the present volume the boys are back at Colby Hall, but it is time for the annual encampment of the military school, and soon they depart for a brief season "Under Canvas." This is at the time of the World War, and the lads get mixed up in the mystery surrounding a wrecked submarine. What this led to, I leave for the pages which follow to relate. In conclusion I wish to thank my numerous readers for all the nice things they have said about my books. I trust the reading of the volumes will do all of them good. Affectionately and sincerely yours, EDWARD STRATEMEYER. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I A GAME OF BASEBALL 1 II ABOUT THE ROVER BOYS 12 III THE AMMUNITION FACTORY EXPLOSIONS 25 IV A RESCUE ON THE LAKE 35 V MEETING OLD ENEMIES 41 VI CELEBRATING THE BASEBALL VICTORY 56 VII FUN WITH CODFISH 66 VIII AN INTERRUPTED FEAST 76 IX A TELEGRAM FROM HOME 87 X ON THE WAY HOME 98 XI TOM ROVER'S DILEMMA 109 XII AT THE ROVER COMPANY OFFICES 120 XIII FUN AT A RAILROAD STATION 132 XIV BACK TO COLBY HALL 142 XV THE ELECTION FOR OFFICERS 153 XVI OFF FOR THE ENCAMPMENT 164 XVII A NIGHT ON THE ROAD 175 XVIII ONE SURPRISE AND ANOTHER 184 XIX AT CAMP BARLIGHT 194 XX FIRST DAYS UNDER CANVAS 202 XXI STRANGE NOISES 212 XXII AT THE RIFLE RANGES 221 XXIII GIRL VISITORS 231 XXIV TOM ROVER'S ANNOUNCEMENT 240 XXV AT CAMP HUXWELL 250 XXVI AN ASTONISHING DISCOVERY 260 XXVII ON BOARD THE SUBMARINE 271 XXVIII THE CABIN IN THE WOODS 282 XXIX THE FIGHT ON THE SUBMARINE 291 XXX AN IMPORTANT CAPTURE--CONCLUSION 300 THE ROVER BOYS UNDER CANVAS CHAPTER I A GAME OF BASEBALL "Now for a home run, Jack!" "Soak it out over the bleachers!" "Show the Hixley boys what we can do!" "Give him a swift one, Dink! Don't let him hit it!" "Oh, dear, I do hope Jack scores!" came in a sweet, girlish voice. "Of course he'll score!" returned a youth sitting near the girl who had made the remark. "He's been holding back for just this chance." "Oh, do you think so?" asked another girl in the grandstand. "Surest thing ever was," was the airy rejoinder. "This is the time we're going to show the Hixley boys what's what." "Not on your life!" bellowed a heavy voice from the rear. "Here is where Colby Hall gets snowed under." Then came a series of yells, followed by the tooting of horns and the sounding of rattles, making a din that was almost ear-splitting. The occasion was the annual baseball game between Hixley High and Colby Hall. It had been scheduled to take place on the high-school athletic field, but at almost the last minute this field had been declared out of condition, and it had been decided to hold the contest on the athletic grounds attached to the military academy. Hixley High was very anxious to win this game. During the previous fall, as related in a former volume of this series, the high-school lads had lost the annual football game with Colby Hall by a single touchdown. This defeat still rankled in their minds, and they were determined if possible to take the baseball game by a score that should be well worth while. And they had good reason to be hopeful of doing this. While their football team had always been considered by the other teams of that locality to be of the "second string variety," the baseball nine was a remarkably strong organization. At its head was Dink Wilsey, a pitcher who was destined at some time in the future to show himself in one of the big leagues. "Why, Dink alone can walk off with that game," was the way more than one Hixley High student had expressed himself. But more than this--Hixley High had an exceptionally good first baseman and a trio of outfielders whose batting average was high. "We're going to put it all over Colby Hall this trip," was the way the manager of the Hixley High ball club declared himself on the day previous to the match. The game was now at the second half of the sixth inning, and the score stood, Hixley High, 4; Colby Hall, 2. Colby Hall was at the bat with two men out and one man at second. It was therefore no wonder that the military academy students became anxious when Jack Rover took up his bat and walked to the plate. A home run would mean the tying of the score, and with a chance to do even better. "Take your time, Jack," said Gif Garrison, who was the manager of the nine. "Make him give you a ball just where you want it." "Watch yourself!" yelled one of the coaches to the runner at second, for the Hixley High pitcher had suddenly whirled around, sending the ball down to the second baseman. There was a quick drop by the runner, and he escaped getting caught by a few inches only. "Close shave! Watch yourself, Dan!" yelled Gif Garrison; and Dan Soppinger, at second, nodded to show that he understood, and then danced away in the direction of third base as before. The first ball pitched to Jack Rover was a slow in-curve, and he stepped back and allowed it to pass him. "Ball one!" At this decision a howl of delight went up from the followers of Colby Hall, while a corresponding groan came from Hixley High. "That's the eye!" "Better get a pair of glasses!" "Sure! The umpire must be blind! That was a perfect ball!" "Sure it was a perfect ball! That's the reason he called it a ball!" came from Andy Rover, who sat on the substitutes' bench. The second ball delivered was a fairly good one, although rather low. Jack swung at it, and high into the air spun the sphere, well back of the catcher's head. "Foul!" "Run, Billy, you can catch it!" Flinging off his mask, the Hixley High catcher rushed back toward where the ball was coming down. But it was too far away for him, and it struck slantingly on one of the back posts, rolling off toward the grandstand. "Line it out, Jack! Don't be fooling with fouls!" yelled Fred Rover. "Show 'em where the river is!" added Randy Rover. The next ball to come in was a wide out-curve, and again Jack let it pass him. "Ball two!" shouted the umpire. "That's the way to do it, Jack! Make 'em give you what you want!" With two balls against him, the noted pitcher for the high school exercised a little more care in his next delivery. He sent in a straight, swift one, directly over the outer point of the plate. It was not exactly what Jack desired, but it was good enough, and he swung at it with all his strength. Crack! And the ball went sailing directly over the head of the shortstop and into the field beyond. "Run, Jack! Run! It's good for a two-bagger!" "Leg it, Dan! Leg it for home!" "Send the ball in, Wiffles! Don't let 'em get home!" These and a hundred other cries rang out as nearly every spectator sprang to his or her feet in the excitement. Dan Soppinger, half way to third when Jack made the hit, had now touched that bag and was tearing for the home plate. In the meantime Jack, running like a deer, had passed first and was making for second. The shortstop had made a high but ineffectual jump for the ball, and now he and the fielder behind him were both after the sphere. There was a short mix-up, and then the fielder sent the ball with unerring aim toward the catcher at the home plate. "Slide, Dan, slide!" And then Dan Soppinger, running as he had never run before, dropped down and slid to the plate amid a whirl of dust, followed instantly by the ball, which landed with a thud in the catcher's mitt. "He's safe! He's safe!" "And look! Jack Rover is going to make third!" Realizing that it was too late to catch the man at the plate, the catcher threw the ball down to second. But Jack Rover had already started for third, and now he streaked along with all his might, arriving at that bag just an instant before the ball followed him. "That's the way to do it, boy! Keep it up!" "Oh, he made three bases!" cried one of the girls in the grandstand. "Isn't that just lovely?" "I told you he'd do it, Ruth," said another of the girls. "I wish my cousin Dick was coming up," remarked one of the girls. "I'm sure he would be able to help them out." "Never mind, May. He'll be coming up pretty soon," answered Ruth Stevenson. The next cadet to the bat was Walt Baxter. Walt was a good all-around player, but just at present he was not in the best of condition, having suffered from a touch of the grippe early in the season. "Bang out a homer, Walt!" sang out Andy Rover. "Never mind that, Walt. Make a safe hit and bring Jack in," said Gif Garrison. "I'll do my best," answered Walt Baxter. But it was plainly to be seen that his recent illness had rendered him somewhat nervous. He had a ball and a strike called on him, and then got another strike through a little foul that passed over one of the coaches' heads. Then Dink Wilsey passed him a slow, tantalizing ball. Walt connected with it but sent up only a pop fly, which the third baseman gathered in with ease. "Hurrah! that's the way to hold 'em down," came the cry from one of the high-school boys. "Gee, old man, it's too bad you didn't have a chance to bring that run in," remarked Gif Garrison to Jack Rover, as the latter walked in from third base. "Well, anyway, I brought Dan in," returned Jack, as cheerfully as he could. "Yes; but if you had got in that would have tied the score," went on the manager. "However, the game isn't over yet." "Over! Why, we've just begun to play!" returned Jack, with a grin. "That's the talk!" cried Andy Rover. "Colby Hall forever! Now then, boys, all together!" he yelled, turning to the grandstand. And a moment later there boomed out this refrain: "Who are we? Can't you see? Colby Hall! Dum! Dum! Dum, dum, dum! Here we come with fife and drum! Colby! Colby! Colby Hall!" And then followed a great yelling and tooting of horns and sounding of rattles. "My gracious! if they keep on I'll surely become deaf," said Martha Rover. "I think I had better retire from this game," remarked Walt Baxter, as he faced the manager. "I told you I didn't feel like going in, and now I am sure I should have kept out of it." "All right, Walt. I'll be sorry to lose you," answered Gif. And then he told Andy Rover to get ready to get into the game. With a score still 4 to 3 in their favor, Hixley High opened the seventh inning with vigor. They managed to get a man on first, and then on a sacrifice advanced him to second. Then came a two-bagger, and the play made by Colby Hall in the ending of the sixth inning was repeated by their opponents, thus making the score 5 to 3. On their part Colby Hall tried its best to score during the seventh, but was doomed to disappointment. Then came the eighth inning with a goose egg placed on the board for each nine. "Say, this begins to look bad for us," remarked Will Hendry, the fattest boy at Colby Hall. "It looks as if Hixley High was going to have a sweet revenge." In the Hixley High half of the ninth inning Dink Wilsey showed what a very good all-around player he was. The noted pitcher cracked out a home run, making the tally with ease. Fortunately this was at a time when there was no one on base, so that only one run was scored. Two men were out, and the next player knocked a fly to short, which was gathered in by Frank Newberry with ease. "Hurrah! Score another for Hixley High!" "That makes the score six to three!" "I guess this game is as good as won!" So the cries ran on among the high-school scholars and their friends. The Colby Hall contingent was, of course, much downcast, but they refused to show it, and once more the slogan of the military academy boomed forth. "Now, boys, pull yourselves together and go at 'em hammer and tongs," cried Gif Garrison. "Watch the pitcher. Don't let Dink put anything over you." Fred Rover was at the bat, and he managed to make a safe hit. He was followed by a player who made another safe hit, thus advancing Fred to second. Then came two outs, but in the mix-up Fred managed to steal to third, while the player on first got down to second. Jack Rover was now once more to the bat, and all of his friends were yelling at the top of their lungs for him to "Knock the hide off the ball!" "Send it over the back fence!" "Show 'em where the other side of the river is!" and to "Wipe up the field with Hixley High!" One ball was called, and then a strike. Then came another strike, and things began to look gloomy for Colby Hall. But then Jack got a ball exactly where he wanted it, and he swung at it with every ounce of muscle he could command. Crack! went the bat, and the sphere went sailing far down in left field. "That's the way to do it! Run, boys, run!" "Come on home, Jack!" Fred, on third, was already streaking for home, and close behind him came the player who had been on second. In the meanwhile, Jack raced to first and around to second, and then came plowing up to third. "Hold it, Rover! Hold it!" "Come on in--don't wait! Come on in!" Jack looked down into the field and saw that the fielder was just in the act of picking up the ball. With a great bound, he started for the home plate, and when ten feet from that place dropped to the ground and slid in with the rapidity of lightning. "He's safe! A home run!" "That ties the score!" "Now then, boys, go in and finish 'em up!" The din and excitement was now tremendous. The score was indeed a tie. Which club would win? CHAPTER II ABOUT THE ROVER BOYS "Now then, fellows, don't forget to bring in the winning run!" "Show Hixley High what we can do!" And then came a rousing cheer from the Colby Hall cadets, and once more they gave the well-known military academy refrain. Any ordinary pitcher might have been nervous over the prospect ahead of him; but Dink Wilsey was not one of that caliber, and he faced the next batsman as coolly as he had all of the others. Two balls were called, and then two strikes, and then two more balls, and the batsman walked to first base. "Hurrah! he's afraid to give him the kind we chew up." "Maybe he'll let the next man walk, too!" cried another. But this was not to be. The next cadet up went out on a foul, and the inning came to a sudden end. "A tie! A tie! The game is a tie!" "Now for the winning run! Hixley High!" "That's the stuff! Larsen to the bat! And, my, won't he wallop that ball!" Larsen was the Hixley High center fielder--a tall, sturdy youth with blue eyes and light hair, of Norwegian descent. He came to the plate with a "do-or-die" look on his face. He allowed two balls to pass him, only one of which, however, was called a strike. Then he made a sweep for the next ball, sending it out in a red-hot liner toward Jack. Many a young ball player would have stepped out of the way with such a red-hot variety of baseball coming his way. But not so Jack Rover. Like a flash his hands went out and he caught the ball firmly, although the impact of the sphere whirled him half way around. "Gee, look at that!" "I wouldn't have caught that ball for a thousand dollars!" A great shout of approval rang out, and during this Gif hurried over to Jack's side. "How about it--did it hurt you any?" he questioned quickly. "It stung me a little, that's all," was Jack's reply. His hands burnt like fire, but he did not intend to let anybody know it. "One down! Now for the other two!" came the cry. "Not much! Here is where we score!" But alas for the hopes of Hixley High! The next man up went out on strikes, and the fellow to follow knocked a foul which was easily gathered in by the third baseman. "Now here is where we bring home the bacon!" cried Ned Lowe, one of the Colby Hall fans. Andy Rover had been burning to distinguish himself, and now his chance came. First to the bat, he made a very neat base hit. Then, however, came an out, and the Colby Hall boys were, for a moment, downcast. But they quickly recovered when the next player made a single and Andy slid around safely to third. "Now then, a hit! Just a neat little hit!" came the entreating cry. "Oh, if only they do get it!" murmured Ruth Stevenson. "I wish Jack was at the bat." "It's my cousin Dick!" cried May Powell, and she was right--Spouter Powell was up. Spouter was not a particularly strong ball player, but he had one feature which was in his favor--he knew how to keep cool, and that helped greatly in this heart-breaking emergency. He waited calmly until two strikes and two balls had been called, and then he struck a low one, sending it just inside the first-base line. It slipped past the baseman, and as Spouter's feet crossed the bag, Fred Rover slid in safely to the home plate. "Hurrah! Hurrah! Colby Hall wins!" Then followed a wild cheering and yelling, in the midst of which the crowds on the bleachers and the grandstand broke forth to mingle with the players on the ball field. Of course, the Hixley High students were much crestfallen, yet they tried to take their defeat in good part. "Three cheers for Hixley High!" shouted Gif Garrison, and they were given with a will. Then followed a cheer from the high-school students for those of the military academy, and then the crowd started to disperse. "Oh, boys! some celebration to-night, what?" cried Randy Rover, and in the exuberance of his spirits he turned several handsprings on the grass. "You bet we'll celebrate!" exclaimed his cousin Fred. "Say! we ought to shoot off the old cannon for this," burst out Andy Rover. He referred to an ancient fieldpiece located on the front lawn of the school. "Too dangerous," interposed his cousin Jack. "That old cannon is too rusty, and it would fly into a million pieces." "Yes, but we might----" _Boom!_ It was a loud explosion coming from a considerable distance. The cadets, as well as all the others gathered on the ball field, looked at each other in surprise. "What could that have been?" questioned Fred Rover. "Sounds like a big cannon going off," answered Walt Baxter. _Boom! Boom!_ Two more explosions rent the air, both much louder than the first. The very ground seemed to be shaken by the concussion. "Say, that sounds like a warship!" "No warships around here," was the answer. "Maybe it's a German Zeppelin!" "Gee! do you suppose the Germans have come over here to bombard us?" _Boom! Boom! Boom!_ Several more explosions came now close upon the others, each explosion heavier than those which had gone before. The ground all around seemed to tremble, and those who were still in the grandstand cried out in alarm. "The grandstand is going down! Everybody jump for his life!" "Look! Look!" was the sudden cry from Jack Rover, and he pointed to a place on the opposite shore of Clearwater Lake. A dense volume of smoke was rolling skyward. Then came another tremendous explosion, and a mass of wreckage could be seen to be lifted skyward. "It's the Hasley ammunition factory going up!" cried Fred Rover. "What an awful thing to happen!" "That factory is right across the lake from our school!" cried Martha Rover. "I wonder if it will damage that place any?" "I shouldn't be surprised," answered her cousin Andy. And then he added quickly: "I hope Mary will be safe." "Oh, oh! do you think Mary is in danger?" cried Ruth Stevenson, who had just joined the others. Mary was Fred Rover's sister, who had been left behind at the girls' boarding school because she had been suffering that day with a severe headache, and had said she preferred resting to attending the ball game, even though she loved to be with the others. "There goes another building!" yelled Andy Rover, as another report rent the air. Then those who were looking down the river and across the lake saw some strange objects being hurled through the sky in the direction of Clearwater Hall. "If that whole ammunition factory starts to go up, it will certainly mean damage to the boarding school," declared Jack. "I guess the best we can do is to get down there and see if Mary is safe." "That's just what I say!" declared Fred. "I'm going to get down there just as fast as I can." And he ran off, to board one of the automobiles headed in that direction. Now, I know it will not be at all necessary to introduce the Rover boys or their friends to my old readers, but for the benefit of those who have not perused any of my former stories a few words concerning these characters will be necessary. In the first volume, entitled "The Rover Boys at School," I told how three brothers, Dick, Tom, and Sam Rover, were sent off to Putnam Hall Military Academy, where they made a great number of friends, including a youth named Lawrence Colby. From Putnam Hall the lads went to Brill College, and on leaving that institution of learning went into business in New York City with offices on Wall Street. They organized The Rover Company, of which Dick was now president, Tom secretary and general manager, and Sam treasurer. While at Putnam Hall the three Rovers had become acquainted with three very charming girls, Dora Stanhope and her two cousins, Nellie and Grace Laning, and when Dick went into business he made Dora Stanhope his lifelong partner. A short time later Tom married Nellie Laning and Sam married Grace. The three brothers purchased a fine plot of ground on Riverside Drive overlooking the noble Hudson River, and there they built three connecting houses, Dick and his family living in the middle house, with Tom on one side and Sam on the other. About a year after their marriage Dick and his wife became the proud parents of a little son, who was named John after Mr. Laning. This son was followed by a daughter, called Martha after her great-aunt Martha of Valley Brook Farm, where the older Rovers had spent many of their younger days. Little Jack, as he was commonly called, was a manly lad with many of the qualities which had made his father so well liked and so successful. It was about this time that Tom and Nellie Rover came to the front with a surprise for all of the others. This was in the shape of a pair of very lively twins, one of whom was named Anderson, after his grandfather, and the other, Randolph, after his great-uncle Randolph of Valley Brook Farm. Andy and Randy, as they were always called, were very active lads, in that particular being a second edition of their father. About the time Tom's twins were born Sam and Grace Rover came along with a beautiful little girl, whom they named Mary after Mrs. Laning. Then, a year later, the girl was followed by a sturdy boy, christened Fred after Sam Rover's old and well-known school chum, Fred Garrison. Residing so close together, the younger generation of Rover boys, as well as their sisters, were brought up very much like one family. They spent their winters usually in New York City, and during the summer often went out to Valley Brook Farm, where their grandfather, Anderson Rover, still resided with Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha. At first the boys and girls had been sent to private schools in the Metropolis; but soon the lads, led by Andy and Randy, showed such a propensity for "cutting loose" that their parents were compelled to hold a consultation. "We'll have to do as Uncle Randolph did with us," said Dick Rover. "We'll have to send them to some strict boarding school--some military academy." And to this the others had agreed. Some time previous their old school chum, Lawrence Colby, who had since become a colonel in the state militia, had opened a military academy, called Colby Hall. "We'll send them to that place," was the decision of the older Rovers. "Lawrence Colby is just the fellow to make them behave themselves, and as we are such good friends he will be sure to give them extra attention." So the boys were sent off to this school, as related in detail in the first volume of my second series, entitled "The Rover Boys at Colby Hall." This military school was located about half a mile from the town of Haven Point on Clearwater Lake, a beautiful sheet of water about two miles long and nearly half a mile wide. At the head of the lake was the Rick Rack River, running down from the hills and woods beyond. The school consisted of a large stone building, facing the river at a point not far from where the stream emptied into the lake. It was a three-storied structure, and contained the classrooms and a mess hall and also the dormitories and private rooms for the scholars. Close by was a smaller brick building, occupied by Colonel Colby and his family and some of the professors. On the opposite side was an up-to-date gymnasium, while at the water's edge were a number of small buildings used as boathouses and bathing pavilions. Behind the hall were a stable and barn, and also a garage, and further back were a large garden and several farm fields and a great athletic field where the boys played baseball in the spring and football in the fall. On arriving at Colby Hall the young Rovers had found several of their friends awaiting them, one of these being Dick Powell, the son of Songbird Powell, a former schoolmate of their fathers. Dick was always called Spouter because of his fondness for long speeches. Another was Gifford, the son of Fred Garrison, after whom Fred Rover had been named. There was also Walter Baxter, a son of Dan Baxter, who years before had been an enemy of the older Rovers, but who had now reformed and was doing very well. Before coming to Colby Hall, Jack Rover had had a quarrel in New York City with a tall, dudish youth, named Napoleon Martell. Nappy Martell, as he was called by his cronies, was a cadet at the military academy, and he and his crony, an overgrown bully named Slugger Brown, did what they could to make trouble for the Rovers. But one of their underhanded transactions was exposed, and they were sent away from the academy for the time being. As mentioned, Colby Hall was located about half a mile beyond Haven Point. On the opposite side of the town was located Clearwater Hall, a boarding school for girls. During a panic in a moving-picture theater Jack and his cousins became acquainted with a number of these girls, including Ruth Stevenson, May Powell, Alice Strobell, and Annie Larkins. They found out that May was Spouter Powell's cousin, and the whole crowd of young people soon became friends. Later on Mary and Martha Rover became pupils at the girls' school. Ruth Stevenson had an old uncle Barney, who in times past had had a bitter quarrel with Ruth's parents. The Rover boys once went out hunting, and on this occasion saved the old man's life, as related in "The Rover Boys on Snowshoe Island." For this the old man was exceedingly grateful, and as a result he invited them to spend their winter holidays on Snowshoe Island, a place which he said he owned and of which he was very proud. The boys traveled to this island and had many adventures while hunting and otherwise. They found out that the father of Slogwell Brown, always called Slugger by his comrades, was laying claim to the island. This man, backed up by Asa Lemm, a discharged teacher of Colby Hall, and backed up likewise by his son Slugger and Nappy Martell, did all he could to take possession of the property. But the Rover boys exposed the plot, and held the rascals at bay, and in the end old Barney Stevenson's claim to the land was made safe. During the time on the island Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell had stolen a tin box containing some valuable papers from the old man, and for this they had at first been threatened with arrest, but had been allowed to go when Slugger's father gave up his claim to the place. "You think you're smart, don't you?" Slugger Brown had grumbled to Jack when he was ready to depart from Snowshoe Island. "You just wait, Jack Rover! I'm not going to forget you and your cousins in a hurry!" "And I won't forget you either," Nappy Martell had added. "We'll get even with you when you least expect it." But for quite a while now none of the Rovers had seen or heard anything more of Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell. But they were destined to hear more from these two unworthies, and in a most unusual fashion. CHAPTER III THE AMMUNITION FACTORY EXPLOSIONS "Oh, I do hope Mary is safe!" cried Martha Rover, as she and the others ran toward where the automobiles which had brought them over to Colby Hall from the girls' boarding school were standing. "So far those explosions haven't reached Clearwater Hall," answered her brother Jack. "But there is no telling what a real heavy explosion may do." "That's just it!" burst out his cousin Randy. "For all we know, those Hasley people may have a large quantity of TNT or some other high explosive stored there, and if that should go up--good-night!" "It would be fierce!" "I think it's awful to allow those ammunition people to have their works so close to a town," was Ruth Stevenson's comment. _Boom! Boom!_ Two more explosions rent the air. Then followed a series of poppings like the discharge of a machine gun. "Those must be some of the small shells going off," said Andy. "Gosh, what a shame they couldn't have held this back until the Fourth of July!" he added. Andy would probably have wanted to joke at his own funeral. The Rovers and their girl friends were soon seated in the automobiles which they had used earlier in the day to bring the girls to Colby Hall. With them went as many of the other cadets and their friends as could pile into the machines or hang fast to the running boards. All of the ball players went in their baseball outfits, not taking time to change to their uniforms. The Rovers and their friends were among the first to leave the military institution, and for this reason they got away without any trouble. They had scarcely departed when Captain Mapes Dale, the military instructor attached to the school, appeared and forbade any more of the cadets to leave the grounds. "There is no telling how dangerous those explosions may become," said Captain Dale, "and Colonel Colby thinks it is best that you remain here where it is comparatively safe. Even as it is, we may have some big shells coming this way." The Hasley Shell Loading Company had been located on the opposite shore of Clearwater Lake for a number of years previous to the opening of the war in Europe. But at that time it had been only a small concern, employing but a handful of men. A year after the opening of hostilities, however, the plant had been enlarged, and now, since the entrance of the United States into the war, the force of workmen had been again doubled and many additional buildings had been erected, some along the lake front and others in the hills further back. A spur of the railroad had also been built to the plant, and on this were numerous cars, all painted to show the dangerous nature of the freight they were destined to carry. On two different occasions the Rover boys and their chums had rowed over to the vicinity of the shell-loading works to look at what was going on. Guards around the works, however, had kept them from landing or even getting within a reasonable distance of the place. This, they knew, was done because the authorities feared that some spies might try to get into the buildings with a view to blowing them up. "Gee, that certainly sounds like war!" cried Andy, as the explosions continued. There was a continual popping of small shells, punctured every now and then by a decidedly heavier explosion. "My gracious! Look at that!" burst out Jack a moment later. What the oldest Rover boy referred to was a curious explosion of a quantity of shells which seemed to go up in the form of an immense sheaf of wheat. Thousands of small objects filled the air, flying off in all directions of the compass. "I'll bet we'll get some of those over here!" exclaimed Gif Garrison, who was clinging to the running board of the machine. And he was right. Only a few seconds later several small bits of metal came down around them, two striking the hood of the automobile and one falling into the tonneau on Ruth's lap. It did not take those in the automobile long to cover the half mile which lay between them and Haven Point, where the railroad station was located. Here they found the town people in great excitement, and learned that steps were already being taken to care for any of the workmen who might be injured by the explosions. "Of course we have no idea yet how many people have been killed or wounded," declared a policeman who gave the cadets this information. "We are all upset because we don't know how bad the explosions may get. If they don't get any worse than they have been, we'll be thankful." The cadets and their girl friends did not remain long in Haven Point. All were anxious to get to Clearwater Hall, to learn if that place was much damaged. The girls' school was directly opposite the shell-loading plant, and consequently more liable to suffer than the town or Colby Hall. "Look at them getting away from that place, will you?" cried Fred, who had come as far as Haven Point on another automobile and then had rejoined his cousins. He pointed to the lake, where a number of rowboats and other craft were leaving the vicinity of the explosions. "You can't blame them for wanting to get away," returned Jack. "It may mean life or death to them." "Oh, I hope nobody has been killed!" murmured Ruth. "I'm afraid, Ruth, that's too much to expect," answered Jack soberly. "Oh, I just think war is too horrible for anything!" cried out Alice Strobell, who was along. "I just wish they could sink all those Germans in their old submarines!" declared Annie Larkins who was also in the crowd. "I guess we'd all be willing to subscribe to that!" cried Randy. "You just wait until Uncle Sam gets into this scrap," declared Jack. "We'll show 'em what's what!" "How I wish I could go to the front," said Andy wistfully. "It would beat going to school all hollow." "Now that we've gone into the war, we'll have an army over there before long," said Spouter. "I suppose they'll send some of the regulars over first, and then some of the national guard--of course taken into the regular army--and after that we'll have the volunteers. I suppose if Uncle Sam really wanted to do it, he could get together several million men without half trying. And with an army like that, properly trained and equipped, and transported to the battlefields of Europe, we shall be sure to make a showing which will throw terror into the hearts of----" "Hurrah! Spouter is off again," broke in Randy. "Say, Spout! they ought to send you to the front to help talk the Huns to death," put in Andy. "Talk about gas and gas masks----" "Aw say! you're always butting in when I've got something to say," growled the lad who loved to talk. There might have been a little friction right then and there, but another explosion came from across Clearwater Lake, and all stopped to gaze at the thick volume of yellowish-black smoke which rolled directly toward them. "The wind must be shifting," declared Jack, for all of the smoke heretofore had rolled up the lake shore. "It's too bad it is coming this way," said Ruth. "Miss Garwood declares that a good deal of smoke from such shells is poisonous." Miss Garwood was the head of the school for girls, and likewise an authority in chemistry. The road was filled with automobiles going and coming, and Randy had all he could do to send the machine along without getting into some sort of collision. The heavy smoke continued to roll across the lake, and soon they were in the midst of this. It had a curious pungent odor to it, which set them to sneezing and coughing. "No fun in this, I must say," declared Jack. The girls all had their handkerchiefs to their faces, and May Powell looked as if she was getting sick. In a minute more they came within sight of Clearwater Hall, a large structure setting back in well-kept grounds. There were numerous bushes and flowers and quite a number of fair-sized trees. Several automobiles had reached the school ahead of them so the scene was one of animation. Town people, as well as scholars from the Hixley High School, mingled with the cadets and the girls from Clearwater Hall. "Go on in and find Mary," said Jack to his sister. "Tell her we are here to help her in case anything happens." Martha rushed off, followed by Ruth, and the two soon located Fred's sister. She was in a rear room of the school, along with a number of the other pupils and one of the assistant teachers. "Oh, I'm so glad you've come!" declared Mary Rover. "What a dreadful thing this is getting to be!" "I suppose it has made your head ache worse than ever," said Martha sympathetically. "No, strange to say, it's just the other way around," declared Fred's sister, with a faint smile. "Those explosions seemed to have shocked the headache all away." Mary was glad to join the others, and the Rovers and their friends proceeded to one of the reception rooms of the school. In the meantime the explosions across the lake continued, but seemed to be gradually dying down. "It looks to me as if the worst was over," remarked Fred, after there had been comparative silence for fully a quarter of an hour. "Say, I'm going down to the lake front to see what's doing," declared Randy, a little later. "Perhaps we can be of some assistance." "That's the talk! We can't do anything more here," returned his twin. "Let's all go down!" cried Jack. "We ought to be able to do something for those poor workmen who have been hurt." And then, turning to Ruth, he continued: "If there are any more big explosions and this place seems to be in danger, we'll be back." "Oh, Jack! I don't want you to run into any danger down at the lake shore," said the girl, looking at him pleadingly with her big brown eyes. "I guess we'll be able to take care of ourselves," he answered lightly. But it pleased him a great deal to have Ruth so full of consideration for him. Leaving their automobiles in the school grounds, the Rovers and their chums left the place, crossed the highway, and followed the footpath leading down to the Clearwater Hall boathouse. Here they found only a few people congregated, the heavy-rolling clouds of smoke keeping a good many away. "Not very pleasant here," was Gif Garrison's comment, after the smoke had made him cough. "I don't think I'm going to stay." "Neither am I," said Spouter. And presently he and quite a few others left, leaving the four Rovers to themselves. "You know what I've got an idea of doing?" declared Jack. "Why not get out one of the Clearwater Hall boats and row over a little closer to that place? We may be able to be of some assistance to some of the workmen." The others were willing, and soon a large rowboat was brought out, with two pairs of oars, and the four Rovers manned it and sent it well out into the lake. "We've got to keep our eyes open in this smoke," declared Jack. "It's worse than a fog." "You're right there," returned Randy. "If some of those poor chaps----" _Boom!_ Another terrific explosion cut short what he was saying. The very water under the rowboat seemed to shake, and the air presently was filled with flying missiles dropping all around them. Then, as Andy stood up in an endeavor to get a better view of the situation, something came flying through the air, hit him on the shoulder, and hurled him overboard! CHAPTER IV A RESCUE ON THE LAKE "Andy's overboard!" "Grab him, somebody!" "Wow! what is this anyway--a bombardment?" Such were the cries coming from the three Rovers when they saw the luckless Andy lose his balance and go over into the lake with a splash. "It's fire coming down! We've got to get out of this!" cried Fred, a few seconds later. The youngest of the Rovers was right. It was indeed a rain of fire that had suddenly descended upon them through the pall of yellowish-black smoke. It was falling into the boat and on their persons. Where it struck the lake it sent out a curious hissing sound. "Come--let us get Andy aboard again and row out of this as quickly as possible!" gasped Jack. Andy had disappeared from view, but only for a few seconds. He came up, thrashing around wildly, for he had been almost stunned by the thing which had struck him, a block of wood carried up from the ammunition plant by one of the explosions. "Steady, Andy, steady! We'll save you!" called out his twin, and as Fred and Jack sent the rowboat in the luckless one's direction, Randy bent over and grabbed his brother by the hand. Then, taking care that the craft should not tip over, Fred and Randy pulled Andy aboard. "Are you much hurt?" questioned Randy anxiously. "I--I don't know," was the gasped-out reply. "I--I don't think so, though. What did you slam me in the back for?" Andy demanded of Jack, who had been behind him. "I didn't hit you. It was a block of wood which came sailing over from the ammunition factory," was the quick reply. "Come on--we've got to get out of here, or the first thing you know we'll be on fire." "Better wet your clothing," said Andy. "It may help a whole lot." This was good advice, and the others lost no time in filling their baseball caps with water, which they sprinkled over their shoulders and the other portions of their baseball outfits. They also wet down the bow and stern seats of the rowboat. Then they grabbed up their oars and commenced to row up the lake, trying to get out of the range of both the fire and the smoke. "Here is what the fire consists of," declared Fred presently, when he caught a whisp of it on his arm. "It's nothing but oil-soaked waste. They must have had a whole lot of it at that plant, and one of the explosions sent it high into the air and scattered it in every direction." The boys continued on their way for a few minutes, and then ran into another cloud of smoke. This was of a peculiar bluish-green cast, and seemed so sulphurous they were nearly choked by it. "Listen!" burst out Andy. "I think I heard somebody calling." He held up one hand for silence, and all listened attentively. In spite of the roaring of the flames, which were now devouring several of the buildings at the shell-loading plant, and the continual popping of some of the smaller shells, all heard a frantic cry for assistance. "It's somebody calling for help!" "Where is he?" "I think the cry came from over yonder," said Jack, in answer to the latter question. "Let's pull over there and see." All were willing, and the four once more bent to their oars, sending the rowboat through the bluish-green smoke, which almost choked and blinded them. "Hello there!" yelled Fred. "Where are you?" "Help! Help!" came the cry from off to their left. "Help! Save me!" The rowboat was turned in that direction, and a few seconds later the Rover boys caught sight through the smoke of a water-logged rowboat to which an elderly man, dressed in the garb of a workman, was clinging. "Help me! Help me! I can't hang on much longer!" gasped the man, as soon as he saw the boys. "Sure, we'll help you," declared Jack. "Go slow now," he cautioned his cousins. "We don't want to knock him off into the water." With care the rowboat was brought around so that they came up alongside of the elderly man. He was glad enough to turn from his water-logged craft to the other boat. But he was well-nigh exhausted, and the Rovers had not a little trouble in getting him on board. "Tell you what--I'm mighty glad you lads came along," panted the old man, when he was safe. "I couldn't have held out much longer. This is something terrible, ain't it? Say, would you mind hooking that boat fast and pulling it to shore? It belongs to me, and I ain't so wealthy that I can afford to lose it. Besides, it's got some of my things in it." "We'll take it along unless it keeps us back too much," answered Jack. And then he bent down, got hold of the bowline of the craft, and tied it fast to their stern. Fortunately the other boat was a small one, so they had not much difficulty in towing it along. "I'm a dockman over at the ammunition factory," explained the old man. "And when things began to go off I thought it was high time to get out. I tried to save a few of my things and dumped 'em into my boat and began to pull for the shore. But then one of the big explosions went off, and I got caught in a lot of smoke and a rain of I don't know what, and was nearly rendered senseless. When I came to, I had drifted along to near where you found me. Something must have hit the boat and gone through the bottom, for she was filling with water fast. Then she tipped, and I went overboard. I can't swim very well, and that confounded smoke got in my lungs, and I thought sure I would be a goner. You boys certainly came in the nick of time." "And we are glad of it," declared Fred, and the others nodded in approval. The elderly man said that his name was Jed Kessler, and that he lived on the outskirts of Haven Point. He knew very little about Colby Hall, however, for previous to being employed by the Hasley Shell Loading Company he had worked around the docks at Hixley, at one end of the lake. So much the boys learned from him when they had rowed out of the pall of smoke and the rain of fire and could breathe freely and in comfort. "Have you any idea what started that fire?" questioned Jack, when they were headed for one of the docks at Haven Point. "I've got my idea, yes. But I don't know whether it's correct or not," replied Jed Kessler. "Of course, any kind of a slight accident in a place like that might set things to going. But I know one thing, and that is very important, I think." "What is that?" questioned Randy. "The first explosion took place down the railroad track, in one of the cars loaded with shells, while the second explosion, which came less than half a minute later, occurred in one of the supply houses." "Was the supply house near the car where the first explosion happened?" queried Jack. "No. The two places are at least five hundred feet apart." "In that case, it isn't likely that the first explosion brought on the second, is it?" questioned Andy. "It didn't!" was the prompt answer. "Those two explosions had nothing to do with each other--except in one way,--and that is that they were both started by the same person or persons," declared Jed Kessler emphatically. "Gee! do you suppose there were German spies around?" ejaculated Randy. "I am sure there were," went on the old dockman. "But I supposed your guards kept all strangers away from the plant," said Jack. "They were supposed to. But you know how it is. Those fellows aren't on the watch all the time. They get tired of their job, and sometimes they take it easy. Besides that, it is rather easy to reach the plant from the water front, and it is almost equally easy to come down through the woods on the hill behind the place. Of course, we've got a big wire fence up all around, but it doesn't take much to go through that if a fellow has a good pair of wire cutters." "Did you ever see anybody suspicious?" "Lots of times. But, of course, most of the people who looked suspicious proved to be nothing but men who had an idle curiosity regarding the plant. But I saw some fellows around there two weeks ago and again a couple of days ago, and they looked mighty suspicious to me. They were a couple of heavy-set looking fellows, with strong German faces, and I heard 'em at a distance talking in a language that I'm pretty sure was German." "Why didn't you report this to the guard?" "I did. But they were a lot of fresh young fellows, and they only laughed at me and said I was too suspicious," grumbled Jed Kessler. "But that is where I made a mistake. I should have gone right to the offices and reported to the head boss." "Do you suppose you'd know those fellows again if you saw them?" questioned Jack. "I think I would--although I'm not sure. They were both fellows with heavy black hair and heavy black beards, and one of them walked with his right foot kind of turned out." "You certainly ought to report this as soon as possible," declared the oldest Rover boy. "It may furnish the authorities with an important clue. If I were you, I would get into communication with one of your bosses without delay." Leaving the old man and his rowboat at the dock, the four Rovers rowed up the lake once more in the direction of the Clearwater Hall boathouse. By this time the explosions at the shell-loading plant had practically ceased, and only a small amount of smoke was now coming from the ruins. When the Rovers arrived at the boathouse connected with the girls' school, they found that Mary and Martha had come down to the place, accompanied by a number of the other girls. All had heard that the Rovers had taken the rowboat, and were wondering if the lads were safe. "You've given us a terrible scare," declared Martha to her brother. "You shouldn't have taken such a risk!" "Well, it was worth while," answered Fred, and then told of the rescue of Jed Kessler. "Well, we've had a surprise since you went away," said Ruth Stevenson presently. "A thoroughly disagreeable surprise, too," added May Powell. "You'll never guess who was here only a few minutes ago!" "Some of our folks from New York?" questioned Jack quickly. "No such luck," answered his sister. "They were two persons we didn't care to see," said Ruth. "They were Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell!" CHAPTER V MEETING OLD ENEMIES "Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell!" The cry came from all of the Rover boys simultaneously. "What were those fellows doing here?" continued Jack. "Did they dare to speak to you?" demanded Fred. "Of course they spoke to us--you can't stop fellows like Brown and Martell from doing that," answered Ruth. "But you can be sure we gave them both the cold shoulder." "What did they want here?" questioned Jack. "I don't know what they wanted or where they came from," continued Ruth. "Their appearance gave us such a shock we didn't know what to do at first." "We were on our way from the school to the boathouse, and were just crossing the roadway when Slugger and Nappy came along in a runabout," said May. "The minute they saw us they stopped and jumped out. They asked us a whole lot of questions about how we were getting along at school and if your sisters were here." "Our sisters!" cried Fred. "What business have they got to ask about Martha and Mary?" "Of course we didn't answer their questions, and Martha and Mary had gone on ahead, so Brown and Martell didn't see them," said Ruth. "They tried to act in a friendly manner, but we gave them to understand that we wanted nothing to do with them. Then they jumped into the runabout again and drove off." "Did they go toward Haven Point?" questioned Randy. "Yes." "Those fellows certainly have their nerve with them--to show themselves anywhere near Colby Hall after what happened!" burst out Andy. "One would think they wouldn't want any of their old classmates to see them," remarked Fred. "They are not that kind," replied Jack. "Both of them are too thick-skinned to be sensitive. More than likely they have been telling their friends that we did our best to get them into trouble and that they were not to blame." "Oh, Jack! if you go back to Colby Hall by way of the town, I hope you don't get into any trouble with those horrid fellows," said his sister. "Don't worry about that, Martha," answered her brother quickly. "I'm not afraid of Slugger or Nappy either. They have got to behave themselves; otherwise we may bring up one of the old charges against them." Of course the girls wanted to know more concerning what had happened to the Rover boys while they were out on the lake, and they related many of the particulars. "And do you really think those two Germans that that Jed Kessler spoke about set fire to the munition plant?" questioned Ruth. "I don't know what to think, Ruth," answered Jack. "One thing is certain: If the first explosions weren't accidental, then they must have been due to some underhand work." During the time the boys spent with the girls at the boathouse there were no more explosions, and now the fire on the opposite shore of the lake was dying out, while only a small part of the pall of curious-colored smoke remained. "I guess it's about over," was Randy's comment. Feeling that those at Clearwater Hall would be safe, at least for the time being, the Rovers decided to return to Colby Hall, knowing that Colonel Colby and his assistants would be anxious concerning the welfare of all the cadets. Spouter and those with him had taken one automobile, but the other remained, and, bidding the girls good-bye, the Rover boys jumped into this and were soon off. Jack was at the wheel, and in spite of the numerous machines on the road, for the blowing-up of the shell-loading plant had caused great excitement for many miles around, he drove the car with considerable speed in the direction of Haven Point. "Let us stop at the town for a few minutes and find out, if we can, just how bad this affair has been," said Fred. "That's it!" returned Randy. "I'd like to know if anyone has been killed or seriously hurt." They stopped on the main street close to where were located a number of the stores and also the moving-picture theater where the cadets had first met Ruth Stevenson and her chums. "It's a pretty bad affair," said one of the storekeepers, with whom in the past the boys had done some trading. "I was just down to police headquarters, and they say there that two workmen were killed and about fifteen injured. It certainly is a rascally piece of business, and the fellows who did it ought to be strung up." "Then they are pretty certain that it is the work of some German sympathizers?" questioned Jack quickly. "They can't figure it out any other way. The boss of the plant, and likewise two of his head foremen, have been closely questioned, and they declare that every possible precaution against accidents was taken. More than that, they say that there were two separate explosions occurring almost at the same time--one down on the railroad tracks and another in a storehouse quite a distance away." "Yes, we heard that, too, from one of the dockmen of the plant," answered Fred. "He said he thought two men who looked like Germans and who had been hanging around the plant might be guilty." "Yes, I've heard that story, too. I think it was started by old Jed Kessler, wasn't it?" "That's the man," said Randy. "I think I saw those two fellows here in Haven Point," continued the storekeeper. "They were heavy-set, round-faced men, and each had heavy black hair and a heavy black beard, just as Kessler described them. They were here several times. I think they had business at one of the machine shops, although I'm not certain about that." The Rover boys spoke to several other people of the town and gathered a little additional information regarding the destruction of the shell-loading plant, and then reëntered their automobile and started once more for the military academy. With them went Bart White and Frank Newberry, who had come down to the town directly after the ball game. "It's too bad this affair had to happen just as it did," declared Bart White. "It kind of takes the shine off of our victory over Hixley High." "So it does," said Jack. "But that can't be helped." "If you put it up to the shell-loading people they would probably have been willing to postpone the blowing up indefinitely," remarked Andy dryly. "I suppose the newspapers here will be full of nothing but this affair," said Fred wistfully; "and they won't give our game with Hixley High more than a brief mention." "Oh, well, what of it?" cried Randy gaily. "We walloped 'em, and that's the main thing." "Right you are!" came in a chorus from several of the others. At one of the street corners, owing to the excitement, there was a congestion of traffic, and Jack had to bring the car to a stop. As he did this there was a sudden yell from behind, and then came a slight bump followed by a jingling of glass. "Hi, you! what do you mean by stopping so suddenly?" yelled an irate voice from the rear. "They've busted one of our headlights!" added another voice in surly tones. Those in the tonneau of the Rovers' automobile looked around quickly. "Nappy Martell and Slugger Brown!" ejaculated Fred in surprise. "They must have been following us!" added Randy quickly. "Say, I didn't know those fellows were anywhere around here!" burst out Frank Newberry. "I thought from what you fellows told us those fellows would steer clear of this vicinity," added Bart White. By this time Jack and Andy, who were on the front seat, were also looking back to see what had happened. They beheld a runabout standing close up to their own car. The collision had not been sufficient to do any more damage than to break the glass in both of the headlights of the runabout. They had struck the framework holding an extra shoe on the rear of the Rovers' car, and for this reason the other automobile had not suffered any damage whatsoever. "You fellows will pay for this damage!" grumbled Slugger Brown, who was at the wheel of the runabout. "You did it yourself," answered Bart White quickly. "You fellows had no business to stop so suddenly!" "They did it on purpose!" burst out Nappy Martell. As was usual with the youth, he was loudly dressed, wearing a light checkered suit with a cap to match and a flaming red tie. He looked somewhat dissipated. "I'll attend to this," said Jack to his cousins and the others. And without delay he leaped from the front machine and walked back to the other. "Just see what you've done, Jack Rover!" began Slugger Brown. But then the stern look in Jack's face caused him to come to a stop. "I'm glad I met you, Brown--and you too, Martell," said Jack in a low, steady voice. "I was hoping I'd see you before you had a chance to leave Haven Point." "Wanted to see us, eh?" said Slugger; and now a somewhat uneasy look took possession of his face. "Don't let him talk himself out of paying for the damage done," put in Nappy loftily. He was puffing on a cigarette and blew the smoke high into the air as he spoke. "We're not going to pay for any damage done," said Jack. "This little accident is your own fault, for you had no business to be driving so close behind our car." "We'll see about that," grumbled Slugger. "What I want to talk to you about is another matter," went on Jack, without raising his voice because he did not wish to have any outsider hear. "You took the trouble a while ago to stop at Clearwater Hall and speak to some of the young ladies attending that school." "Well, what of it? Haven't we got a right to do that if we want to?" "I guess we can speak to our lady friends any time we feel like it," added Nappy. "Both of you know very well that none of those young ladies want anything to do with you," continued Jack. "You've had your warning before. Now I want you to leave them alone." "Huh! you talk as if you were our master," growled Slugger, an ugly look coming into his eyes. "Never mind how I talk, Brown. You just listen to what I'm saying, and you mind me. If you don't, you'll get into a whole lot of trouble, just as sure as you are born." By this time Fred had also left the forward car and was standing beside Jack. "You fellows asked about my sister and about Jack's sister," said Fred. "Why did you do that?" "That's our business," answered Nappy. "I know why you did it," went on Fred quickly. "You did it because you thought you might make some sort of trouble for the girls. I know you! Jack," he continued, turning to his cousin, "I think the best thing we can do is to have them both arrested for that affair on Snowshoe Island." "You can't bring up those old things--they are past and gone!" cried Nappy Martell, his face showing sudden uneasiness. "Old Barney Stevenson agreed to let the whole matter drop provided he was allowed to remain on the island." "Oh, he's only bluffing, Nappy," broke in Slugger. "They can't do a thing, and they know it!" "We can and we will unless you leave all the girls at Clearwater Hall alone," declared Jack stoutly. "Not a one of them wants anything to do with you." "How do you know what they want?" "Because they told us." "I don't believe it, Rover." "You can suit yourself about that, Brown. But just you remember this: If you or Martell attempt to do anything in the future to annoy my relatives or any of our girl friends at that school, I'll see to it that you are punished, and punished heavily." "Say, do you know what I think?" cried Andy, who had come to the rear of the front car. "I think we ought to give them both a good licking." "It might do them both good," answered his twin. "I don't see how you fellows can show yourselves around here," remarked Frank Newberry. "After the way you acted at Colby Hall and up on Snowshoe Island I should think you'd want to keep out of sight." "What right have you got to butt in here, Frank Newberry?" cried Slugger Brown wrathfully. "I've got a good deal of right, and you know it, Brown! You and Martell were a disgrace to Colby Hall, and every cadet at the academy is aware of that fact. And I, too, know for a fact that none of the young ladies at Clearwater Hall wants to have anything to do with you." "Aw, you fellows make me tired!" growled Slugger Brown. By this time a small crowd had collected, anxious to find out how the damage to the headlights of the runabout was to be settled. Then a policeman pushed his way forward. "Any trouble here?" he asked. "No trouble that I know of," answered Jack. "I stopped my car, and this fellow came up behind me so suddenly that he smashed his headlights." "I see." The policeman turned to Slugger Brown. "Your own fault, was it?" "It was his fault! He stopped too quickly," grumbled Slugger. "But--er--I--I--won't make any complaint--at least not--not now," he said lamely. "I'll take this up later." "And we'll get what's coming to us--you see if we don't!" put in Nappy Martell. Then Slugger Brown started up the engine of his runabout, backed up a few feet, and turned out into the roadway. He ran around the nearest corner and up the road, and was soon out of sight in the distance. CHAPTER VI CELEBRATING THE BASEBALL VICTORY "He was afraid to make a complaint," was Fred's comment. "I can't understand why two such fellows should act the way they do," said Bart White. "They both come from fairly well-to-do families, and they could be really fine fellows if they wanted to." "Slugger Brown doesn't come from a very good family--at least as far as his father is concerned," answered Jack. "Mr. Brown is just as mean and dishonorable as Slugger. He was at the head of the plot to do poor Barney Stevenson out of Snowshoe Island." "Yes, and to my mind Mr. Martell is no better," added Randy. "I've heard my father talking about him several times. Martell has been in more than one shady stock transaction down in Wall Street." When the Rover boys arrived at Colby Hall they were immediately surrounded by a number of their friends, all eager to learn the particulars of what had occurred in the vicinity of the girls' boarding school. Of course the others who had come in ahead of them had already told their stories, but everybody at the military academy was eager to get all the details possible. "It's the worst calamity that ever happened around here," said Will Hendry, the stoutest boy in the school, and who was generally called Fatty. Hendry had started to leave the school grounds shortly after the others had gone, but had been stopped by Captain Dale. "It looks to me as if it was the work of German sympathizers," said Major Ralph Mason, who was the cadet at the head of the school battalion. Ralph was the oldest student at the Hall, and one who was greatly liked by everybody. "Ralph, what do you think about our getting into this war in Europe?" questioned Randy. During off hours the young officer was always addressed by the Rovers by his first name, although during school hours and when on parade they invariably addressed the young major by his official title. "I'm glad we've got into it at last," returned Ralph Mason. "My father thinks we should have gotten into it long ago. I only wish one thing," he added wistfully. "And I know what that is!" cried Jack. "You wish you were old enough to volunteer for the army or the navy!" "If we were all older what a grand company of volunteers the Government could get out of Colby Hall," said Randy. "I'll wager more than half of the fellows would want to go." "I'm certain fellows like Codfish wouldn't want to go," remarked Fred. He referred to one of the younger boys, Henry Stowell by name, a lad who was a good deal of a sneak and who in time past had been a toady to Brown and Martell. On account of the great width of his mouth, Stowell was usually called Codfish. "If you fellows will keep a secret, I'll tell you something," remarked Ralph Mason, lowering his voice. "I just heard of this a while ago." "What is it, Ralph?" questioned Jack quietly. "Will you fellows keep it to yourselves until it becomes public property?" asked the young major anxiously. "Sure!" was the prompt response. "I overheard the talk quite by accident while I was in the library. Colonel Colby was talking to Professors Grawson and Brice. He stated that he intended to leave the Hall under the management of Captain Dale." "You mean Colonel Colby is going away?" questioned Fred. "Where to?" "He has offered his services to the Government." "Hurrah for the colonel! I knew he'd do something like that!" cried Randy. "Do you know whether his offer has been accepted?" questioned Jack. "Of course his offer will be accepted," answered Ralph Mason. "Now that we are in this great war Uncle Sam will need all the soldiers he can possibly muster, and of course they've got to have first-class men like Colonel Colby to command them." "You're right there," said Fred. Then he looked questioningly at Jack and the twins. The others understood that look, but just then nothing was said concerning the thought which had rushed into their minds. "I've got to go now," said Ralph Mason, a few minutes later. "I suppose you fellows will want to celebrate that baseball victory to-night?" "Surest thing you know!" declared Jack. "I don't suppose we'll have as much fun as we would have had if the shell-loading plant hadn't gone up," grumbled Andy. "We can't make any such noise as that." "Oh, we'll have fun enough--don't worry about that," answered his twin quickly. "Well, don't tear the old Hall down," returned the young major, laughing, and then hurried away. "This certainly is great news about Colonel Colby's volunteering for the army," said Jack, a little later. "I wonder why Captain Dale doesn't volunteer, too?" said Andy. "Oh, he's too old; and besides he's somewhat crippled by rheumatism or something," said Randy. The Rover boys hurried off to their room to get into their cadet uniforms. The twins went on ahead, leaving Jack and Fred alone for the time being. "Jack, what do you think our fathers will do?" questioned Fred. He remembered that both Jack's father and his own had at one time been officers of the cadets at Putnam Hall. The fun-loving father of the twins had never aspired to such a position, being content to remain "a high private in the rear rank," as he himself had often expressed it. "I'm sure I don't know, Fred," was the sober reply. "It may be that they will be just as anxious to get into the war as Colonel Colby seems to be. But you must remember that they are at the head of The Rover Company, and possibly they won't be able to leave--at least not right away." "But they are so patriotic they'll want to go," declared Fred. "Well, if they make up their minds to go, I guess we'll be among the first to hear about it." "Gee, how I'd like to be a soldier boy!" sighed Fred. "Wouldn't it be great if all of us cadets could go into the army?" "We'll have to wait four or five years before we can do that, Fred. And I rather think that by that time this great war will be over." "Oh, you can't tell how long a war like this will last. For all you know the Germans may come right over here." "I don't think they'll do that. They'll have their hands full fighting in Europe." "Well, they've sent their submarines over here already." "I know that. But I don't think they've got enough submarines to transport an army that way." Since coming to Colby Hall the Rover boys had occupied four very pleasant rooms on the second floor in a wing of the great building. But instead of using the four rooms for bedrooms, the twins slept together and all used one of the extra rooms, No. 20, for a sitting-room. "You fellows have got to hurry up or you'll be late for roll call!" cried Randy, when he entered. "Oh, I think they'll give us a little leeway on account of all the excitement," returned Fred. And he was right,--the roll call and drill were postponed for half an hour, for which many of the cadets were thankful. It did not take the Rovers long to throw off their baseball togs, wash, and don their uniforms. Then they lost no time in rushing below to the gun rack and obtaining their rifles, doing this just as the drums rattled on the parade ground. Soon the battalion of several companies was examined, and then began the roll call. After this there was a brief inspection by Captain Dale, with Colonel Colby looking on. Then the drums rattled and the fifes struck up a lively march air, and the cadets marched around the grounds, disposed of their rifles, and entered the mess hall of the institution. Here each had his place assigned to him at one of the long tables, each table presided over by one of the officers or a teacher. The meal was a substantial one, for Colonel Colby believed in treating his pupils well, and it is perhaps needless to state that all of the cadets fell to with vigor. There was a constant clatter of forks and knives, mingled with a flow of lively conversation, carried on, however, in rather a subdued tone, for boisterousness of any sort in the mess hall was against regulations. After each lad finished he excused himself and left the hall, and soon all of them had scattered in various directions. "Bonfires to-night!" announced Andy gaily, as he turned a handspring on the campus. "I think we ought to have some sort of feast," said Fred. "Great Cæsar, Fred! didn't you get enough to eat at supper?" queried Jack. "Oh, you know what I mean--a little something to eat just before we go to bed!" answered his cousin. "Suits me!" was the cry from the others. Talk about the victory over Hixley High and about the excitement attending the destruction of the shell-loading plant filled the air. The cadets were only boys, and the facts regarding the awful occurrence across the lake could not subdue their high spirits when they considered their great victory over the high school. "We've just got to celebrate and let off steam somehow," was the way Randy expressed himself. Boxes and barrels had already been stored away in anticipation of a victory, and these were promptly brought forth and placed on the river front. They were piled as high as possible and then set on fire, the flames shooting skyward quickly and illuminating the scene for a long distance around. "Hello there, Codfish!" cried Andy gaily, when he beheld the sneak of the school standing not far from one of the bonfires. "Got any more boxes to put on the fire, Codfish?" questioned Randy, who was beside his twin. "I haven't got any boxes," grumbled the young cadet. Since the departure of Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell from the Hall, Codfish had kept a good deal to himself. But he was as much of a sneak as ever, and did many mean things which were exceedingly irritating to the other cadets. "You haven't any boxes?" said Randy, in apparent surprise. "What's the use of talking like that? You know better;" and then he winked at his brother. "I'm on," whispered Andy quickly. "Bring him up to his room in about ten minutes." And then he ran away at top speed. "It's a waste of good money to burn up boxes and barrels like that," was Codfish's comment. "I don't see why Colonel Colby allows it. Those boxes and barrels could be used to pack all sorts of things in." "Well, if you don't like to see the boxes and barrels burned up, why don't you furnish us with a little cord wood?" inquired Gif Garrison, who had come up. "That's the talk!" said Jack quickly. "Show us where you've got your cord wood stored, Codfish," he went on, after Randy had whispered in his ear. Then Randy ran off in the direction his twin had taken. "I haven't any cord wood, I tell you!" stormed Codfish. "And I haven't any boxes or barrels, either!" and then he walked away to get clear of his tormentors. But Jack remembered what Randy had said to him, and did not allow Codfish out of his sight. He kept the sneak in view, and quickly gathered Spouter, Gif, Fatty, Walt, and a number of others around him. "We're going to take Codfish up to his room in a few minutes and treat him to the surprise of his life," he explained. "Don't forget to come along and see the fun." CHAPTER VII FUN WITH CODFISH The idea of having a little fun with Codfish had occurred to Andy and Randy on the day previous, when they had been out collecting some boxes and barrels for the bonfires which they hoped to have--provided, of course, that Hixley High was beaten in the baseball contest. They had talked the matter over for some time, and had then set to work, laying their plans to give the sneak of the school the surprise of his life. "What's doing, Jack?" questioned Walt Baxter, in some surprise. "Going to put one over on Codfish?" questioned Gif. "Just you wait and see," announced Jack. And then, turning to Spouter, he continued: "In about five minutes I wish you would go over to Codfish and tell him somebody wants to see him up in his room without delay. Put it to him good and strong so that he goes up at once." "Trust me for that," answered Spouter, with a grin. "I'll tell him his grandfather has just died and the lawyer is up there waiting to hand him an inheritance of a million dollars." "Don't pile it on as thick as that!" cried Fred. "If you do, he'll take it for another joke, and won't go at all." All of the crowd kept their eyes on Codfish, and when the time was up Spouter approached Stowell as if in a great hurry. "I say, Henry," he said in an earnest voice, "there's a man wants to see you. They just sent him up to your room." "To see me! What for?" questioned Codfish in surprise. "I don't know. He seemed to be a very nice man, though. He was in a great hurry. You had better not keep him waiting. He said it was very important," and without waiting to be questioned further, Spouter hurried away. Codfish looked after the other cadet rather doubtfully, and stood still for a moment. Then, however, his curiosity got the better of him, and he hurried off in the direction of the Hall. "Come on, fellows!" cried Jack in a low voice. "But don't let him suspect that you are following him, or it may spoil the fun." Stowell entered the school by a side door and ran up the nearest stairway to the main corridor above. The others hastened around to the front entrance and came up by another staircase. They were just in time to see the sneak hurrying into the room he occupied. "Hist!" came in a low voice from the other end of the corridor, after the door had closed upon Codfish, and then from a shadowy recess Andy and Randy appeared. "Did you get everything fixed up?" questioned Jack hurriedly. "All fixed," answered Andy laconically. "Come on in here," and he motioned to a room next to that occupied by Stowell. This belonged to a student who, for the time being, was away from the school. Once inside of this room, Randy and Andy took the others to where there was a door connecting that apartment with the one occupied by the sneak. This was partly open, so that they could look into Stowell's room with ease. "Hello there!" they heard the sneak exclaim. And then followed the switching on of an electric light. "It's only one of their rotten jokes! I knew it all along!" murmured the cadet. He looked around the room, and then a cry of astonishment burst from his lips. In the center of the floor were piled at least ten boxes of various sizes and shapes. Some of the boxes had had straw in them and others excelsior, and part of this was strewn on the floor. "Huh! Some of those fellows are mighty smart, putting these boxes in my room!" growled Codfish to himself. "I'd just like to know who did it! If it was that Spouter Powell, I think I'll go and tell on him!" "Here is where I got in fine!" murmured Spouter. Codfish glanced further, and his eyes fell on the interior of the closet of the room, the door to which stood wide open. Then he gave a gasp. "My gracious! if they haven't taken all my clothing, and my hats, and even my shoes!" he groaned. "This is the worst yet!" He rushed to the closet, and another look convinced him that the place was entirely empty. Then he ran to a corner where stood a clothes tree, which had contained some of his athletic outfit. This was likewise empty. Then he rushed to his chiffonier. "Gone! Everything gone! Not a thing left!" he groaned. "Oh, if this isn't the worst yet! If I don't tell on somebody for this!" Coming back to the middle of the room, he surveyed the pile of boxes suspiciously. Then a sheet of paper resting on the top box claimed his attention. "'For anything that is missing look in the boxes,'" he read from the slip of paper. "Oh, dear! I suppose those fellows were just mean enough to stuff all my things in those packing cases. I wonder what they did that for? Maybe they thought they were going to cart them down to the bonfire and burn them up, and burn all my stuff, too. Just wait and see if I don't fix somebody for this!" There was rather a small box on top of the others, and this Codfish started to open first. One end of the lid was nailed down, but the other was loose, and he pulled up on this with vigor. And then the sneak got the first of a series of surprises. The lid of the box held down a large rubber frog, and this bounced out of the box, hitting him full in the face. He staggered back and fell over on his bed. "Hurrah! First round!" whispered Andy delightedly. "Just wait for the second," said Randy. There was nothing else in the box but excelsior, and having rummaged about in this, Codfish threw the box aside and started to investigate the next receptacle. The lid to this was screwed on, and he had quite a job opening it. The other cadets watched with interest, doing their best to keep from laughing. When the box was opened, Codfish found that it contained a layer of excelsior. Under this, however, were a number of bundles wrapped in newspapers, each containing a small portion of the stuff taken from his chiffonier. "Huh! thought they were smart, didn't they?" he muttered, as he put the things where they belonged. "Just wait! I'll fix 'em for this." The next box contained some of his clothing, which he hung in the closet. Then he tackled a rather large box which was bound up with an old clothesline. He had to tug at the line quite a little to get it loose, not thinking in his excitement that it would be easier to cut the line. The top of the box was filled with all sorts of rubbish. Beneath this were some more of his things, and then at the very bottom a rather small wooden box with a sliding cover. Any ordinary school boy would have suspected some trick in connection with this box. But not so Codfish. He looked at it carefully, and then, bringing it close under the light, proceeded to pull the sliding cover back. And then he was treated to another surprise, this time far more disagreeable than the other. The box contained a large codfish, one which, as Andy afterwards explained, had seen better days. "Phew, what a smell!" cried the sneak, as he allowed the decayed codfish to fall out on the floor. The odor when released from the air-tight box was so overpowering that he had to go over and throw open the window. "Codfish for the Codfish!" sang out Andy gaily, unable to keep quiet any longer. The sneak of the school whirled around suddenly, and there beheld in the doorway of the next room the Rover boys and their chums in a group, all grinning at him. "How'd you like the fish, Codfish?" questioned Fred. "Thought you said you didn't have any boxes in your room," came from Jack. "I didn't know you were raising frogs for a living," remarked Randy. "Why don't you take those boxes down and put them on the bonfire?" questioned Gif. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself--littering up your room with all that straw and excelsior," was Walt's comment. "If you aren't careful, you'll get some mighty bad marks for doing that." "What did you do with the man who wanted to see you?" questioned Spouter. "Did you tell him that you were too busy to talk?" "You're a fine bunch of fellows!" howled Codfish, not knowing what to say. "You had no business to play a trick like this on me!" "Play a trick on you?" questioned Andy innocently. "Who has been playing a trick? Why, we don't know what it is to do anything like that!" "I think somebody said you wanted to see us, but I don't know what for," added Randy. "If anybody should ask me, I would say you had a queer way of cleaning house, Codfish," remarked Fred calmly. "And to think he stole one of the codfish from the pantry!" said Jack. "By the way it smells, he must have taken it the day he enrolled here." "Maybe he likes codfish good and strong," suggested Gif. "I'll 'codfish' you fellows if you don't leave me alone!" howled the sneak. He was so vexed he almost felt like crying. "You just wait till Colonel Colby or Captain Dale hears about this!" "Yes, I wonder what the colonel will say when he finds out you stole one of the codfish belonging to the school," said Andy. "You oughtn't to have done it, Henry, my boy. If you wanted anything to eat, why didn't you ask one of the teachers for it?" "Maybe he chews on codfish in the middle of the night when he can't sleep, or when he is trying to solve a problem in algebra," suggested Randy. "I don't do any such thing, and I didn't take that codfish from the pantry, and you know it!" howled Codfish, in anger. "It's a put-up job, and you are the fellows who did it! All of you ought to be sent away from this school." "If he took a codfish, maybe he took some other things, too," said Jack. "I think this ought to be investigated." "And how did you happen to get all these boxes?" demanded Fred. "I know them. They were collected for the bonfire some days ago." "You certainly have no right to have them in your room, Codfish," said Gif. "Better hustle 'em down and put 'em on the fire before the rest of the fellows hear of this." "And if you've got things belonging to the school victuals besides that codfish, you'd better fork 'em over," admonished Jack. "You clear out, every one of you! I don't want to hear another word!" screamed Codfish, in a rage. "You just wait until I report you! I think you're all too mean for anything! Go on away!" And he tried to close the door to the other room in their faces. But they held it back so he could do nothing. "Come on, fellows, let's put those boxes where they belong!" cried Jack. And, marching into the room, he picked up one of the packing cases, and the others quickly followed suit. Then they marched out into the hallway, leaving Codfish staring after them in bewilderment. "I know you've got some other things belonging to the school besides that fish!" cried Andy. "You've got the pockets of your overcoat just stuffed with good things!" "Haven't any such thing!" declared the sneak. And then, struck by a sudden idea, he ran to the clothing closet and brought forth his overcoat, which had been in one of the boxes. He rammed his hand into one of the pockets, and then suddenly withdrew it with a yell of fright and pain. And his fright and pain were not without good reason, for clinging to the thumb of the hand he had inserted into the pocket of the overcoat was a small, but exceedingly active, snapping turtle! CHAPTER VIII AN INTERRUPTED FEAST "Oh, oh, oh!" yelled Codfish, dancing around the room wildly. "Take that thing off! Oh, I'll be bitten to death! Take it off, somebody! What is it, anyhow?" "Hello! Codfish has been fishing," cried Andy gaily. "Maybe he got that from the cook's pantry, too," broke in Randy. "What's the dear creature's name, Codfish?" questioned Fred. "You haven't got to let go of him if you don't want to, you know," came from Jack. All this while the sneak of the school was dancing around the room, doing his best to shake off the snapping turtle. But the creature, though small, had a hold that was very tenacious, and refused to budge. "Say, he won't be seriously bitten, will he?" questioned Spouter, in a low tone. "No, it's only a baby snapping turtle," answered Andy slowly. "Codfish is far more scared than hurt." The sneak of the school was so frightened that he did not dare to take hold of the snapping turtle. He held the creature out at arm's length and continued to dance around, asking the others to take it off. "He'll eat my finger!" "Put it in some water and it will let go quick enough," suggested Fred presently. "Yes, give him a chance to swim around in a bathtub," added Randy quickly, when he saw Stowell make a move toward the washbowl in one corner of the room. "That isn't big enough for a good healthy turtle." "Oh, oh! I'll have the law on you for this!" yelled the sneak, and then bolted for the door and ran down the corridor in the direction of the nearest bathroom. As it happened, at that moment Job Plunger, the school janitor, was coming along the corridor carrying an armful of old magazines which he had been ordered to store away in the attic. As my old readers know, Plunger, who had been nicknamed "Shout," was quite deaf, and with eyes in another direction he did not see Codfish coming. The two collided violently, and the janitor was sent over backward, scattering the magazines in all directions, while Codfish came down on top of him. "Hi you! what you mean by knockin' me down that way?" shrilled the janitor, when he could regain his breath. "I--I didn't mean to do it," stammered the sneak, as he arose to his feet. "I was in a hurry." "You ain't got no right to race through these halls like a crazy horse," went on Plunger. "I ought to report you." "I told you I was in a hurry," explained Codfish. "Worry?" queried Plunger, not hearing aright. "Ain't I got a right to worry if a feller like you sends me sprawlin'?" "I didn't say worry--I said I was in a hurry. A snapping turtle had me by the finger, and I wanted to get rid of it." "Rappin'! Well, you ain't goin' to rap me. I'll let you know that!" growled the deaf janitor. "I said snapping--not rapping--a snapping turtle!" Codfish put his mouth close to the janitor's ear. "_A snapping turtle!_" "What's that? No, I ain't got no snappin' turtle. What would I be doin' with a snappin' turtle?" queried Plunger blankly. "I said I had one here--on my thumb!" cried Codfish. "It's gone now. I guess my fall knocked it off," and he looked around in the rather dim corridor to see what had become of the turtle, but without locating the creature. "I'm off, am I?" snarled Plunger, who had been asked that day to do a large amount of extra work by the cadets, and was consequently in no good humor. "I ain't half as much off as you are, you young rascal!" He grabbed Codfish by the arm. "You jest pick up them magazines and put 'em in my arms ag'in, or I'll report you." At this the sneak muttered something under his breath. But he was afraid of the deaf janitor, and so he began to pick up the various magazines that had been scattered around and piled them high in Plunger's arms. While he was doing this, he continued to look around for the snapping turtle, but the little creature had disappeared. "Now you be careful after this," said Plunger, when the task of gathering up the scattered magazines had been completed. "After this when you want to run through the halls, you walk!" And then he continued on his way. The Rovers and their chums had witnessed the scene in the corridor, but as soon as Stowell turned to come back to his room they ran off and down a side stairs, carrying the packing cases with them. "Say, but that was rich--the way he thumped into Shout," was Andy's comment. "Yes, and the way Shout took him up for what he said," returned Randy. "Gosh! it seems to me as if poor old Shout is getting deafer every day." "I wonder what became of the snapping turtle," said Fred. "If they fell on it, they must have crushed the poor creature," returned Jack. The boxes were soon placed on the various bonfires, and then the boys mingled with the other students in having a good time generally. The cadets sang songs and danced around the fires, and then organized an impromptu parade up and down the river front and around the Hall. "How about that little feast we were going to have before we went to bed?" questioned Randy presently. "Just what I was thinking about," answered Fred. "I'd like to have it first rate; but where are we going to get the eats?" "Perhaps we can get something from the Hall pantry," suggested Jack. "Nothing doing in that direction," came from Ned Lowe, who was present. "What makes you say that?" questioned Spouter. "Bart White and I tried it a little while ago, and everything is locked up as tight as a drum. I guess the head cook and the head waiter got on to the fact that we might make a raid." "Then there is only one other thing to do," said Randy quickly. "And that is to go down to town for something." "That would be easy enough, especially if we could get some one on the road to give us a lift," said Jack. The Rovers and their chums talked the matter over for several minutes, and then it was decided that Jack, Fred, Spouter, and Gif would pay a hurried visit to Haven Point, bringing back with them such good things as they could pick up quickly in the stores and carry back. A cap was passed around, and eight dollars was collected for the proposed feast. The cadets who had been selected as a committee lost no time in leaving the school grounds, and then hurried off down the road leading to the town. "Let's watch our chance for a ride," said Jack. "We don't want to waste any time on this trip." He had scarcely spoken when they heard the rumble of a truck approaching. It was a motor truck belonging to a dairy company doing business in Haven Point and other towns around the lake. "Hello there! Give us a ride into town, will you?" questioned Fred of the driver, as the truck came to a halt at their signal. "Sure! Climb on board," said the good-natured driver. He had only a small load and was glad of their company, feeling sure that they would treat him well for the accommodation. By means of the truck it did not take the cadets long to reach the town, and there they left the driver, Jack tossing him a quarter for his kindness. Then the lads hurried to such of the stores as were still open. They had already made up their minds as to what they wanted if the things could be obtained. At a delicatessen store they purchased a pasteboard box lined with waxed paper and filled with chicken salad, and also some ham and tongue sandwiches. Then they rushed into a bakeshop, the proprietor of which was just closing, and purchased several layer cakes and also a generous supply of ginger snaps. Then they hurried to a confectionery, and there obtained some bottled soda water and ginger ale, and likewise several quarts of ice-cream. "Now I guess we're pretty well fixed for a little spread," declared Jack, when they were once more on the street, each loaded with several bundles. "I hope we can get a ride back to the school," said Fred. "These bundles are pretty heavy." "I've got an idea," said Andy. "See that automobile yonder? Well, that belongs to the man who owns the moving-picture theater. There he is in front of his place. I wonder if he wouldn't let his chauffeur run us down to the Hall? He knows all the boys at the Hall are pretty good customers at his show place." "It wouldn't do any harm to ask him, Andy," answered his cousin. The crowd crossed the street and was soon interviewing the owner of the moving-picture theater. He had seen the boys there a number of times, and remembered them, and was keenly alive to anything that might aid his business. "Sure, my man can run you down to the school," he said readily. "Here he is now." He turned to his colored chauffeur. "Joe, take these young gentlemen to Colby Hall and then come back here just as soon as you can." The run to Colby Hall in the automobile took but a few minutes, and the driver very condescendingly agreed to take them around to the rear entrance of the building. The cadets paid him for his trip, and then lost no time in sneaking what they had bought up a back stairway and into the rooms occupied by the Rovers. By this time the celebration over the defeat of Hixley High had about come to an end. The cadets were disappearing in all directions, some going to their rooms and others to the library of the school, a large room which was often used as a general meeting place. Word had been passed around to a number of others, so that a crowd of about a dozen assembled in the Rovers' rooms to take part in the feast. "I'll tell you one thing we ought to do," said Randy. "We ought to square ourselves somehow with Codfish. Otherwise he may be just mean enough to give us away." "I guess I can fix it for you," said Ned Lowe, who in the past had been a bit more friendly with the sneak than any of the others present. "Just give me a plate of ice-cream and a piece of cake, and I'll go and smooth it over with the little sneak." "Go ahead and do it, by all means, Ned," answered Andy quickly. "I don't begrudge the little sneak a bit of something good. It will make him forget how his thumb hurts." Ned soon departed with the ice-cream and cake, and then the others passed around the food which had been provided. They had brought along some paper dishes and paper drinking cups, and likewise a few tin spoons, and the boys made themselves comfortable on various chairs and on the beds. "It's all right," said Ned, when he returned. "Codfish was sitting by the window in his room wondering what he was going to do. He was suspicious at first, thinking there was some trick about the ice-cream or the cake, but when he found it was all right he felt better, and he has promised to keep quiet. But just the same, we'll have to keep quiet ourselves in here, or we'll get into trouble. I just heard the professors going around giving orders that the celebration was now over and everybody would have to turn in." With such healthy appetites as all of the cadets possessed, the good things to eat and drink disappeared as if by magic. Some of the boys wanted to sing, but this had to be tabooed. Spouter, however, was called on to make a little speech, much to his delight. "It's a grand occasion," he began. "A grand and glorious occasion, and one which will live long in the memory of those attending this school. In years to come we can point with great pride to our baseball association and how, in spite of the fact that our opponents possessed a pitcher whose renown had traveled for many miles, and an outfield which was classed as second to none in this district, yet our invincible heroes----" "Hurrah! Hurrah! That's the stuff, Spouter!" interrupted Andy. "Did you say invisible heroes?" queried Randy. "I did not," snorted Spouter. "I said our invincible heroes. And as I was about to further remark, our invincible heroes covered themselves with a glory which will ever remain as a bright guiding star to this glorious school, and when in days to come----" "How do you know the days are to come?" questioned Andy. "Maybe the days will go." "Stop your interrupting!" cried the young speechmaker. "And in the days to come----" he repeated, "and in the days to come--er--we shall, in the days to come----" "Great Cæsar, Spouter! how long are those days coming?" queried Randy. "Say, how can a fellow make a speech if you're going to interrupt him all the time?" cried Spouter. "If you want to listen to what I've got to say----" At this moment came another interruption, but not from any of the others present. There was a loud knock on the door, something which brought all of the cadets to their feet in alarm. CHAPTER IX A TELEGRAM FROM HOME "I'll bet it's one of the professors!" whispered Fred. "Just our confounded luck!" grumbled Andy. "And when we were having such a dandy time!" added his twin. "Say, you fellows get that stuff out of sight, and be quick about it!" commanded Jack in a low tone of voice. "Take everything into the other rooms." With alacrity the cadets removed all traces of the spread, placing the empty soda-water bottles and ginger-ale bottles and other things in a closet and in the adjoining rooms. "Now you outside fellows get into the other rooms, and hide in the closets if necessary," said Jack. "I'll stay here with my cousins." The knock on the door had been repeated several times, and Jack had answered in a sleepy voice that he was coming. Then, when all was ready, he threw the door open--to find himself confronted, not by one of the professors, as he had expected, but by Bob Nixon, a fellow who was employed as a chauffeur and a general man of all work around the school. "You must sleep pretty sound," announced Nixon good-naturedly. "I thought I'd have to knock the door down to make you hear." "I told you I was coming, Nixon," answered Jack. "What do you want?" "Got a telegram for you," answered the man curtly. "Professor Brice asked me to bring it up to you. Say, you fellows certainly did trim up Hixley High to-day, didn't you?" the chauffeur went on, grinning. "You're right we did!" answered Jack. He was immensely relieved to think it was not one of the professors come to spoil their feast. "Where is the telegram?" "Here you are," and Nixon held it forth. "Any charges?" "No; it's a prepaid telegram. It was delivered with another one for Colonel Colby. He signed for it, thinking you might be asleep. I hope you haven't got any bad news." "I hope so myself," answered Jack. His heart had given a little jump on first receiving the news, thinking that possibly something had happened at home. He lost no time in opening the envelope, and while he did this Fred and the twins crowded around him. The telegram was from Jack's father, and read as follows: "Your Uncle Sam and I have volunteered for the army. We have both received commissions. Tell Fred of this and break the news gently to Mary and Martha. Uncle Tom will manage business and remain head of Liberty Loan Committee. Colonel Colby will tell you more. "RICHARD ROVER." "What is it?" queried Fred. "It's great news, Fred; especially for you and for me," answered Jack, whose eyes had traveled swiftly over the telegram. Then he read the message aloud. Bob Nixon had retired, and Randy had closed the door after him. "Well, what do you know about that!" ejaculated Fred. "My father in the army! Good for him!" "And to think my father is going, too!" remarked the oldest of the Rover boys. "And he also has a commission." He looked at Andy and Randy and wanted to go on, but somehow could not. "And they are going to make our father remain at home and take care of the business," remarked Randy soberly. "That's what I call tough luck!" "It sure is!" declared his twin emphatically. "I'll wager he wanted to go to the front just as much as anybody." "Why, of course he did," answered Jack readily. "Uncle Tom is just as brave as anybody! We all know that!" burst out Fred. "It was only that somebody had to stay in New York and take care of The Rover Company." "Of course our dad was never as much of a soldier as your fathers," continued Randy. "He never became an officer at Putnam Hall. Just the same, I'll wager he'd like to have a chance to put one over on the Huns." By this time the other cadets had come from their various hiding places and were listening with much interest to what was being said. "It certainly is great news!" declared Gif Garrison. "I wonder if my dad will want to go, too?" He knew that his parent and the older Rovers had been great chums. "They leave us to break the news to Mary and Martha," said Fred. "That isn't going to be a very nice job. I'm afraid the poor girls will be all broke up." "I can't see it that way," answered Jack. "They ought to feel proud to think our fathers are brave enough to volunteer." "The telegram says that Colonel Colby will tell you more about this," said Randy. "Why don't you go over and interview him?" "Maybe he has gone to bed," suggested Spouter. "I don't think so--not if he was up to receive that telegram Nixon mentioned," said Jack. "Anyhow, I'm going down and find out. Do you want to come along, Fred?" "Sure!" was the instant response. "Find out if the colonel knows anything about my father," said Randy. And then he added to his brother: "We can stay here and get rid of the remains of this feast." "All right," was Andy's answer. And then he added in a low tone. "Just the same, I can't understand why dad didn't volunteer along with Uncle Dick and Uncle Sam," and his face wore anything but a pleasant expression. Leaving the others to dispose of what remained of the feast as they saw fit, Jack and Fred brushed up a bit, and then lost no time in hurrying downstairs and to the main entrance of Colby Hall. Here they found a night watchman on guard. "You can't go out this time of night," said the watchman, following orders. "We have just received this telegram," answered Jack, showing the yellow slip; "and we must confer with Colonel Colby at once. The telegram states that he can give us some information we want." "Oh, all right, if that's the case," said the watchman, and allowed them to pass. As stated before, the colonel and his family, along with a number of the professors, lived in a building some distance away from the Hall proper. Crossing the campus, the boys noted a light in the colonel's library, and presented themselves at the door of this place, and knocked. "Come in," called out Colonel Colby. They found the head of Colby Hall seated at his desk, looking over a number of private papers and accounts. He looked up questioningly, and then smiled as he recognized his visitors. "Got your news from home, I suppose," he said, after motioning them to seats. "I knew it was coming." "It's great news, Colonel Colby!" cried Jack, his eyes shining. "Here is the telegram. You see it says you will give us more information. Of course, both Fred and I are curious to know all the particulars." "I'll be glad to tell you all I can, boys," answered Colonel Colby. "And first of all let me say that I have also volunteered, and I, too, have been commissioned." "Isn't that fine!" exclaimed Fred. "Are you going with our fathers?" "Yes. And I may as well tell you a little secret. Quite a crowd of us, all former pupils of Putnam Hall, have volunteered, and we hope to go into the war together." "May I ask what sort of commission my father obtained?" questioned Jack. "He has been made a captain and your Uncle Sam has been made a lieutenant." "A lieutenant!" said Fred. "Well, that's something anyhow!" "And what about you, if I may ask?" continued Jack. "I, too, have been made a captain." "Who of the others of the Old Guard are going?" asked Fred. "Oh, there are quite a number, including Harry Blossom, Bart Conners, Dave Kearney, and Hans Mueller." "For gracious sake! you don't mean that Hans Mueller is going?" queried Jack. He had often heard of this German-American who had been a school chum of his father. Mueller had never learned to use the English language correctly, and had been intensely German in many of his ways. "Yes, Hans Mueller has volunteered," answered Colonel Colby. "But he is going into the heavy artillery, so I'm afraid your fathers and I won't see very much of him. In spite of his German blood, Hans Mueller is very patriotic, and that counts for a good deal." "I should say it did!" said Fred. "And what about Mr. Powell and Mr. Garrison?" questioned Jack. "We have been corresponding with those two gentlemen, but up to to-day have not heard what they have decided to do. We are hoping that they will go with us if they can leave their business. And that puts me in mind. You will probably want to know about your Uncle Tom, and I presume the twins would like to know, too." "Yes, indeed!" "Well, when the question of going to the front came up, your Uncle Tom was just as eager to go as anybody, even though he was never an officer during his days at Putnam Hall Military Academy. But it was realized that some one must remain behind to take charge of The Rover Company. More than this, your Uncle Tom is at the head of one of the most important committees connected with the sale of Liberty Bonds, and he is also at the head of one of the Red Cross committees, and doing splendid work in both positions. The matter was talked over a number of times, and finally, much, however, against his will, he consented to withdraw in favor of your fathers. It is understood that he is not only to look after the business, but that he will likewise look after all of you young folks, including your sisters." "And how soon do all of you expect to leave, if I may ask?" questioned Jack. "That will depend somewhat on circumstances. As soon as I receive any word, I'll let you know. In the meanwhile, however, you may get some word from home." The two cadets continued to talk the matter over with Colonel Colby for several minutes longer, and then, realizing that he was a very busy man, they withdrew and hurried back to their own rooms. "Now tell us all about it," said Andy. All of the outsiders except Spouter and Gif had gone to their own quarters. "Tell it straight," said Randy. Sitting down, Jack and Fred did so, the others listening closely to every word that was said. As they proceeded the twins showed their satisfaction over the news. "I knew dad would want to go just as much as anybody," declared Randy. "So did I," added his twin. "As it is, I guess he'll have as much to do as anybody." "He'll certainly have his hands full, running The Rover Company and being on those two committees, as well as looking after all of us young folks." "Just as if we couldn't look after ourselves!" exclaimed Fred. "Oh, well, you know what I mean!" "This gets me!" said Spouter. "I'd like to know what my father is going to do. If he is going into the army, I'd like to know it." "And I'd like to know what my father is going to do, too," said Gif. "I don't believe he cares much for military matters, but just the same, he is intensely patriotic, and I know he would like to get a chance at those Boches." "I suppose we'll get more news in a day or two," said Jack. "This telegram was sent more to break the ice than anything else. It puts it up to us to let Mary and Martha know," and he looked at Fred as he spoke. "We'll go over to-morrow and see them," was Fred's reply. "I don't think I care to telephone news like this. No, we'll take them off by themselves and let them know." A little later Spouter and Gif retired. The four Rover boys sat up for fully an hour longer, discussing the subject from every possible point of view. To Jack and Fred the entrance of their fathers into the army of the United States meant a great deal. The great war was on in all its fury, and they knew that sooner or later their fathers would be sent to France to face the enemy. "It's all well enough to talk about going to the front and covering oneself with glory," was the way Fred expressed himself. "But some of those who go to the front never come back." "That is true, Fred," answered Jack soberly. "But a good citizen has got to be ready to do his duty, no matter what the cost." "Oh, I know that! Just the same, this going to the front is a serious business. Even if a person isn't killed, he may come back minus an arm or a leg, or something like that." "Well, don't you go to talking like that to Mary and Martha." "I don't intend to. Just the same, what I said is true." "I know it." CHAPTER X ON THE WAY HOME "Oh, Jack, you don't mean it! Father and Uncle Sam have really volunteered for the war!" It was Martha Rover who spoke. She and her brother were seated in a small summerhouse attached to Clearwater Hall. Not far away sat Mary and Fred. "It's the truth, Martha," answered Jack; "and here is the telegram that was sent. We at once went to Colonel Colby and got some particulars." "But he may be shot down and killed!" and Martha's face grew white as she spoke. "That's a chance every soldier takes when he goes to the front, Martha. But let us hope that dad will escape--and let us hope that Uncle Sam will escape, too." Jack and Fred had come over early in the morning and had asked permission of Miss Garwood to see the girls on an important errand. They had left the school building under the curious eyes of Ruth and a number of their other chums. "Well, in one way, I'm glad of this," declared Mary, her pride showing in her face. "It's exactly what I thought dad would do the minute we got into the war. I knew he wouldn't want to be thought a slacker." "But, Mary! suppose they got killed--or even wounded?" murmured Martha. "Martha Rover! do you want your father to hang back when he thinks it's his duty to go to the front?" demanded Mary, her eyes snapping questioningly. "No, no!" answered her cousin quickly. "I know it's the right thing to do. Just the same, it worries me a great deal; and I know it will worry mamma, too." "You mustn't say anything about being a slacker," admonished Jack. "If it should get to the ears of Uncle Tom, it might make him feel very bad." "Oh, I don't put Uncle Tom down as a slacker," returned Mary quickly. "I think he is making a great sacrifice, by staying behind to keep the business together, and to serve on that Loan Committee and the Red Cross Committee." The young folks talked it over for some time, and decided to wait until they got further word from home. Then the two girls went back into the school to tell Miss Garwood and their chums the news, while the boys hurried to Colby Hall, arriving there during the morning recess. "Say, but we've had some fun since you went away!" cried Andy gaily, when they appeared. "Pud Hicks, the janitor's assistant, got the surprise of his life." "How is that?" questioned Fred. "Why, Pud was using a vacuum cleaner in the upper hall when he saw something in a dark corner that he couldn't quite make out. The thing got stuck in the cleaner, and he put down his hand to see what it was. The next minute he let out a yell like a wild Indian and came flying down the corridor, scared stiff." "What was it--the snapping turtle?" asked Jack. "You've struck it. The turtle must have crawled into the corner, and when he felt Pud's hand on him he took a good solid hold on Pud's little finger. "I had just gone upstairs to get a book when I saw Pud tearing around. Half a dozen fellows were there, and the way Pud cut up was like a circus. Shout Plunger came tearing upstairs to find out what it was all about, and Pud gave the snapping turtle a sling, and it hit Shout right in the face and then fell down inside his coat. Shout put his hand inside to find out what it was, he being too deaf to hear the talk about a snapping turtle, and then the turtle got busy and got Shout by the hand. Then there was more fun!" "What did they do with the turtle at last?" questioned Jack. "Oh, Shout wouldn't take any chances," answered Andy. "He put the turtle down on the floor and smashed it with his heel; and then, of course, the fun was all over." "Did they find out how the turtle came to be there?" questioned Fred. "No, they didn't. Codfish came along, and he started to say something, but I put up my fist and motioned to him, and then he shut up like a clam." "He'll give you away sooner or later, Andy," remarked Jack. "If he does, he'll pay for it," retorted the fun-loving Rover. Several days went by, and during that time the boys learned not a little concerning the catastrophe at the Hasley Shell-Loading plant, the local papers giving a full account of the affair. Fortunately the report that several had been killed was untrue, but about sixteen men had been injured, and several of them quite seriously. There were many speculations concerning what had started the explosions. It was proved that the first had occurred in one of the cars which was standing loaded on the railroad track, while the second explosion had come less than a minute later from what was known as Storehouse No. 3. Then had followed an explosion at Storehouse No. 2, and after that the explosions had come so rapidly and there had been so much excitement that no one could tell exactly what had happened next. But fortunately the explosions had been confined to the storehouses and the loaded cars on the track. The main building of the shell-loading plant had suffered considerably, but a portion was still standing, and some underground vaults, filled with high explosives, had not been reached. Had these explosives gone up, it is more than likely Haven Point, as well as Clearwater Hall and possibly Colby Hall, would have been shaken to their foundations and with great loss of life. A rigid investigation had been started by three different parties--the owners of the plant, the local authorities, and the Secret Service of the national government. The Secret Service men, of course, made no public report, but the others in authority came to the conclusion that the explosions had been started either by some spies working for the shell-loading plant or by two suspicious-looking men who had been seen several times around the place--the same fellows described by Jed Kessler. "Maybe those two fellows on the outside had confederates on the inside," remarked Jack, in talking the affair over with his cousins. "More than likely that's the truth of it," said Randy. "Those fellows often work in gangs." During the days following the victory over Hixley High, a number of the cadets had gone down to Haven Point at various times, and several brought back the report that they had met Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell driving through the town in their runabout. Slugger and Nappy had put on a lordly air, bowing very condescendingly to those they knew, but refusing to stop for any conversation. "Those fellows make me weary in the bones," was the way Dan Soppinger expressed himself. "What ever brought 'em to Haven Point? If I had been fired out of the school the way they were, I wouldn't want to show my face around here again." "Yes, Dan; but you aren't the sort they are," declared Jack. "I don't believe either Slugger Brown or Nappy Martell has a particle of real pride. They think just because they have a little more spending money than most fellows, they can lord it over anybody." It worried all of the Rovers to think that Brown and Martell were hanging around Haven Point, and Jack telephoned to Clearwater Hall several times, calling up Ruth and also his sister Martha, asking if they had been annoyed in any way by the pair. "We saw them again down near our boathouse," said Ruth over the telephone. "They acted as if they wanted to talk to us, but we did not give them any chance to do it." "If they dare to say a word to any of you, just let us know and we'll take care of them," declared the oldest Rover boy. On the third day came a long letter to Jack and an equally lengthy communication for Fred. The letters were from their fathers, and in them Dick and Sam Rover gave the particulars of how they had volunteered for service in France and how Dick had been commissioned a captain and Sam a lieutenant. They mentioned the fact that they were soon to leave New York City, along with a number of other volunteers, to go to Camp Huxwell, a beautiful site selected by the government and located on the Atlantic coast. "Why, say, that isn't very far from here!" exclaimed Jack. "I've often heard them talk about that place." Jack's father also mentioned the fact that Colonel Colby had obtained a commission as a captain and that a great many others of his old school chums from Putnam Hall, and likewise two of his comrades from Brill College, were going. He added that if Jack wanted to come home to see him off, he could do so. "And that's just what my dad says, too," said Fred, after both boys had finished reading the letters. "Of course we'll go!" "Ten horses couldn't hold me back," answered Jack. "Well, if you fellows go, we're going, too," declared Randy, when the matter was talked over. "Bet your life!" added Andy slangily. "I want to know what dad has got to say about all this." Jack and Fred communicated at once with their sisters, and learned that they, too, had received letters from home and were going to depart for New York City at the earliest possible moment. It was then arranged that the young folks should all leave together on the following morning. "Remember me to your fathers," said Colonel Colby, after they had asked for and received permission to go. "Tell them they will hear from me very shortly." The two girls met the four boys at Haven Point, and Ruth, May, Gif, and Spouter came to see them off. "I've got a surprise for you," said Spouter, who had come to the railroad station at Haven Point earlier than the others, in order to obtain parlor-car seats for the party. "What is that?" questioned Fred. "When I came in for the seats, who do you think was just ahead of me at the ticket window?" "You don't mean Slugger and Nappy?" questioned Randy quickly. "You've struck it!" "What were they doing there?" asked Jack with interest. "They were getting tickets for New York." "Oh, dear! do you mean to say we've got to put up with those fellows on this trip?" sighed Martha. "You won't have to notice them, Martha," declared her brother. "Don't worry but what we'll make them keep their distance," added Fred. The whole crowd looked around the depot, and presently made out Slugger and Nappy at the far end of the platform. They were smoking cigarettes and talking in low, earnest tones. "I hope they didn't get seats in the parlor car," said Mary. "I don't think they did," answered Spouter. "They're such smokers, I guess they'd just as lief hang out in the smoking car." In a few minutes the train came along, and, bidding their friends good-bye, the Rovers got aboard and had a porter show them to their seats. From the window Jack waved Ruth a good-bye, and then the long train pulled out of Haven Point and began its trip to the metropolis. It was rather a long journey, and it was necessary that they obtain a meal on the train. "Let me go into the dining car and have a look around first," remarked Fred, when it came time to eat. "What's the matter--afraid we won't be able to get seats?" inquired Randy. "I want to see if Slugger and Nappy are around. I don't want to eat when they do." "Right you are!" answered Jack. He and Fred hurried through the train and into the diner. Neither Brown nor Martell were present, for which they were thankful. They found a table for four on one side of the car, with a table for two directly opposite, and at once engaged both. Then, while Jack held the tables, Fred hurried back and brought the girls and the twins. "I never eat in a dining car but what I think of that fun we had with Asa Lemm when we first came to the Hall," remarked Andy, as they sat down. "My, what a pickle we did get that professor in!" he chuckled, referring to a series of incidents, the particulars of which were related in "The Rover Boys at Colby Hall." "I wonder if we'll ever meet old Asa Lemm again?" remarked Fred. "Sure!" returned Randy. "He's like a bad penny--bound to turn up some time." The young folks ordered soup for a first course, and this was quickly served. Mary and Martha sat at the larger table with Andy and Randy opposite, while Fred and Jack occupied the smaller table on the other side of the car. The soup was finished and the young folks were waiting to be served with the more substantial portion of the meal, when suddenly Fred, who was looking toward the far end of the dining car, pressed his foot down on that of his cousin. "What is it?" questioned Jack quickly. "Here come Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell," was the low reply. CHAPTER XI TOM ROVER'S DILEMMA Andy and Randy were facing the same way as Fred, and they, too, noticed the approach of Brown and Martell. Randy whispered something in a low tone of voice to Martha and Mary, and the two girls pursed up their lips, but said nothing, nor did they look around. The dining car was almost full, and the only table vacant was a small one directly behind where Fred was sitting. Slugger and Nappy were conducted to this by the head waiter, thus passing the Rovers. They did not, however, notice our friends until they had seated themselves and given their order. "Humph! what do you know about that?" murmured Nappy Martell to his crony. He was seated where he could stare directly at the two girls. "What's the matter?" returned Slugger Brown, and then turned around to follow his crony's gaze. "What do you know about that? I didn't know they were in such a hurry to get to the diner, did you?" "I knew they would most likely want to eat," answered Nappy. The newcomers winked at each other, and then, while they were waiting to be served, Nappy began to stare boldly at Martha. But she refused to look at him, confining her attention to her plate and to Mary and the twins. Fred could no longer see the unworthy pair, as they were behind him. But Jack, looking over his cousin's shoulder, got a good view of how Martell was staring at his sister, and he also saw how uncomfortable this was making Martha. He waited a minute or two longer, hoping that Nappy would desist. But then, as the dudish young man continued to gaze at the girl, trying his best to catch her eye, he whispered something to Fred, and then rose to his feet. "All right, Jack, I'm with you if you want any help," returned Fred promptly. Without hesitation, Jack approached the table at which Brown and Martell sat eating their soup, and placed himself close to the latter's side. "Now listen to me, Nappy Martell," he said in a low but distinct voice, meant only for the dudish youth. "You keep your eyes to yourself and leave my sister and my cousin alone. If you don't, I'll smash you one in the face that will put you in the hospital. Now remember--I won't give you another warning!" And having thus spoken, Jack turned on his heel and went back to his own table. Nappy Martell flushed up and an angry retort arose to his lips. Then, however, he became pale and not a word escaped him. "What was that he said, Nappy?" demanded Slugger in a whisper. "I--I'll tell you afterwards," stammered Martell. "He's mighty fresh--that fellow!" "Did he threaten you?" "I guess he wants to start a row," grumbled Nappy. "But I don't want any fight in front of those girls." "Those Rovers are getting too fresh to live," was Slugger's comment. "Some day we'll have to get after 'em and polish 'em off." "We can't get after 'em any too quick to suit me," answered his crony. After that Nappy confined his gaze to his chum and to the lunch set before him. Never once did he allow his eyes to rove over to the table opposite. Jack had spoken with an intensity that showed his earnestness, and for once Nappy Martell was completely subdued. "Those Rovers are getting to be a regular bunch of rough-necks," he growled, after he and his crony had finished a somewhat hurried meal and gone back to the smoking car. "Did he want to fight you?" queried Slugger. "That's what he had in mind to do--as if I would want to fight before that crowd of people! Why, we would all have been arrested!" Jack's meal had been spoiled for him, but he did not let the others know this. He, however, kept his eyes on Brown and Martell until they left the dining car. Then he breathed a sigh of relief. "Gee! I'm glad they're gone," was Fred's comment. "You're no more glad than I am," answered his cousin. "I'll teach him to stare at my sister! For two pins I'd have wiped up the floor with him!" "I wish I'd have gotten the chance," put in Andy, from across the aisle. "Wouldn't I like to have peppered up their food good for them!" In due course of time the young Rovers reached the Grand Central Terminal at Forty-Second Street, in New York City. They had sent a telegram, announcing their coming, and found Mrs. Dick Rover and Mrs. Sam Rover awaiting them, each with a touring car. "Well, I see you got in on time," said Mrs. Dick Rover, after the greetings were over. "I thought on account of so many soldiers being sent to the various camps, the train might be late." "We saw some soldiers on the way," answered her daughter. "And we also saw some freight cars carrying cannon," put in Mary. "This war is going to make a great change all around," declared Mrs. Sam Rover. And then she added to her daughter: "What do you think about your father going to the front?" "It's just what I expected," answered Mary promptly. "He's a real patriot--dad is!" "You are right. But I hate awfully to see him go away," sighed the mother. The young folks were soon seated in the two automobiles, and their handbags were disposed of in the tonneau. Then the cars were started up, and they were soon whirling away over to Broadway and Riverside Drive, and then to the comfortable mansions occupied by the three Rover families. It was still rather early in the afternoon, but Sam Rover had already come uptown from his office and was there to greet his son and daughter and the others. "It's great news, Dad!" cried Fred, shaking him warmly by the hand, while Mary clung around his neck and kissed him. "Oh, I'm going to be real proud of you!" said the daughter. A little later Dick Rover arrived, and Jack shook hands with a warmth that was most unusual. When Martha kissed her father a curious lump arose in her throat, and her eyes grew misty. "I suppose it's all right, Dad," she whispered in his ear. "But, oh! I do hope you'll come back all right." And she clung to him in a way that spoke volumes. "Of course I'll come back all right, Martha," said Dick Rover confidently. "And for all you know, your dad will come back a major or a colonel, or maybe a brigadier general." "Oh, I don't care about that! All I want is for you to come back safe and sound!" "Your father will be up in a little while," announced Dick Rover to the twins. "He had a meeting to attend in reference to the next Liberty Loan. He's a tremendously busy man these days." "But Uncle Dick! he wanted to go to the front just as well as you did, didn't he?" questioned Randy eagerly. "Of course he wanted to go," was the ready response. "But we couldn't all go, you know. Somebody had to stay behind to look after our business interests in Wall Street." "But--but couldn't you hire somebody else to run the business for you?" questioned Andy. Now that he and his brother were face to face with the fact that their Uncle Dick and their Uncle Sam were going into the army, it did not look right at all to them to have their father left behind. "We thought something of that, but we really couldn't see how it could be done. You see, we have a great many important deals under way, and if those transactions are not looked after carefully, we might stand to lose a great deal of money." "I don't care--if dad wanted to go to the front, he should have had the chance to go!" burst out Randy. "I declare, Randy, you'll be as hard to manage in this affair as your father was," said Dick Rover, with a faint smile. "Was he really hard to manage?" queried Andy eagerly. "He sure was! We had to talk to him for several days before he would agree to remain behind. He told us once that the whole business could go to pot." "Hurrah for dad! That's the way I knew he'd act!" burst out the boy. "If I was him I'd let the business go to pot!" declared Randy. "What good will your old business be if those Germans win this war and start in to rule everything? For all you know, they'll come right over to New York and take your whole business away from you." "Well, that might possibly happen," put in Sam Rover seriously. "Although I don't think it is very probable." Knowing that the young folks were usually very hungry when they got home and that they always enjoyed home cooking, their mothers had prepared quite a spread for them. Mrs. Tom Rover had gone downtown to meet her husband, and now she came back in a flutter of excitement. "Hello, Ma! Where is Dad?" questioned Randy, as he ran up and gave her a hug and a kiss, followed by his twin. "He's downtown, up to his ears in that Liberty Loan business," answered Mrs. Tom Rover. "Oh, dear! I never saw such a busy man! Half a dozen men are coming in and going out all the time, wanting to know what to do next and asking him if he won't make another speech here, there, or somewhere else. They want him to talk at two Liberty Loan meetings to-night and one Liberty Loan meeting and a Red Cross meeting to-morrow afternoon." "Isn't he coming home at all?" questioned both of the twins in a breath. "Oh, yes. He'll be here in a little while. But he won't be able to stay long," returned the mother. When Tom Rover arrived he looked rather tired out, but he greeted all the boys with a smile and gave each of the girls the kiss he knew they were expecting. "Oh, I'm in it neck deep," he answered, in reply to his sons' questions. "They must think I can talk just like a coffee-grinder grinds out coffee. And the nerve of some of them!" he continued. "Here they have asked me to go somewhere uptown and meet a lot of bankers and tell them how some of the work on the Liberty Loan is to be done! As if those bankers don't know as much about it as I do, and maybe more!" "You've bought some of the bonds yourself, haven't you, Dad?" questioned Randy. "Yes, Son--twenty thousand dollars' worth, and The Rover Company, as a company, has taken twice that amount." "And my father has taken twenty thousand dollars' worth, too," said Mary. "And so has mine," added Martha. "All told, I think we're doing pretty well by Uncle Sam!" cried Jack. "Just the same, Uncle Tom, I think it's a shame that they are going to make you stay behind to run the business." "I won't stay behind if things get much warmer!" burst out Tom Rover suddenly. "I'll put somebody in my place and grab a gun and go after those Huns." "Hurrah! that's the way to talk," cried Andy enthusiastically. "Would you really, Dad?" burst out Randy, his eyes shining. "Do you want me to go, Son?" demanded the father, catching him by the shoulder. "Of course I do! I don't think you ought to stay behind with Uncle Dick and Uncle Sam going." "It doesn't seem right," added his twin. "And it isn't right! But what am I going to do?" asked their father somewhat helplessly. "We've all our money locked up in our various business deals. Those deals have got to be looked after. Who is going to do it if we all go away?" "Oh, you can get somebody!" "This getting somebody that you can trust absolutely is not so easy," answered Tom Rover. "I did think of getting one gentleman we know very well--a Mr. Allen Charter, who graduated from Brill College a year after your uncles and I were admitted to the institution. Mr. Charter is a very fine business man, and understands the deals we are in perfectly." "Well, then, why didn't you get Mr. Allen Charter to take hold?" questioned Randy. "He was going to take hold, but at the last minute he declined, stating that he had made up his mind to volunteer for the army." "Well, there must be somebody else." "There was another student at that college, named Stanley Browne. He is a cousin of Colonel Colby. We were very good friends, and I thought sure that we could get him to take charge. But Browne has also gone into the United States service." "Oh, if that isn't a shame--every one of them going in and you left behind!" grumbled Randy. "I don't think it's fair at all!" "Well, I suppose I've got to make the best of it," answered Tom Rover. But as he spoke he heaved a mountainous sigh. This being left behind while his brothers and his best friends went to the front was going to almost break his heart. CHAPTER XII AT THE ROVER COMPANY OFFICES "Well, we're off at last! Good-bye to everybody!" The words came from Dick Rover as the last call was given for the volunteers who were going to Camp Huxton to entrain. "Don't forget to write regularly!" came from Sam Rover. "Oh, we'll do that--don't fear!" answered his wife Grace. "And don't you forget to answer every letter." "And please, please, both of you be careful, and don't get hurt!" murmured Martha. "Oh, say, Martha! don't put a wet blanket on things that way," whispered her brother. "Don't you know you have to send them away with a smile?" "And I'm going to," she answered quickly, and then began to smile, even though the tears were forming in her pretty eyes. "I know you will take good care of things while we are away, Tom," said Dick Rover to his brother. "You can rest assured of that," answered Tom Rover. "Just the same, I wish I were going along." "So do I, now that the time has come." "We may never have to go to France," put in Sam Rover. "The war may be over before that time." Yet, as he spoke, he knew in his heart that such was not likely to be the case. But he wanted to say something to ease the minds of his wife and the other womenfolks. There were quite a number of volunteers to entrain, and friends and relatives were hurrying this way and that to see them off. Among the Rovers there was much handshaking and not a few kisses, and then Dick Rover and Sam entered the train, which, a few seconds later, glided from the station. It was a sober crowd that returned to the Rover homes, even Andy and Randy being subdued. No one felt like talking. Poor Martha seemed to be the most affected, and had she attempted to speak she would certainly have broken out crying. "Well, I suppose we've got to get back to Colby Hall to finish out the term," remarked Jack, after Tom Rover had departed for the offices in Wall Street. "Gee! I wish I could volunteer and go to that camp," sighed Fred. "Well, we'll get a touch of camp life soon," returned Jack. He referred to the annual encampment of the Colby Hall students. Every year the cadets of the school were marched away to some place either in the mountains or on the seashore, there to erect their tents and live under canvas for several weeks. During this encampment the cadets were given a taste of real military life, with strenuous drills and marches, target and bayonet practice, and usually ending with a thrilling sham battle. "Well, we can't get under canvas any too quick to suit me," announced Randy. "I'd rather be out in the open air than in the Hall." It was arranged that the young folks should return to Haven Point on the following morning. Andy and Randy wanted to see as much of their father as possible, and so decided to run down to Wall Street late in the afternoon and come home with him. "And you fellows can come along, if you want to," said Randy to his cousins. "That suits me," answered Jack. "I'd like to see how things look at the offices. I haven't been down there in a long time." "I'd like to go, too," came from Fred. "Maybe we can cheer Uncle Tom up a bit. He certainly deserves it--having all this business thrust on his shoulders!" It did not take the four boys long to reach Wall Street, and then they hurried down to one of the small but better-class office buildings in that vicinity. The Rover Company occupied the entire fourth floor of this building. There was a large general office and a counting room and three private offices, one for each of the brothers. The office help numbered about twenty, and the place during business hours was usually a busy one. They found Tom Rover in his private office at a large desk piled high with sheets and documents. He was hard at work signing his name to a number of sheets, but smiled pleasantly when he saw who his visitors were. The boys, of course, were well known to most of the employees, and so had passed in without being questioned. "Come to help me out, I suppose," said the father of the twins, with a grin. "All right. Take off your coats, roll up your sleeves and pitch in. There is plenty to do." "If that is the case, Uncle Tom, I guess you don't want us to disturb you," said Jack quickly. "I'll be through here in less than half an hour," announced Tom Rover. "Just make yourselves at home for that length of time, and then I'll be with you." This was a gentle hint that he must get through with his work, and the boys lost no time in backing out of his office. They went into the offices usually occupied by Dick Rover and Sam Rover, looking over a number of books, magazines and pamphlets. "Let's go down in the street for a while and take a look around," suggested Andy, who always liked to be on the go. As there was nothing particular for them to do in the offices, the others agreed to this, and so, telling the twins' father that they would come back at the end of the half hour, they walked out into the corridor opening upon the elevators and the stairway. As they waited at one of the elevators for a chance to go down, the elevator came up and stopped to let out a messenger boy. Then it continued on its way upward. "Say, did you notice who was in that elevator?" cried Randy quickly. "I thought I saw Mr. Martell," answered Fred. "Yes, it was Martell, and Nappy was with him." "Well, there is nothing strange about that," came from Andy. "Probably he wants to see his father now he is in New York again." "I'd like to know what Nappy has told his father about us," went on Fred. "You can wager it's nothing good." "I don't care what he says, so long as he leaves us alone," said Jack. Another elevator appeared, and the four boys descended to the ground floor of the office building. Here half a dozen people were waiting to go up, while several others were at the rear of the corridor, talking earnestly. "Hello! there are Slugger Brown and his father," exclaimed Fred, pointing down the corridor. "Now, what do you know about that!" "They must be in this building to visit the Martells," returned Jack. "They are talking to two men," put in Randy. "I wonder who they can be?" "Oh, some friends or business acquaintances, I suppose," answered the oldest of the Rover boys. Ordinarily none of the Rover boys considered eavesdropping honorable, but they thought it a different thing when dealing with their enemies, and Andy, being naturally inquisitive anyway, sauntered down the corridor and passed the group that was talking so earnestly. The backs of both Mr. Brown and Slugger were toward him, so neither noticed the lad. "And if you will do that, Mr. Brown, you will make very good money by it," Andy heard one of the strange men say. He spoke with a strong German accent. "You will make far more money that way than you ever did in your business," added the other stranger. "Yes, but I'll be running a big risk," Mr. Brown replied. "Those things are getting more dangerous every day." "Say, Pop, why don't you go up and see Mr. Martell about this?" put in the son. "Yes, I think we ought to go up and see Nelson Martell," answered Mr. Brown. "I have already seen him," said one of the strangers. "Well, it won't do any harm to talk it over again," returned Slogwell Brown. "Come on; his offices are up on the fifth floor." The party of four turned, and as they did so Andy raised his hand and made a quick motion to the other boys to get out of sight. Then, as Slugger Brown and the men passed him, he turned quickly and, bending down, pretended to fix the lace of his shoe. Thus he was passed without being recognized. A few seconds later the four were in the elevator, going up. "Why did you motion for us to get out of the way?" demanded Jack, as soon as Andy rejoined the others. "Because I didn't want Slugger and his father and those other men to see you," was the quick reply. "Do you know what I think?" "What?" came in a chorus from the others. "I think that whole crowd is up to no good. Both of those men look like Germans, and each of them talked with a strong German accent, even though they are both evidently very well educated." "What did they say?" demanded Jack; and when told, he looked grave. "There may be something in this," he said slowly. "Suppose we go up to the fifth floor and try to find out a little more." "We might get caught," said Fred. "I don't see how," went on the oldest Rover boy. "Martell doesn't occupy the whole floor. He has the front offices only. There are several other firms in the rear. We might be calling on them, you know," and he winked. The boys talked the matter over for a minute or so, and then, as an elevator came down, they entered and got out at the fifth floor. The little corridor here was empty, for which they were thankful. "Of course there may not be a thing in this," announced Jack. "It may be some ordinary business deal which is perfectly legitimate." "Not by the way those two German-looking fellows talked," said Andy. "I didn't like their looks at all. Unless I miss my guess, they are a slick pair." The two strangers had looked to be about forty years of age. Each was tall and rather stout, with a clean-shaven, florid face and close-cut, sandy hair. Their eyes had had a shifty snake-like look, and this it was, as much as anything, which set Andy against them. The doors to the Martell offices were two in number, one marked "Private" and the other, "Entrance." The boys waited for a few seconds, and then walked softly over to the latter door. They heard a murmur of voices, but could not make out what was being said. "Perhaps they are in the office marked 'Private,'" whispered Jack, and tiptoed his way in that direction, followed by his cousins. In front of the door to this office they could hear slightly better. The murmur of voices was at times quite distinct, and they caught the words: "Supplies," "Canned goods," "Immediate delivery," "Motor trucks," "Machinery," "Cash payment," "Night work," and a number of others. Then the murmur of voices grew a little more animated, and finally they heard Nelson Martell exclaim: "I think we ought to have a thousand dollars at least in advance!" "Better make it two thousand," came from Slogwell Brown. There was an exclamation from the strange men, and then the voices sounded lower so that the Rovers could not hear what was being said. Suddenly, however, one of the strangers cried out: "Oh, I forgot! I have an important engagement in less than half an hour. I must go at once." "I guess it's time we got out of here!" exclaimed Jack, and started to retreat, as did the others. The Rover boys had just reached a place in front of the elevators when the door to one of the back offices opened and much to their surprise Nappy Martell and Slugger Brown came out. Evidently they had been sent off by their fathers while their parents had been doing business with the two strange men. "Hello! what are you fellows doing here?" grumbled Nappy, gazing at them suspiciously. "Did my father come up here?" questioned Randy, before the others could speak. "We want to see him," continued the quick-witted Rover. "Maybe he's in Mr. Benson's office, fellows," he added. "Come on." There was a Mr. Benson on that floor with an office in the rear. Without saying another word to Nappy or Slugger, the Rover boys marched to the door of the Benson place, knocked, and went in. "Say, that was a neat trick, all right enough," whispered Jack to Randy. "But now you've got us into it, you'll have to get us out." "Humph! that's easy enough," was the ready reply. "Just leave it to me." A clerk came up, looking inquiringly at the boys. "Excuse me, but did my father come up here?" questioned Randy innocently. And then, as the clerk looked puzzled, he added: "I am Randy Rover. My father is Thomas Rover of The Rover Company." "Oh, I see!" and the clerk smiled. "No, I don't think your father came up here, but I'll ask Mr. Benson." The clerk disappeared into an inner office, to reappear a moment later. "Sorry, but your father hasn't been up here to-day." "Thank you," returned Randy; and then he and the others backed themselves out. The stairway was close at hand, and a few seconds later the four Rover boys were on the fourth floor. Here they waited for the elevator, and soon found themselves on the ground floor, and from that walked to the street. "Let's hang around and see if that fellow really goes away," advised Fred. This they did, and in a few minutes saw the two German-looking men come from the building. They seemed to be in a great hurry, and lost no time in disappearing up Wall Street in the direction of Broadway. "I wonder if we hadn't better follow them?" said Fred. "It might be rather a long-winded job, and we haven't time," answered Jack. "Let us stay around until my father is at leisure," said Randy. "Then we can tell him what we have heard and see what he thinks of it." And so it was decided. CHAPTER XIII FUN AT THE RAILROAD STATION "There may be a good deal in this, and there may be nothing at all," were Tom Rover's words, after he had listened to the story the boys had to tell. "This may be a perfectly legitimate business transaction, although, as I have said before, Nelson Martell has been known to go into more than one shady transaction here in Wall Street. Generally, however, he just manages to escape falling into the clutches of the law." "Yes, but Dad! you must remember how Mr. Brown tried to treat old Barney Stevenson," broke in Randy. "Yes, I remember that," answered his father. "And I have heard that Brown is no more reliable than is Martell. But to know a fact is one thing, to prove it in a court of law is another." "And those two strangers were certainly Germans," said Andy. "I'll look into this a little further as soon as I get time," said Tom Rover, after a moment of thought. "And perhaps I'll speak to one of the Secret Service men about it. It certainly will do no harm to have these men watched for a few days." A little later Tom Rover was through with his labors at his office, and then he and the boys returned to the homes on Riverside Drive. The father of the twins had to go out in the evening, and the boys spent the time at home with their mothers and the girls. "We can't go straight through to Haven Point this morning," announced Jack, on the following day, when they had arrived at the railroad terminal. "They are shipping some soldiers and some naval supplies, and the road is somewhat balled up. The gateman told me we should have to make two changes." All of the mothers had come down to see the young folks off. Jack and Fred, as well as their sisters, felt particularly sorry for their parents, now left entirely alone so far as their own families were concerned. "But never mind, Ma," said Martha. "The term at Clearwater Hall will soon be at an end, and then we'll be home again." "And don't forget that we are to pay a visit to Camp Huxwell if the authorities will permit it and dad is still there," added Mary to her parent. "Sure! we'll all go," cried Fred. Owing to war conditions, there was no parlor car on the train, but the boys and girls managed to get seats together, for which they were thankful. They made themselves as comfortable as possible, and then settled down to read their newspapers and magazines, or gaze out of the window at the scenes which were flashing by. There was no dining car on this train, but from the conductor the young folks learned that they would have to change at a place called Raymonton, and they would there have half an hour in which to get lunch. "I can get all I want in less time than that, provided it's to be had," said Fred. "We can go to the lunch room just as soon as the train gets in." Raymonton was nothing but an overgrown village containing but a handful of stores, a church, a garage, and a canning factory, with the houses occupying half a dozen straggly-looking streets. There was only a small and not an altogether inviting-looking lunch room, and here the bill-of-fare was decidedly meagre. A tall, angular Irish girl waited on them. She was pleasant enough, and smiled broadly at the twins' jokes. She served them with sandwiches, cake, pie, and hot chocolate, and they also purchased from her a bag of grapes and pears. "I told you we'd have plenty of time," remarked Fred, looking at a clock on the wall. "We have still ten minutes to spare." "I think I'll get a shoe-shine," said Jack. "I saw a bootblack outside roaming around doing nothing. If I give him work it may keep him out of mischief." At the end of the railroad platform was a stand devoted to the sale of newspapers and periodicals, chewing gum and candy. There was also a rack with postcards, and the girls busied themselves at this, picking out such cards as they desired. Not far from where the stand was located stood a long auto-stage, marked "_Raymonton to Clappville. Fare 10 Cents._" On the seat of the stage sat an elderly driver, smoking, and the bus contained one or two men and several women and children, evidently waiting for the stage to start on its journey. Jack had just finished having his shoes polished when he and the other boys noticed a man at the newsstand talking to the proprietor. Both men appeared to be out of sorts. "Sorry, Sir, but you can't have that magazine!" they heard the stand keeper exclaim. "I'd like to know why not!" demanded the would-be customer. "I am ready to pay for it." "That's all right--but you can't have it! I get only two copies of that magazine, and one is for the hotel and the other for Doctor Johnson's daughter. They both take it regular." "Humph! I guess you don't want any customers," growled the other man savagely. "Well, if you don't want to sell me any of your old magazines you can keep them! I guess I can get all the magazines I want elsewhere." And the man stalked off in haughty anger. The boys had watched this scene and listened to the talk with much interest. They had recognized in the would-be customer Asa Lemm, the professor who previous to his discharge from that institution had made life so miserable for them at Colby Hall. "I'm glad the fellow didn't let him have the magazine," said Fred. "Gee, I wish we could put one over on old Lemm!" whispered Andy. "I wonder what he is doing in this town?" queried Randy. "I think I can answer that," replied Jack. "I once heard that he had some relative--a brother I think--living at Clappville. Maybe he came from there, or is going over to that town in the stage." Without allowing themselves to be noticed, Andy and Randy kept their eyes on Asa Lemm and saw him hurry over to one of the stores on the main street of the town, where a number of magazines were displayed in the window. He came out of the place, however, empty-handed, and looking more sour than ever. In the meantime Jack sauntered up to the keeper of the stand at the railroad station. "Not a very pleasant sort of a fellow, that," he remarked. "Say, that fellow makes me tired!" growled the newsstand man. "I have a run-in with him nearly every time he comes here. The last time it was over a plugged ten-cent piece he tried to pass on me. When I handed it back to him and told him I wanted a good one, he was as peppery as sin." A minute or two later the driver of the auto-stage tooted his horn to show that he was about ready to start on the trip. At once several men and women came running from various directions and began to enter the stage. The last man to arrive was Asa Lemm. He had picked up a valise and a bundle from somewhere, and he had to stand in the rear, waiting for those ahead to enter the stage. "I suppose there won't be any seat for me by the time I get aboard," he grumbled to the driver. "Ain't my fault," answered the stage driver calmly. "If you don't want to stand, you can wait until the next trip." "I haven't time to wait. I'll crowd in somehow," grumbled Asa Lemm. While this was going on, Andy and Randy had come up close behind the professor. Both were wondering if they could not play some sort of trick on him before he departed. The newsstand was similar to many of that kind, and on two sides of it were long rows of periodicals, fastened by clips to a wire held in place by small hooks. Watching his chance, Andy unfastened the end of one of these wires, and motioned to his twin to unhook the other end. "Now I guess we'll fix Mr. Asa Lemm!" muttered Andy, and with a quick move he came up behind the former teacher of Colby Hall and twisted one end of the wire around a back button of Asa Lemm's cutaway coat. By this time all of the others had gotten into the stage, and, being somewhat in a hurry, the driver made a move as if to start away. "Hi there! Wait till I get in!" shouted Asa Lemm and threw his bags and his bundle into the stage. Then he got on to the stage step and the driver started off. "Hello, look at that!" "Say, what is that fellow dragging behind him?" "Hi, Mr. Gasaway! That fellow is running away with your magazines!" "Talk about the tail of a kite--this beats any kite tail I ever saw!" [Illustration: "TALK ABOUT THE TAIL OF A KITE--THIS BEATS ANY KITE TAIL I EVER SAW!" _Page 139_] Such were some of the cries that rent the air as the stage started away from the depot. On the step, clutching the handrails, was Asa Lemm, and streaming out behind him was the wire, loaded with magazines and picture papers. "Hi you! Come back here!" roared the stand keeper in bewilderment. "What do you mean by running off with my stuff? Come back, I say!" and, throwing up a flap of the counter, he ran out of his stand and after the auto-stage. Asa Lemm did not know what to make of the hullaballoo. People were rushing toward the stage from all directions, and many were pointing their fingers at him. He felt a tug in the rear, but could not put his hand back to the button on which the wire was fastened for fear of falling from the stage step. "Stop that stage! Stop that stage, I tell you!" bawled the newsstand keeper. "He's running off with my magazines!" And then the crowd set up a roar of laughter. "I ain't got no time to waste. I'm behind time already!" yelled back the auto-stage driver. "What do you want, anyway?" "Oh, my! did you ever?" screamed Martha, dropping several of the postcards she had purchased. "Just look at all those magazines dangling after that man!" screamed Mary. And then, as she caught sight of Andy and Randy, both doubled up with laughter, she continued: "I'm sure those twins must have done it!" Jack and Fred had also come up, and both were on a broad grin. In the meanwhile the stage moved on with Asa Lemm still dragging the wire and the periodicals attached to it behind him. "Hurrah! he believes in loading up on information!" cried Andy gaily. "He's what you can call a real live wire!" added his twin. "Come back with those magazines, I tell you!" bawled the stand keeper, shaking his fist at Asa Lemm. "Come back, I say!" And then he set off on a run after the stage. He could not catch up to the vehicle, but he did catch up to the end of the wire, and as he stepped on this there was a tearing sound from beyond, and away came the button from Asa Lemm's coat, bringing with it a strip of cloth. "Hurrah, he's got his magazines back!" exclaimed Randy. "And a souvenir of Asa Lemm's coat to remember him by!" added his brother. Just as Andy said this a train came rolling into the station. "I hope that is our train," cried Fred. The boys ran around to the other side of the station and found out from the conductor that the train which had come in was that for which they had been waiting. They at once called to the girls; and all lost no time in hurrying on board. "Wait! I want to see the end of this!" cried Andy, and threw up a window. He stuck out his head, and as the train rolled away from Raymonton he was just in time to see Asa Lemm pulled from the step of the auto-stage by the irate man from the newsstand. Then the former Hall professor was tripped up and sent flat on his back in the dust of the road. CHAPTER XIV BACK TO COLBY HALL "Well, that is where we got back at Asa Lemm!" cried Randy, after all of the Rovers had gazed out of the car windows as long as the scene near the auto-stage remained in view. "I'll wager that stand keeper is mad," said Jack. "And what a beautiful coat old Lemm has, with the tail torn to ribbons!" Fred added. "Oh, I think you boys are simply dreadful!" cried Mary, but she smiled as she spoke. "Don't you think you were rather hard on the professor?" questioned Martha dubiously. "No, I don't!" answered Andy promptly. "He treated us as mean as dirt while he was at Colby Hall. He was more than stern--he was thoroughly unreasonable! That's why Colonel Colby discharged him." "And please to remember how he backed up Slugger Brown's father on Snowshoe Island," added Randy. "He was perfectly willing to swindle old Barney Stevenson out of his property. He deserves no sympathy." The remainder of the journey to Haven Point passed without special incident. The boys and the girls had sent word ahead that they were coming, and when they reached the town they found Bob Nixon there with one of the Colby Hall turnouts, and also a driver with a stage from the girls' school. "Well, here is where we part and get back to the grind," said Fred, after he and Jack had placed their sisters' baggage in the proper car. "Good luck to both of you girls!" cried Jack. The girls were soon started off in one direction, and then the boys started off in the other. The latter were still some distance from Colby Hall when they saw Spouter Powell and Gif Garrison approaching on foot. "Glad to see you back!" cried Spouter, as he climbed into the machine. "We've got great news," announced Gif, his eyes beaming. "Our fathers have volunteered for the war!" broke out Spouter. "Really?" came from the Rover boys. All were much interested, although Andy and Randy looked a trifle disturbed. The fact that their own father would have to remain behind while all of the others were going to the front was continually in the minds of the twins. They felt much disappointed. "When did you get the news?" questioned Jack. "It came in by the first mail this morning," returned Spouter. "I got a letter, and so did Gif. My father and Mr. Garrison are both going to do their best to join the crowd from Putnam Hall and Brill College." Of course the Rovers wanted to know more particulars, and they were given so far as Spouter and Gif knew them. "And we've got more news, too," announced Gif. "They've finally settled on the place where we are to have our annual encampment." "And where will that be?" asked Randy eagerly. "We're to go to Barlight Bay on the Atlantic coast. It's quite a distance from here." "Barlight Bay!" exclaimed Jack. And then he looked inquiringly at Fred. "Isn't that in the vicinity of Camp Huxwell?" "Sure it is!" answered Fred. "They are almost side by side." "I asked about that," said Spouter; "and Captain Dale told me that our camp and the government camp will be not very far apart. There is a thick belt of timber and some rocky land between." "Why then, we'll be close to our fathers!" cried Fred joyfully. "This suits me right down to the ground!" and his face showed his delight. "Gee, I wish we were going under canvas to-morrow!" sighed Jack. The next day found the Rovers deep in their studies. The examinations previous to the annual encampment were now close at hand, and all were anxious to make a good showing. "Because, you see, it's this way," said Jack to his cousins, and especially to the fun-loving twins. "We didn't come here merely to cut up and have a good time. Our folks sent us to Colby Hall so that we would settle down and get good educations. If we don't make a good showing, you know how disappointed every one of them will be." "Oh, I'm going to study like an Indian," answered Andy quickly. "I'm going to cut out every bit of horseplay until after the examinations are over." "And so am I," added Randy. And, strange as it may seem, the twins kept their word, and as a result, when the examinations were held for the term, both came through with markings which were exceedingly gratifying. Jack and Fred likewise did very well, for which they were thankful. They telephoned the results to their sisters, and got back word from Clearwater Hall that Martha and Mary were also coming through finely. "And what about Ruth and May?" questioned Jack, who was on the 'phone, with Fred beside him. "Ruth is at the head of the class," announced Martha, over the telephone. "May will stand third or fourth." "Then give them both our congratulations," said Jack. "And also our best regards," added Fred, crowding his cousin to one side. "Hold the wire a minute and you can talk to them yourselves," said Martha. And a minute later Jack was talking to Ruth and later still Fred managed to get in a few words with May. Following the examinations, Colonel Colby called the entire school together, and then announced that he was going to take his departure for Camp Huxwell and would leave the scholars in charge of Captain Dale and Professors Grawson and Brice. "I am sorry to leave you," announced the colonel, "but I have accepted the call of our country and shall go to the training camp without further delay. But you all know Captain Dale very well, and I feel sure that you will be glad to learn that he will have charge during the annual encampment. He will be assisted by the professors and some others, and all arrangements have been perfected for making this outing a great success. "With talk of war filling the air, we shall try to show what Colby Hall can do in the way of first-class military training. Captain Dale will see to it that you are given an opportunity to show what you can do at target and bayonet practice, and in marching and other camp activities. There will, of course, be the usual athletic contests, and as you are going down to the coast, you will likewise have an opportunity to make use of the water." Here the colonel paused, and there was a faint handclapping, quickly followed by a generous round of applause. "Evidently you all like the idea of going in camp near the water," said Colonel Colby, smiling. "It's dandy!" called out Andy, and at this there was a general laugh. "Before you depart for Camp Barlight, as the place will be called, Captain Dale will hold the annual election of officers. As the old cadets here know, no cadet who has not been at this school for at least six months can hold any office in the battalion. Apart from that rule, the cadets can make up their tickets to suit themselves. You will first vote for a major, then for three captains, one each for Companies A, B, and C, and then for two lieutenants for each company. The other officers, including the quartermaster, will be selected by Captain Dale and the professors. "And now, young gentlemen, I must bid you good-bye, and I trust that you have a good time during the encampment. As I expect to be at Camp Huxwell for some weeks at least, I shall probably have the opportunity from time to time of coming over to see how you are getting along." Colonel Colby bowed and stepped back, and again there was a round of applause. In the midst of this Major Ralph Mason arose and walked to the front. "Colonel Colby," he said in a loud voice, as soon as the applause had subsided, "in the name of the battalion which I have the honor to command, I wish to thank you for all your kindness to us as students here, and we trust you will accept our best wishes for good luck to you in the course you are taking. We feel sure that with such men as you in our army Uncle Sam is bound to help very materially in winning this World War. "And now, sir, as a token of our esteem, and also as a reminder of what we hope you will do to the enemy, allow me, sir, in the name of all the cadets of Colby Hall, to present you with this." As the young major concluded he drew from behind him a leather case which he sprung open as he presented it to the astonished master of the institution. There, in the case, rested a very fine automatic pistol, its polished handle engraved with Colonel Colby's name and also the fact that it was presented to him by the school, with the date. The hat had been passed around among the boys for contributions to this gift, and every cadet had given something. Though the colonel was much astonished, he was likewise greatly pleased at this evidence of their friendliness and interest in him, and he accepted the gift in a few words which showed his emotion. "If I ever get to France this automatic shall go with me," he announced. "And you can rest assured that if ever the opportunity comes, the weapon shall render a good account for itself." And following these remarks there was another round of applause, and then the school was dismissed. Of course the boys had known about the annual election for a long time, and there had been a good deal of wire-pulling over the question of candidates for the various offices. It was felt by many, including the Rovers, that Ralph Mason should remain the major of the school battalion, because he was so well liked and was such a thoroughly good officer. It was also felt that the captains of Company A and Company B should remain, and likewise several of the lieutenants. "What we want most is a new captain for Company C," said Spouter. "Yes, and we want two lieutenants for that company, too," put in Walt Baxter. "And the whole company wants to be jacked up," added Don Soppinger. "The way they have been drilling has been a disgrace to this school. They don't do half as well as the other companies." "Well, you must remember one thing," said Jack. "Company C was formed long after they had Company A and Company B. That company always got all the new fellows, and you can't expect new cadets to do as well as the old ones." "Yes, but now that they are getting ready to form a Company D, the fellows in Company C ought to be jacked up," said Fatty Hendry. "They need it." "Say, Fatty, do you want to become an officer of them?" queried Randy slyly. "Well, I wouldn't mind the job," answered the stout cadet. "I think I could boss 'em around a little better than Phil Huber did." Huber had been the former captain, but he had left the school, and the command was now in charge of the first lieutenant, a fellow named Gabe Werner. Now it chanced that Lieutenant Werner was not very well liked at Colby Hall. He was a tall, angular youth, with watery blue eyes and straw-colored hair, and he had a general manner about him which was anything but inviting. How he had ever gotten to be a lieutenant of the cadets was a mystery. "I think they'll dump Lieutenant Werner," remarked Fred. "I don't believe anybody wants him for an officer again." "I guess you're right," answered Dan Soppinger. "If anybody at all voted for Werner, it would be Bill Glutts." "Well, Glutts isn't any better than Werner," was Jack's reply. "He's a regular blockhead, in my opinion." Glutts was a youth who had come from the Middle West, and it was said that his father was in the wholesale butcher business. He was a broad-shouldered, beefy-looking youth, with prominent front teeth and a face that was far from inviting. "Say, Jack, why don't you run for captain?" queried Gif. "I'm sure our whole crowd would stand by you." "Oh, I don't know, Gif," returned Jack modestly. "I didn't expect to become an officer yet. Let some of the older cadets take hold. You might run yourself." "No, I don't think I want the job," answered Gif. "Maybe you'd like it, Spouter?" said Jack. "No, I'll give it up in your favor, Jack," was the prompt response. Spouter looked at the assembled crowd. "Say, fellows, what do you think of it? Shall we put up Jack Rover for captain of Company C?" "Sure!" "Jack will be sure to run well!" So the comments ran on, and almost before he knew it, Jack had been nominated by his friends for the position of captain of Company C. Then began an animated discussion over the other offices to be filled, and a little later Fred was nominated for a lieutenancy. CHAPTER XV THE ELECTION FOR OFFICERS "Jack, I hope you win out in that election," said Fred, after the conference had come to an end and the cadets had dispersed. "I hope you win out, too, Fred," was the quick reply. "I think if anybody has a job to get elected, it will be you, Jack," came from Randy. "You can bet your bottom dollar that Gabe Werner will make every effort to secure that office." "Well, as he is acting captain now, perhaps he deserves it," answered Jack slowly. "He deserves nothing!" came promptly from Andy. "He's a regular bear. He never has any consideration whatever for the cadets under him. Why, only last week it made my blood boil the way he treated a couple of new fellows. Of course, they didn't know what he wanted, but that's no reason why he should howl at 'em the way he did. If he had done that to me, I'd have thrown my gun at his head." What had been said about Gabe Werner's ambition to become the regular captain of Company C was true. The angular lieutenant was of the opinion that the place belonged to him, and he did not hesitate to tell this to all those with whom he was intimate. Now that Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell had left Colby Hall for good, Henry Stowell had established himself as a satellite of Werner, doing all the mean little jobs the big cadet desired. "Of course you'll be elected," declared Codfish to the lieutenant, when the talk over the coming election was rife. "The place belongs to you." "Sure it does," answered Gabe Werner readily. "But I suppose I've got to work like the rest of the candidates if I want it," he added, heaving a deep sigh. Werner was lazy by nature, and he did not like the idea of electioneering, any more than he did the idea of studying. "I'll tell you what you ought to do, Gabe," said Bill Glutts. "You ought to give the boys a spread, or treat them to an entertainment in town. That would nail the captaincy for you." This idea pleased Werner, and, as a result, that night he invited all the cadets he dared to approach to the moving-picture theater at Haven Point. A crowd of about thirty accepted this invitation, and they not only went to the show, but later on dined at one of the restaurants at Gabe's expense. "That sort of thing makes me tired," declared Spouter, when he heard of this. "Why, the poor fish is trying to buy votes!" At first Dan Soppinger had said that he did not care to run for the captaincy, but a number of his friends insisted that he allow his name to be put up, and finally he consented. Others went to Walt Baxter and told him that he must run, too. "You've simply got to do it, Baxter," said Ned Lowe. "If you don't, some of the fellows who might vote for you will go over to Werner, and he'll have a walkover from the start." "All right then, if you want me to stand I'll do it," said Walt. "Just the same, I think Jack Rover ought to have it, and I'm going to vote for him." The voting was to be held on the following Saturday, and on Monday morning the cadets were to leave Colby Hall for Camp Barlight. Consequently between getting ready to vote and preparing for the encampment, all of the students were unusually busy. The election was held in the main hall of the school, and was presided over by Captain Dale and Professor Brice. It was announced that the total number of votes to be cast would be 111 and the number necessary for a choice would consequently be 56. "We will ballot for the major and the three captains separately," announced Captain Dale. "Then we will have the balloting for the lieutenants." The electing of a major for the next term proved easy. Ralph Mason obtained ninety-one votes on the first ballot and was consequently declared reëlected. "Hurrah for Major Ralph Mason!" cried one of the cadets, and the cheers were given with a will. Then followed the balloting for the captain of Company A and the captain of Company B, and they were likewise reëlected, and there was more cheering. "We will now ballot for a captain for Company C," announced Captain Dale. There was a murmur, and the cadets once more formed a long line and marched up to the platform, where each deposited his ballot in a big box, located there for that purpose. There was a smug grin on the face of Gabe Werner when he dropped in his vote. It seemed to show that he felt sure of being elected. A few minutes of silence occurred, during which time the votes were being tabulated, and then Professor Brice struck a bell to attract the attention of the cadets, and, stepping forward, read the result: "Total number of votes 111 Necessary to a choice 56 Gabe Werner has 32 Jack Rover has 32 Daniel Soppinger has 30 Walter Baxter has 17." At this there was a murmur of voices, and all the cadets looked at each other. "As no candidate has received the required number of votes, I will leave you for ten minutes to talk matters over among yourselves, and then we will have another vote," announced Captain Dale. "Say, Jack! what do you know about that?" cried Fred. "You and Werner are tied for first place!" At this moment Walt Baxter came up. "Listen, Jack," he said in a low voice. "I voted for you, and I would just as lief withdraw in your favor, but some of the fellows who voted for me say if I withdraw they will vote for Werner, so I'll have to stay on the ticket. But it's a blamed shame!" and Walt's face showed that he meant what he said. "Say, Bill, we've got to get a hustle on and get more votes," growled Gabe Werner to his crony, as they walked over to a corner. "I don't see how we're going to do it. I've talked to every fellow in the school," said Glutts. "I'm entitled to this captaincy, and if they won't give it to me I don't want anything," growled Gabe Werner. It angered him to think that in spite of all the money he had spent he could muster up only thirty-two votes. While this was going on, Dan Soppinger had been circulating among those who had been supporting him. Dan was gratified over the showing he had made, but he did not want the position. Now he came up and announced that he was going to withdraw. "I'm withdrawing in favor of Jack Rover," he declared in a loud voice, and went around the hall repeating this statement. "I want everybody who voted for me to vote for Jack." "Not much we won't!" cried one cadet. "If you won't run, we'll vote for Walt Baxter." "We want Bart White to run!" put in another cadet. "All right, suit yourselves," said Dan, with a shrug of his shoulders. "Just the same, I'm out of it, so I don't want anybody to vote for me again." It was not long after this that the call came for the next ballot, and once again the cadets filed up and placed their slips of paper in the box. Then the counting began and was soon finished. Both Captain Dale and Professor Brice seemed to be much disturbed over something that had occurred, and the bell for silence rang out sharply. "This ballot cannot be counted!" declared Captain Dale, in a stern voice. "There are but one hundred and eleven cadets present, but one hundred and fifteen votes have been cast, showing that some person or persons voted more than once. You will immediately prepare new votes and stand in one long line, handing each vote to me as you come up." "Gee! what do you know about that?" whispered Randy. "I wager some of the Werner crowd did that," remarked his twin. "How foolish to do anything of that sort," said Jack. "They ought to have known they couldn't get away with it." "Maybe they thought because Dan Soppinger retired some of the fellows wouldn't vote," suggested Fred. "Well, if they thought that, they got left." The next vote proved correct so far as numbers went, and once more the figures were announced: "Number necessary to a choice 56 Jack Rover has 54 Gabe Werner has 30 Walter Baxter has 20 Bart White has 7." "Hurrah, Jack, you're going up!" cried Fred enthusiastically. "You're only two votes shy of a choice," said Randy. "I guess you would have been elected if Bart White hadn't gone on the ticket," returned Spouter. At that moment both Walt Baxter and Bart White came rushing up to Jack. "I'm going to retire in your favor, Jack," said Walt. "So am I," declared Bart. "Well, now, I didn't expect this," stammered Jack, hardly knowing what to say. "I can't get it anyway," declared Walt, "and as Werner is falling behind, I think it's perfectly safe now to withdraw." "And I only went in to keep the votes from going to Werner," declared Bart. Both of these cadets hustled around among their supporters and let all in the Hall know that they were withdrawing from the contest. In the meantime Gabe Werner and his cronies circulated among the crowd, and it was afterwards said that Werner even went so far as to attempt to buy some votes, but without avail. Then the next ballot was called for, and it was quickly cast. "We have at last reached a result," announced Captain Dale. "And I am glad of it." And then he read the figures. "Total number of votes cast 111 Necessary to a choice 56 Jack Rover has 81 Gabe Werner has 30." "Hurrah! Jack Rover is elected captain of Company C!" and a great cheer went throughout the hall. "He got all the votes that were cast for Baxter and White!" cried Fred. "Right you are!" added Gif. "Gabe Werner did not get a single vote more than he had before." "And that was two less than he got at the start," added Spouter. "I hereby declare Jack Rover duly elected captain of Company C for the ensuing term," said Captain Dale. "Captain Rover, if you will come forward, I shall be glad to shake hands with you," he added. And then, as Jack walked to the platform to grasp the instructor's hand, there was a great burst of applause. "Never mind, Gabe. We'll make you lieutenant again, anyway," declared Bill Glutts, while this scene was being transacted. "I don't want to be lieutenant again!" howled Gabe. "If they don't want me for a captain, they needn't have me for anything. I'll decline to run!" And thus speaking, Gabe Werner marched out of the room in great disgust. "He sure is a sweet one!" was Gif's comment. A little while later it was announced that the balloting for lieutenants would begin. The names of eight aspirants were put up, including that of Fred Rover. There was a good deal of wire-pulling, and it took nine ballots to decide the various choices. But in the end Fred became the first lieutenant of the company of which Jack had been made captain. "Good for you, Fred! I congratulate you!" cried Jack, catching his cousin by the hand. "I guess we'll all do that," declared Randy. "Three cheers for Lieutenant Fred Rover!" exclaimed Spouter, and the cheers were given with great heartiness, for Fred had made himself a favorite throughout the school. "And now to get ready to go to Camp Barlight" said Andy. "My, but won't we have the best times ever while we are under canvas!" "I hope we do," answered Jack. But a little later the newly-elected captain became somewhat doubtful of this. As he and Fred, followed by the twins, went upstairs to their rooms they passed Gabe Werner and his cronies in the main corridor. The angular ex-lieutenant did not say a word, but he glared at Jack in a baneful way that boded no good. "Werner has got it in for you, Jack," remarked Andy, when the four Rovers were in their rooms and the doors had been closed. "I guess you're right," was Jack's reply. "Well, I'm not going to worry. I think I can take care of myself." CHAPTER XVI OFF FOR THE ENCAMPMENT As was the usual custom at Colby Hall, all of the old officers and those newly elected were invited to participate in a dinner given by Captain Dale. This was held in a private dining room of the school, and was usually a function looked forward to with much pleasure by those to take part. "Now we've got to look our prettiest," announced Fred to Jack. "Of course, we'll wear our new officers' uniforms." The dinner proved to be one long to be remembered by the two Rover boys, and they were sorry to think the twins had not been present to see what took place. There were some speeches and a good deal of merrymaking, and the two Rovers were congratulated over and over again on having been elected. "I'm mighty glad to think you're going to be at the head of Company C, Captain Rover," said Major Ralph Mason. "And glad, too, that your cousin Fred is going to be a lieutenant of that company. I shall expect great things from both of you." "Well, I intend to do the best I can," announced Jack modestly. There was but one drawback to the affair. Gabe Werner did not show himself, nor did he send any letter of regret to Captain Dale. "Gabe is sore, all right enough," declared one of the under officers. "When I asked him if he was coming to the spread, he merely shook his head and looked like a thundercloud." Sunday proved rather a busy day for all of the cadets, yet the Rovers, along with a number of others, went to Haven Point where they met some of the girls. All attended services at one of the local churches. Then the young folks paired off, the boys walking with the girls to Clearwater Hall. "Oh, Jack, you can't think how proud I am to know they have made you a captain!" said Ruth, who was walking beside the newly-elected officer. "And I think you ought to be very proud yourself." "I admit it makes me feel pretty good, Ruth," he answered. "But you'll have to be careful," went on the girl anxiously. "Randy told me on the way to church that a cadet named Werner is very angry because you cut him out of one of the captaincies." "I'm not afraid of Werner or any of his crowd!" "Yes, but he may try to make trouble, Jack. Don't forget how Brown and Martell acted--and are acting still." "I won't forget, Ruth." And then, making sure that none of the others was noticing, he pressed the girl's fingers tightly within his own. "It's awfully nice to have you so interested," he whispered. And, although she did not answer to this, she gave him a bright look that lingered in his memory for many a day afterward. In the meantime Fred was walking along with May Powell, and had also been congratulated on attaining a lieutenancy. May was full of fun, and her eyes showed it. "I suppose some day it will be Major Fred Rover!" she exclaimed. "My, won't you look grand with a whole lot of gold lace, and a cockade hat, and all that sort of thing!" "No gold lace for mine, May!" he laughed. Spouter and Gif were walking with Martha and Mary, and soon the whole crowd reached Clearwater Hall. Here the boys had to say good-bye to the girls, and this was rather a lingering process, since the young folks did not know exactly when they would get together again. "But don't forget we expect to march past here to-morrow morning about ten o'clock," said Jack. "If you are really patriotic you'll be watching for us and have your flags out." "Don't you worry about that," answered Ruth. "We're going to ask Miss Garwood for a special recess in honor of the occasion." The evening was spent by the boys in packing their things and in otherwise getting ready for the encampment. There was, however, the usual song service at eight o'clock in the assembly room of the Hall, on this occasion presided over by a minister who had stopped at the Hall to visit his two nephews, who were pupils there. The minister was a good speaker, and he made an address which the cadets listened to with close attention. Early in the morning came a sound that told all the cadets that the annual encampment was now at hand. Instead of the school bell ringing, there were the notes of two bugles ringing through the corridors. Then from outside came the vigorous rattle of several drums. "Hurrah! No more studying! From now on we are soldier boys!" exclaimed Andy, and he bounced out of bed. "Get up, you sleepyheads!" And in the exuberance of his spirits he threw a pillow at his twin's head. Randy returned the compliment by throwing a shoe at him, hitting Andy in the stomach. "Hi! What's this?" exclaimed Fred, scrambling up at the confusion. "Over the top at the Huns!" shouted Andy, charging on Randy and sending him backward into a stand loaded with books. "Forward, the light brigade, and on to the gas attack!" "Hi! You fellows are making altogether too much noise," came from Jack. "Attention, company! Line up! Eyes right!" "My! but don't the bugles and drums sound fine?" was Fred's comment, as he hurried into his new uniform, of which, it may be said privately, he was exceedingly proud. "I suppose we won't have a bit of fun at this outing, with a captain and a lieutenant keeping their eyes on us," grumbled Andy; but, of course, he did not mean what he said. "Sure, I'll make you line up and toe the chalk mark," answered Jack, with a grin. "You won't dare to call your souls your own. If you infringe one fixed rule the sixteenth of an inch, I'll place you in the guardhouse." "Yes, and we'll feed you on nothing but dry bread and dry water," added Fred. "Good-night!" came solemnly from Randy. "Please lead me to the dungeon at once! What's the use of looking at the sunshine and trying to smile!" It had been decided that the cadets should march to Barlight Bay, which was about thirty-five miles distant. They were to take two days for the journey, stopping over night on the outskirts of the village of Rackville, where Captain Dale had already rented a farm field for that purpose. All of their belongings were to be transported in several motor trucks, engaged for that purpose, these trucks being under orders from the battalion quartermaster. Of course, it must be understood by my young readers that Colby Hall was only a military school for boys, and that the military matters there, while conducted somewhat on the lines of those at West Point, were by no means so strict. The officers, from the young major down, were expected to do their duty the same as if they were at a government camp, but all were under the supervision of Captain Dale and the Hall professors. More than this, the boys did not pretend to do any of the camp cooking or any of the menial camp labor, this being accomplished by hired helpers. And again, the officers were only officers while on parade or during special hours of duty--otherwise they were just like the other cadets and were treated accordingly. There was the usual morning roll call, and also the drill and inspection, this time the latter being unusually severe, for Captain Dale wanted to make sure that everything was right before the cadets left the Hall. The parade around the grounds, however, was omitted, and the lads went in to their breakfast half an hour earlier than usual. Then it was announced that they would leave the Hall at exactly nine o'clock. At the roll call and inspection it was a new thing for Jack to take command of Company C, and for Fred to fill the position of a lieutenant; but both acquitted themselves creditably, and for this received a nod of approval from Captain Dale. On Sunday evening it had been rumored about that Gabe Werner had decided not to attend the encampment. This rumor had its foundation in the fact that the angular ex-lieutenant had sent a telegram to his father explaining the situation and stating he wanted to come home. In return, however, Mr. Werner commanded his son to remain at Colby Hall, and so, much against his will, Gabe was on hand when the cadets were ready to march away. "But I ain't going to do anything that I don't want to do," growled Gabe to Bill Glutts. "You just wait and see!" "Maybe you'll get a chance to make it warm for Jack Rover and his bunch," suggested the wholesale butcher's son. "You bet!" answered Werner laconically. The cadets were all assembled on the parade ground, and the motor trucks, piled high with all of their belongings, as well as the camping paraphernalia, had already left the grounds. There was a final rattle of drums to call any cadets who might still be missing. "Battalion attention!" commanded the young major, after he had received his orders from Captain Dale. At once the three companies came to attention. "Shoulder arms!" came the command a few seconds later. "Forward--march!" Boom! Boom! Boom, boom, boom! went the drums, and the Colby cadets stepped off gaily, while the professors and helpers left behind at the Hall cheered loudly and waved their hands. From the big flagstaff on the campus floated a large American flag, this being run up every morning at sunrise and taken down at sunset. Soon the drums gave a preliminary rattle, and then the shrill fifes struck up into a lively marching air, and one company after another passed out of the Hall grounds and on to the road leading to Haven Point. "Hay foot, straw foot!" murmured Andy jokingly to Randy, who was marching by his side. "I wonder how our feet will feel after we have covered the eighteen miles we have to do to-day?" "Oh, that will be all right, I think," answered his twin. "I've done more than eighteen miles in a day, and so have you." It did not take long for the cadets to reach the outskirts of Haven Point. Their coming was expected, and quite a crowd of town folks were out to see the parade. Some few had put out flags, for all were proud to have such an institution as Colby Hall in that vicinity. The moving-picture theater was decorated with flags from top to bottom, and across the street the enterprising manager had hung a big banner inscribed with the words: _Good-bye COLBY HALL Have a good time, boys_ Captain Dale was marching beside Major Mason, and as the school came in sight of this banner the major whispered a few words to the elderly military man, who nodded in approval. Then the young major turned and, walking backward, cried: "Battalion attention! Three cheers for Mr. Felix Falstein!" The cheers were given with a right good will, and a number of the cadets swung their caps at the manager of the moving-picture theater, who stood in the doorway, smiling at them. The cheer had been totally unexpected, and Mr. Falstein grew exceedingly red in the face. But he bowed and smiled, and kept on bowing, in the meantime waving his hat at the cadets, until they had passed up the street. Leaving Haven Point behind, and with a generous following of small boys, the cadets continued their march by taking to the road leading past Clearwater Hall. Here another surprise awaited them. The girls of the school had strung long lines of colored paper across the roadway, and had decorated the entire front of the school grounds with small flags. More than this, all of the girls were out in a long line facing the roadway, and many of them carried flags and wore red, white and blue ribbons. "Good-bye! Have a good time!" called out Ruth. "Don't forget to write!" came from Martha. "Oh, but you do look nice!" called May. And then there was such a babble of exclamations that hardly a word of what was said could be understood. And in the midst of this the cadets gave a rousing cheer for Clearwater Hall and everybody connected with that school. "Oh, but don't they look lovely!" cried May, when the boys had passed. "Did you see Jack at the head of the third company?" she asked of Ruth. "Why, of course! And he certainly looked every inch a captain." "I wish I were a boy and could go along!" sighed Mary. "Oh, I guess we all wish that," declared Ruth. "But come--let us give them another cheer!" And this rent the air just as the cadets reached a turn in the road and passed out of sight. CHAPTER XVII A NIGHT ON THE ROAD "This is the life, boys!" "Ho for a life under canvas!" "Beats rooming in a school all hollow, doesn't it?" "Exactly so! And think--we haven't any studying to do. Oh, boy!" and Andy, who was the speaker, felt so light-hearted that he turned several cartwheels on the grass. "Say, you look out, Andy, or somebody will grab you and put you in the circus," was Spouter's comment. The Colby Hall cadets had finished their first day's march and were now in camp on the outskirts of Rackville. They had made the hike without mishap, stopping at noon for lunch along the roadside. The encampment consisted of three long lines of tents, one for each company. As was the usual practice, the cadets had erected the canvases themselves, doing it with real military precision. They were in the center of a large, sloping field, one end of which bordered the road running into Rackville. The field was a pasture lot belonging to a large farm owned by a man named Oliver Appleby. Appleby owned a dairy farm, and employed about a dozen hired hands. "I know one thing we'll get here," remarked Fred, after a look around. "We'll probably get all the milk we want to drink." And in this surmise he was correct. Captain Dale had made the necessary arrangements with Oliver Appleby, and that evening and the following morning the cadets were furnished with the best of cream and also all the fresh milk they desired. After the setting up of the tents came supper, and my readers can rest assured that none of the boys were "backward about coming forward," as Randy expressed it. All were as hungry as wolves, and the amount of food they stored away was simply astonishing. But Captain Dale had received orders from Colonel Colby that the students should be well treated, so everybody got all he wanted. "Gee! this is so different from a school I used to attend," remarked Fatty Hendry, with a sigh of satisfaction. "At that place we only got about half enough to eat, and many a time I had to go down to the village and buy something extra to keep from starvation." Having spent so many of their vacations at the old Rover homestead at Valley Brook, the Rovers were much interested in the Appleby place, and after the evening meal Jack and Fred took a stroll up to the cow barns to inspect the herd. Oliver Appleby had a number of prize cattle, of which he was very proud. "They are certainly beautiful cows," remarked Fred, when they were walking through the shed which housed the best of the herd. "They must have cost a mint of money." The two young officers were on the point of leaving the cow sheds when, quite unexpectedly, they ran into Jed Kessler. "Hello! I thought I'd see some of you fellers," cried the old dockman. "Out for your annual encampment, I understand." "Yes," answered Jack. "How are you these days? Have you got over the effects of that explosion?" "I'm about over it--although I haven't returned to work yet," answered Kessler. "You see, those awful shocks, and being thrown into the lake that way, kind of got on my nerves. My folks don't want me to go back until I'm feelin' stronger." "Have they resumed work at the shell-loading plant?" questioned Fred. "They're startin' up to-day. One gang is clearin' up the wreckage, while a number of the old hands are at work in the places that wasn't damaged very much. And say! I've got something to tell you that I know you'll be interested to hear," went on old Jed Kessler. "What is that?" questioned Jack. "I saw those two German-lookin' fellers again early this morning, when I was on my way here to visit my brother who works on this farm." "You did!" cried the two Rovers simultaneously. "Where were they?" added Jack. "They was down on the road that runs to Barlight Bay." "Walking?" queried Fred. "No, they was in an old wagon pulled by the sorriest lookin' nag I ever set eyes on. They had the wagon piled high with packages." "Were you sure they were the same men?" "I think they was the same. Of course, I wouldn't like to swear to it until I got a better look at 'em. They was just goin' past as I came in from a side road, and as soon as they saw me they whipped up their horse and started down the road in a cloud of dust." "You ought to have stopped them," said Jack. "How could I do that? I wasn't close enough to catch hold of the horse. And besides that, what chance would an old feller like me have against two husky men? More than likely, too, they was armed, while I didn't have anything--not even a cane." "But you should have notified the authorities," said Fred. "Oh, I did that, knowing that they was on the lookout for those fellers. I hurried to Rackville just as fast as I could, and called on the justice of the peace and the town constable. Then they got busy and telephoned to the next town and notified the police. They got a gang of six or eight men lookin' for the men and the wagon, but up to this afternoon they hadn't got any trace of 'em." "Well, that certainly is interesting," remarked Jack. "You say you are pretty sure they are the same fellows who were around the plant just previous to the explosion?" "Well, as I said before, I wouldn't like to swear to it until I got a better look at 'em. But those two fellers on the wagon had the same bushy black hair and whiskers and the same round faces. More than that, they wore the same slouch hats that the other fellers had." "Have you any idea what was in the packages in the wagon?" questioned the young captain. "Sounded to me as if it might be iron, or something like that. It jangled just like hardware." "It's queer they would be on that back road with such stuff," said Jack slowly. "Did the folks at Rackville think they might live down near the bay?" "They said there wasn't any folks around there so far as they knew that wore bushy black hair and black beards. They knew about everybody who lives within several miles of here," answered Jed Kessler. The two Rovers talked the matter over with the old man for a few minutes longer, the foreman of the dairy also having his say. Then the boys had to hurry back to the camp, to fulfill their duties as captain and lieutenant. As was to be expected, there was a certain amount of horseplay in camp that evening to which those in charge turned something of a blind eye. "We'll have to leave the boys let off steam a little," said Captain Dale to the professors who had come with him. "I think they'll soon settle down to regular routine." But the excitement of getting ready for the encampment, and the long tramp over the dusty roads, had tired all of the cadets, and it was not long before the great majority of them were ready to retire. Only a few, like Andy and Randy, wanted to continue the fun, but Jack and Fred quickly subdued the twins. "You'll have plenty of time for your jokes when we get into the regular camp," said the young captain. "Now you had better get a good night's rest, for we have a long hike before us for to-morrow--over the Lookout Hills." As members of Company C, Gabe Werner and Bill Glutts would have been under the direct command of Jack and Fred. This was a thorn in the side of the ex-lieutenant, and as soon as he had received word from home that he must remain at the school for the period of the annual encampment, he went to Captain Dale and asked to be transferred to another company, and requested that Glutts be transferred also. "I think I can understand your feeling, Werner," said Captain Dale kindly. "I am very sorry that you refused to run for a lieutenancy after your defeat. Which company would you like to go in--A or B?" "If it's all the same to you, Glutts and I would like to go into Company B." "Very well. I'll have the necessary shifts made, and you can report to the captain of that company before we start away." And so it was arranged. "The Rovers ain't going to get me under their thumb!" growled Werner to Glutts. "I know they would like nothing better than to find all sorts of fault and to get me into trouble." This, of course, was not true, because both Jack and Fred had decided to treat the defeated candidate with every consideration. "But I'm glad they've been transferred," said Fred, when he heard the news. "You're not half as glad as I am, Fred," answered the young captain. Jack and his two lieutenants occupied a tent together, while Andy and Randy were under canvas with Gif and Spouter. The night was a pleasant one, neither too hot nor too cold, and it was not long after the young cadets had turned in before most of them were sound asleep. But not so Gabe Werner and Bill Glutts. During the halt at noon for lunch, the cronies had held an animated conversation, and this talk had been continued after the battalion had gone into camp for the night. The subject of their discussion had been the question of getting square with Jack and Fred because of what had occurred during the election. Werner attributed his downfall entirely to the Rovers. "I'll show 'em a thing or two before I get through with 'em!" he asserted to his crony. "They can't walk all over me and get away with it!" "Well, Gabe, you know I'll be on deck to help you in anything you try to put over on 'em," responded the wholesale butcher's son. "Of course we'll have to be careful what we do," went on Werner. "We don't want to run afoul of Captain Dale or any of the professors. If we did they might set us some awful mean tasks to do while we were in camp." "Yes, we'll have to be on our guard and work on the sly." Neither Werner nor Glutts were particularly brilliant in evolving their scheme, but finally the ex-lieutenant hit upon something which he thought would answer. Then he told his crony of what had occurred to him. "That's the talk!" cried Bill Glutts, his eyes gleaming wickedly. "Let's go and do it this very night, just as soon as they are sound asleep. My, won't there be some rumpus in the morning when they wake up and find out what has happened!" CHAPTER XVIII ONE SURPRISE AND ANOTHER Fred Rover was so tired that he closed his eyes in slumber almost as soon as he touched his cot. But not so the young captain. Jack was fatigued, but he was also worried over some of the problems connected with his company, and these he tried to solve as he lay there in the darkness. As the cadets were to remain in this camp for but one night only, nothing had been done toward putting any flooring in the tents. The cots of the captain and the two lieutenants rested on the short grass of the pasture. More than this, as the night was rather warm, one of the tent flaps was left open for ventilation, and for the same purpose a corner of the canvas in the rear was turned up. As all of the cadets had tramped the distance from Colby Hall, no one was called on that night to remain on guard. In place of this a professor who had ridden over in an automobile agreed to sit up to see that nothing was stolen by any outsiders who might have an idea of doing such a thing. But no outsiders appeared in view, all of the curiosity seekers having left the pasture lot before it came time for the cadets to turn in. As a consequence, the professor had nothing to watch, and soon grew exceedingly sleepy. Sitting in the tonneau of an open automobile, he presently began to nod, and then his head fell forward on his breast. Jack had thought that he would soon drop to sleep, but the problems in his mind worried him so that presently he found himself wide-awake in spite of his fatigue. "Confound it! why can't I go to sleep?" he murmured to himself. Then, punching his pillow to freshen it up, he turned over and tried his best to drop off. He was just on the edge of dreamland when a sound from outside the tent attracted his attention. At first he thought some night bird or a bat might be flying around. But then came a low murmur of voices. "Somebody is up," he thought. "Perhaps it is Professor Grawson taking a walk around. He said he was going to keep an eye on things until morning." Jack lay perfectly still, and presently saw a ray of light shoot into the tent from the rear. It was the gleam of a small pocket flashlight. A thin silk handkerchief was over the end, so that the light was quite dim. "Sure this is the right tent, are you?" he heard, in a low tone. "Yes, this is the place," was the reply, in the faintest of whispers. "Keep quiet now, and if there is any alarm, run for your life." On hearing these words, the young captain was puzzled for the time being. But then he realized that the voices had a familiar sound, and he smiled grimly to himself. Slowly and cautiously Gabe Werner and Bill Glutts wormed their way into the tent by way of the opening in the rear. Gabe had the flashlight, and this he cast from one side to another, taking care, however, that the rays did not fall into the face of any of the officers. Jack kept his eyes closed when the marauders looked at him. But as they turned around he eyed them sharply. A line had been strung from the front to the rear pole of the tent, and on this were a number of hangers containing the three officers' uniforms and some of their other belongings. Stepping up to the uniforms, the two from outside looked them over quickly. Then Werner pointed to one uniform and to another, to signify that these belonged to Jack and Fred. Not a word was spoken by those who had come in to play their mean trick on the Rovers. Silently each drew out his pocketknife and opened one of the blades. Werner's scheme, to which Glutts had agreed, was to cut all the buttons from both uniforms and then slit the garments so that they would be next to useless. Then they were going to take the other belongings of the young captain and the lieutenant and throw them into a muddy brook located in one corner of the pasture. Watching the marauders as a cat might watch a mouse, Jack saw the pocketknives opened and saw the two rascally cadets take hold of his coat and that belonging to his cousin. "No, you don't, you rascals!" he cried loudly, as he bounced off the cot. "Leave those uniforms alone!" The interruption came so unexpectedly that both Werner and Glutts were dumbfounded. As Jack pounced on Gabe from the rear, Glutts, muttering a cry of terror, plunged through the opening of the tent by which he had come and fled down past the other nearby shelters at top speed. "Let go of me!" hissed Gabe Werner, as he turned swiftly to find himself in Jack's embrace. The flashlight had dropped to the ground and rolled under one of the cots. The young captain and the ex-lieutenant began to wrestle, and in doing this fell over on the cot occupied by Lieutenant Blake just as this lieutenant and Fred were awakening. "Hi! what does this mean?" spluttered Tom Blake, as both Jack and Werner came down on top of him. The combined weight of the three brought the cot down with a crash. In the meantime Fred had jumped up. "Say, what's all this row mean?" he demanded quickly. "Here is a fellow who was going to play a dirty trick on us!" shouted Jack. "Grab him! Don't let him get away!" He said this because in the tumble his hold on Gabe had been somewhat lessened, and in the mix-up Werner was now endeavoring to slip out of his grasp. All had fallen to the ground, and the ex-lieutenant kicked out vigorously with his heavy shoes, landing one blow in Blake's stomach, and the other on Jack's knee. It was so dark in the tent that but little could be seen, and as Fred made a leap forward he fell over somebody's legs and went down. Then in the mix-up Blake got in the way, and both Jack and Fred grabbed him, each by an arm, thinking he was the intruder. "Give in!" cried Jack sternly. "If you don't, it will be the worse for you." "You've got the wrong man, Captain!" cried Blake. And then, as he was released, he added: "Wait until I make a light so that we can see what we are doing." A lantern was hanging at the front of the tent, and, striking a match, Blake lit this. In the meantime, however, Fred saw a form disappearing through the hole in the back of the tent. "There he goes!" he yelled to Jack. "Stop him!" This suggestion was unnecessary, for Fred was already crawling through the opening. But, being aroused from a sound sleep so suddenly, he was still somewhat dazed, and by the time he had got on the outside of the tent and was on his feet, Gabe Werner was a good distance away and running like a deer. "Come back here!" shouted Fred, looking after the flying figure. In a few seconds Fred was joined by Jack. By this time the hubbub around the officers' tent had been heard by others, and even Professor Grawson was awakened from his nap. "What's the trouble here?" demanded the professor, leaping from the tonneau of the automobile and hurrying in that direction. "Two outsiders came into our tent," said the young captain. "What did they want?" "I guess they were going to play some trick. But I woke up and scared them off." "Do you wish to make any complaint, Captain Rover?" went on the professor, as Blake came around with the lantern and some other cadets began to gather. "I don't think so--at least not to-night, Professor," answered Jack, after a few seconds of rapid thinking. "I hope they didn't do any damage," went on Professor Grawson. "They didn't have time. Although in the struggle, when I tried to catch one of them, we fell over one of the cots and broke it down." "I see." The professor mused for a moment. "Well, perhaps you might better let the matter rest," he continued. He was afraid someone would ask him about himself, and then he would have to acknowledge that he had been asleep instead of remaining on guard. The excitement soon died away, the report being that some of the cadets had been starting in for a little more horseplay, but that the scheme had been nipped in the bud. Andy and Randy were on hand, and asked Jack for some of the particulars. "I'll tell you about it to-morrow," whispered the young captain. "But mum is the word just now." Returning to their tent after the excitement was over, the Rovers assisted Lieutenant Blake to put up his cot, so that he could sleep upon it. In doing this, Jack picked up the flashlight and the silk handkerchief with which the end had been covered. In the struggle the light had been turned off. Without saying anything about his find, the young captain slipped the articles into his pocket. Running as fast as his somewhat clumsy steps would permit, Bill Glutts reached the tent which he and Werner occupied along with two of their cronies, cadets who had asked them to join Company B just previous to their leaving Company C. Glutts had run so fast that he could hardly breathe, and he sank down on his cot gasping. "You look to be in a hurry, Bill," remarked one of the other cadets, who was awakened by the sudden entrance. "Shut up--don't make a sound!" whispered Glutts, half savagely. "If you do you'll get the whole bunch into trouble." While trying to regain his breath and to undress, Glutts kept his ears wide open, and presently heard Gabe Werner approaching. Then the ex-lieutenant dove into the tent, quickly tying the flaps behind him. Without saying a word, he began to pitch off his clothing. "Gee, I'm glad they didn't catch you, Gabe," muttered Glutts, in a hoarse whisper. "They did! But I gave 'em a couple of kicks they won't forget! And then I ran for it." "Do you suppose they recognized you?" "I don't think so. The minute we went down the light went out." "We sure did make a botch of that job," grumbled the wholesale butcher's son. "How was I to guess that they'd be awake watchin' us?" retorted the ex-lieutenant. "When I looked into the tent I thought the whole bunch was fast asleep. But shut up now--they may be coming this way, and we want to do the innocent act." "It's me for that," chuckled Glutts, and, having finished undressing, he turned over on his cot and commenced to snore. And in this Gabe Werner soon followed his example. Both waited impatiently for five minutes or more. Then, as nothing came to disturb them, both breathed more freely. "I guess they missed us," whispered Glutts. "It looks like it, Bill. But, say! I just thought of something," went on Werner, and the tone of his voice showed his dismay. "What's wrong now?" "In the struggle I dropped that flashlight and the silk handkerchief I had tied over it." "Gee, that's too bad! Did either of the things have your name or initials on it?" "No." "Well, that's good. You haven't got to admit that you own 'em." "That's all right, Bill, but that flashlight and the handkerchief cost money," grumbled Gabe Werner. After that there was silence, but it was a long while before either of the rascally cadets could get to sleep. Both were bitterly disappointed over the failure of their scheme to do Jack and Fred an injury, and both wondered whether they would be found out. CHAPTER XIX AT CAMP BARLIGHT There was so much to do in the morning, getting breakfast, taking down the tents and packing them in the motor trucks, and doing other necessary things, that the Rovers got no opportunity to talk over the stirring events of the night before. As officers Jack and Fred had many duties to perform. Jack and Fred noticed that Gabe Werner and Bill Glutts were in their usual places in the company ahead of them. Once or twice they caught the ex-lieutenant and his crony gazing at them furtively, but to this they paid scant attention. Both were satisfied that these two unworthies were the guilty parties. "I'm sure they are the ones," said Jack to Fred and the twins, when they had come to a halt at the roadside for the noon-day meal and the cadets had some time to themselves. The story had been told to Andy and Randy, who had listened with much interest. "What did you do with the flashlight and the handkerchief?" questioned Andy. "I've got them both in my pocket." "Are you going to return them?" asked Randy. "I don't see what else to do. I don't care to carry them about, and I don't care to give them up to Captain Dale or any of the professors. I wouldn't want Werner and his crowd to think we are squealers." The matter was talked over among the Rovers and Spouter and Gif, who were let into the secret. Spouter looked the flashlight over, and was certain that it belonged to Gabe. "I was down in Haven Point when he bought it," he said. "I was thinking of getting one of them myself, so I looked them over pretty carefully." "I've got an idea!" cried Andy. "Just let me have those things, and I'll see to it that Werner and Glutts get them back--and with a vengeance." "What's the scheme?" questioned his twin eagerly, while the others listened, being equally curious. "I'll put each of them in a real, nice, comfortable, little package," answered Andy, with a grin. "And then to-night, if I can get the chance, I'll put one in Werner's cot and the other in Glutts's." "What do you mean by a 'real, nice, comfortable, little package?'" questioned Fred. "Oh, a package that he'll feel when he lies down on it. Something that he won't be apt to overlook," returned Andy innocently. "Wow! that's the stuff," cried Randy eagerly. "Let's have those things, Jack. We'll fix 'em up O. K." "Well, you take care that you don't get caught at it," answered the young captain, and then passed the flashlight and the silk handkerchief over to the twins. The cadets were now among the Lookout Hills, and after the lunch hour they had a long hike over two more of the hills. On the top of the last of these, they paused to rest and to look around them. A grand panorama burst upon their view, stretching many miles in all directions. Directly ahead, through a somewhat dense forest, they could see Barlight Bay, the waters of which sparkled brightly in the sunshine. Off to the northeast were some cleared fields, and this spot was pointed out to them as that where the camp was to be located. To the southeast, beyond the timber and a series of jagged rocks, was another cleared space stretching for several miles, and this was dotted by numerous low buildings and tents. "That must be Camp Huxwell!" exclaimed Jack, as he looked at the buildings and tents. "It is," announced Captain Dale, who was standing near. "If you care to look through my fieldglasses, Captain Rover, you will be able to see the camp quite distinctly." "I'll be pleased to do that," answered Jack quickly, and took a good look through the glasses. Nearly everybody wanted to look, and Captain Dale good-naturedly allowed them to pass the fieldglasses around. "It's not quite so close to our camp as I thought it was going to be," remarked Fred disappointedly. "There's a wide belt of rocks and timber between." Barlight Bay, opening up on the rolling Atlantic, was shaped very much like a half moon. Within the semicircle there were two smaller bays, on the lower one of which was located Camp Huxwell, while on the upper one was to be established Camp Barlight. Between these two minor bays, as stated before, was a series of rocks and cliffs broken by a thick forest, with here and there patches of dense undergrowth. "I'd like to take a tramp through those woods some time while we are in camp," said Jack. "It might be lots of fun." "Oh, sure! We'll take more than one walk that way," answered Fred. "And don't forget, we want to go over to Camp Huxwell." The climb to the top of the last of the hills had tired a good many of the cadets, and they were glad that the remainder of the march would be downward instead of upward. Soon they were once more on the way, and reached the site of Camp Barlight about four o'clock in the afternoon. The motor trucks had preceded them, and as the work of getting the place into shape had been proceeding for over a week, the sights to be seen were decidedly interesting. At one end of the grounds there were three long rows of platforms. Upon each platform a tent was to be erected. To one side was a much larger platform, and over this had already been erected a large mess tent, made quite substantial by means of a wooden frame. This mess tent had behind it the cooking quarters. The opposite end of the camp site had been leveled for a parade ground, and here a tall flagpole had been erected, from the top of which floated the Stars and Stripes in all of their glory. "Oh, see how close we are to the water!" exclaimed Randy. "That looks mighty good to me. I'm going in swimming at the first opportunity." The cadets were allowed to rest for half an hour, and then they were set to work to erect the tents and otherwise get the camp in order. A few of the lads grumbled at the work to be done, but the most of them were cheerful and obliging. [Illustration: THEY WERE SET TO WORK ERECTING THE TENTS. _Page 199_] Down at the water's edge there was one spot where there was a wide, sandy beach, and here several small tents had been put up for use as bathing houses. "Any one who cares to do so can take a dip in the bay just before supper," announced Captain Dale, after the work of putting up the tents had come to an end. "But don't stay in longer than fifteen minutes." Away rushed about half of the cadets, the Rovers among them. They lost no time in divesting themselves of their uniforms and getting into their bathing trunks, and then there was another rush to see who could be the first in. "Wow, but it's cold!" exclaimed Fred, as he ran in up to his knees. "Cold!" exclaimed another cadet. "Gee, it's icy!" "This is the way to go in!" cried Jack, and, rushing in part way, he took a plunge and disappeared from sight. Almost immediately a score of cadets followed him. Then came a wild plunging and swimming about, those in the water sending the spray flying over those who were too afraid to enter. There was a good deal of horseplay, but every one enjoyed himself immensely. Following the evening meal the cadets were told they could do as they pleased until nine o'clock, but must not leave the confines of the camp. Many of the lads were too tired to do much of anything, and so sat around, taking it easy and talking over the prospects. "Don't forget that we have got to fix up things for Werner and Glutts," whispered Andy to his brother, when it was almost time to retire. "Right you are!" returned Randy. "Come on--let's slip away while the others are not noticing." The first move the twins made was in the direction of the cooking quarters of the camp. Watching their chance, they entered a tent where the stores were kept, and soon found what they were looking for--a sack filled with onions. "All we want is two good juicy ones," whispered Randy, and these onions were quickly procured. After this the two boys wandered down to the edge of the forest, and there picked up a number of sharp sticks and stones, placing these in two dirty towels they had procured at the cook's quarters. Then they retired to a corner of the woods where no one could observe them and went to work to finish what they had in mind to do. It was about an hour after this when taps was sounded and all the cadets were supposed to turn in for the night. Previous to this Andy and Randy had rejoined their cousins. "We've got 'em fixed, all right enough," whispered Randy. "Don't you fellows want to see the fun?" "Can't do it--not as captain of this company," answered Jack promptly. "If we got caught we'd have to do a lot of explaining," added Fred. "Well, that's where it pays to be a private," chuckled the fun-loving Rover. "Never mind, Randy and I will tell you all about it to-morrow, and we'll also tell you something else." The twins, along with Spouter and Gif, occupied a tent together; and, as luck would have it, this was almost in a direct line with the tent assigned to Werner and Glutts and two of their cronies. Watching their chance, the twins stole out of their own quarters and hurried over to the side of the tent occupied by their enemies. CHAPTER XX FIRST DAYS UNDER CANVAS "Gee, but I'm tired!" Andy and Randy heard Glutts grumble. "I'll bet I'll be stiff all over to-morrow morning." "It was too much of a hike over those hills," answered Werner, yawning and stretching himself. "I'll bet I'm getting a blister on my left heel." "Huh! I'll bet your left heel isn't any worse than my right shoulder from carrying that gun," growled the wholesale butcher's son. "That old piece of iron weighs about a ton." "Say, will you fellows shut up and get to bed?" grumbled one of the other cadets in the tent. "That's it!" came from the fourth occupant. "Do your visiting in the morning. With your monkeyshines last night, I'm all tired out now." Werner and Glutts wished to remonstrate, but did not dare, fearing that more might be said concerning the escapade of the night before. They undressed as quickly as possible, blew out the light, and then each threw himself on his cot. "Cats and dogs! what in thunder is this?" "Say! who put these rocks in my bed?" "Something stuck me right through the back!" "And I got stuck, too! Gee, this is the worst yet!" Such were some of the exclamations from Werner and Glutts as they sat up and then bounced off of their cots. Then, in a rage, the ex-lieutenant and his crony began to accuse the others in the tent of having played a trick on them. "We didn't do anything of the sort," growled one of the cadets. "You fellows make me tired," howled the other. "If you don't shut up and settle down I'm going to ask to be put in another tent." "I'm going to light up and see what that confounded thing in my cot is," growled Bill Glutts. Something had stuck him in several places on his back, and he felt anything but comfortable. Werner was rubbing himself and saying things under his breath that were far from complimentary. The lantern was lit, and both made an inspection of their cots. Each found a bundle tied up in a thin, dirty towel. "Rocks and sticks!" cried Gabe Werner, in deep disgust. "Hang the luck, anyway!" He took up the bundle and gazed at it closer. "Well, what do you know about this?" "What is it?" questioned his crony. "Here is a card! What do you know about this?" and he looked at a bit of pasteboard on which had been scrawled: "_Returned with the compliments of the Rovers._" "You might know they'd try to get back at us," remarked Glutts. "I'll fix 'em--you see if I don't!" and, in a rage, Gabe took up the bundle which had been placed on his cot and threw it with all his force to the back of the tent It struck a pole, and from inside came a crash. "Hello, you've broken something!" cried Glutts. "Maybe it's a bottle. I wouldn't put it past 'em to put one in there, thinking you might get cut with it." To this Werner did not reply. A sudden thought had come to his mind, and hastily he picked up the bundle, now somewhat torn, and opened it. In the midst of the sticks and stones lay his flashlight, bent and with the glass broken. "Huh! that's a fine way to treat your own property," remarked Glutts, with malicious humor. "Why didn't you examine the bundle before you threw it away?" "Aw, you shut up! You make me tired! Go on and look in your own bundle." The wholesale butcher's son did so, and there found another card from the Rovers. This was pinned fast to the silk handkerchief, which was neatly folded. "Well, anyhow the handkerchief is all right," said Glutts consolingly, as he passed it over. "I ought to make 'em pay for that broken flashlight," grumbled Werner. "I think I see you doing it," came with a laugh from the other. "You'll pocket your loss and say nothing about it." "We've got to get square with the Rovers for this." "I agree with you there. But now I guess we had better go to bed and try to get some sleep;" and then the two turned in once more. Andy and Randy, crouching low at the side of the tent, had, of course, taken in all that was said and done. Each was on a broad grin as they stole back to their own quarters. "Wasn't it rich?" chuckled Andy. "I had the greatest desire in the world to burst out laughing." "I could hardly keep still," returned his twin. "When Gabe threw his own flashlight away and busted it I nearly exploded." "But wait until to-morrow--oh, boy!" cried Andy. Both of the fun-loving youths slept soundly that night, but each was up early, and they lost no time in acquainting their cousins and Spouter and Gif and a few of the others with what was likely to happen next. As was usual with them, Werner and Gabe were late in getting up, so they had to hustle in order not to be late at roll call. Then they hurried back to their tents to get their mess kits, for this camp was conducted on real military lines when it came to eating. Each cadet had been provided with his own kit, including a big covered cup, plate, and knife, fork and spoon. "Now watch!" cried Randy to his chums. "I think you'll see something." "And maybe you'll smell something," added Andy, slyly. The cadets formed in a long line to be served by the cook and his helpers. Glutts was behind Werner, and the Rovers and their friends got close by, but not too close, being warned by the twins to keep a respectable distance. As they came up to receive their food, both Werner and Glutts opened their kits, and as they did this a powerful, penetrating smell filled the air around them. "Hello! what in blazes have you got in your kits?" cried one of the cook's helpers, who was ready to serve them. "Why, I ain't got----" began Werner, and then stopped short. The smell coming from his mess kit was sickening, and it made his eyes water until the tears ran down his cheeks. "It's onions!" yelled Glutts. "It's chopped-up onions!" "Gee, what a smell!" came from another cadet. "Say, who opened up the onion factory?" "Somebody shut the cover down before we faint!" Such were some of the cries that arose as the odor of the chopped-up onions floated out on the morning air. In the meanwhile Werner and Glutts stood there in helpless fashion, holding their mess kits at arm's length. Both were red-eyed, and looked as if they were weeping copiously. "Say, if this is a joke, it's a mighty poor one!" stormed the cook, stepping forward with a big ladle in his hand. "You chase yourselves and get out of here!" And he flourished the ladle so threateningly at the pair that Werner and Glutts ran as if for their lives. They did not look where they were going, and so dashed headlong into Professor Grawson, who was coming forward to get his own breakfast, for he had decided to rough it with the students. "Here, here! What is this?" exclaimed the professor, as some of the chopped-up onions flew over his clothing. "My, what an awful smell! What are you young gentlemen eating?" "We're not eatin' this stuff!" exclaimed Glutts. "Somebody played a joke on us. They filled our mess kits with onions." "Ah, I see." Professor Grawson held his nose and stepped back several feet. "Please do not come any closer. Raw onions are very healthful, so I understand, but I never cared for them." "We don't want 'em either. I hate 'em!" roared Werner. "Come on--let's go over to the water tank and wash up," he added to his crony; and then rushed away. By the end of three days the cadets felt quite settled at Camp Barlight. Everything had been put in the best of order, and drills and other exercises had been held daily. Captain Dale was teaching the cadets a new bayonet exercise, and one afternoon he had an officer come over from Camp Huxwell to show the students some of the fine points in handling a bayonet. This was decidedly interesting, especially to Jack, and he did his best to imitate what the regular military instructor had done. "No use of talking, when it comes to fighting the Huns our men have got to be pretty quick," was the young captain's comment. "I hope we see some of those exercises when we get over to Camp Huxwell," returned Fred. During those first days in camp the boys did not forget to write long letters to the folks at home, and also to the girls at Clearwater Hall, telling of how they were settled down. They invited the girls to call at the camp before going home, and a couple of days later came back word that the girls would do this, paying the visit in a touring car. "It will be mighty nice to have all of them here for a day," said Jack. "We can show them all around the camp and let them look at our exercises. And maybe we can have a little picnic in the woods, too." "That would suit me right down to the ground," answered Fred. To give the camp a truly military aspect, Captain Dale instituted a regular guard, both night and day. The cadets were given a password, and it was understood that no one could get into the camp without giving this. "Well, it's my turn to go on guard to-night," announced Randy one evening at supper time. "And I must say, I don't like the outlook much. It looks to me as if it was going to rain." "Well, you'll have only four hours of it, Randy," answered Jack. "That isn't so very long. What time do you go on?" "Twelve o'clock. Then I am to relieve Ned Lowe." Randy retired early, and was awakened about half past eleven o'clock. Then he dressed, got a cup of the hot chocolate that one of the cook's helpers had ready for the sentries, and then went out to join the detail which was to go on guard from midnight until four o'clock in the morning. The post which Ned Lowe had covered, and which was turned over to Randy, lay on the far side of the camp, not a great distance from where the cliffs overlooked the bay. It was a lonely spot, particularly on a night like this, when the sky was overcast and a rising wind was moaning through the branches of the trees. "See any ghosts to-night, Ned?" said Randy to Ned Lowe jokingly, as he relieved that sentry. "Well, I saw something, Randy," was the unexpected reply. "I've been trying to make up my mind for the last half hour what it was." "Saw something! What do you mean?" "I think I saw somebody sneaking through the woods over yonder," said Ned Lowe, pointing into the forest. "I shouted out, but no one answered, and then the figure--or whatever it was--vanished." "Oh, say! you must be seeing things," returned Randy lightly. "Just the same, I'll keep my weather eye open," he added. "Maybe some of the other cadets were out, and tried to play a trick on you." "No, I don't think it was one of our cadets," said Ned Lowe. "I think it was a stranger. But what he was doing around here at this time of night is a mystery to me." "Maybe he was a tramp, and thought he could get a chance to steal something," ventured the fun-loving Rover, sobering down. "Maybe. I guess you had better keep your eyes wide open," said Ned Lowe, and then turned away and left Randy alone on the post. CHAPTER XXI STRANGE NOISES Left to himself Randy tramped up and down slowly along the post assigned to him. The distance was several hundred feet, and at either end he met another guard. One of these was Codfish, and it must be admitted that the sneak of Colby Hall was thoroughly scared. "I don't like this at all," Codfish declared, when he and Randy met. "There's a terrible wind sighing through those trees." "Have you seen anybody?" questioned Randy. "I thought I did, but I'm not sure whether it was some person or an animal." "When was that?" "Nearly an hour ago." "Maybe it was the same person Ned Lowe thought he saw," went on Randy. "He called out, but nobody answered." "If I see anybody again, I'll shoot off my gun and call the corporal," announced Codfish. His whole manner showed that he was much disturbed. His post was along the edge of the wood beyond where Randy was stationed, but the latter saw that the sneak never walked very close to the trees and brushwood. The time dragged heavily, and Randy heaved a sigh when he looked at his watch and found that it was only one o'clock. The young cadet, as was the custom with many of the lads, had supplied himself with a thin cake of sweet chocolate, and to help pass the time he munched on bits of this. Then it commenced to rain, the scattering drops making quite a noise on the trees and fallen leaves. Fortunately Randy had brought his raincoat with him. It hung on a bush about midway between the ends of his post, and, turning, he hurried to get the garment. He was just in time to see a figure sliding away between the bushes. This figure had confiscated the raincoat only a few seconds before. "Come back here!" yelled Randy, in justifiable anger. "Come back, I say, or I'll fire at you!" "Fire, and be hanged!" came in a somewhat familiar voice. Evidently the speaker knew that Randy's rifle contained only blank cartridges. Randy's blood was up, for he felt certain the raincoat had been taken by one of his fellow cadets, probably Werner or Glutts. Leaping forward, he cleared some low bushes at a bound, and then made after the figure skulking along among the trees. "Drop that raincoat or I'll crack you on the head with my gun!" he roared, as he drew closer to the fleeing fellow. "Keep back, or it will be the worse for you, Randy Rover!" cried the other cadet, and now Randy recognized the voice of Gabe Werner quite distinctly. The fun-loving Rover did not reply to Werner. Instead he hurried on faster than ever, coming so close presently that he was able to reach the ex-lieutenant with his gun. He swung the weapon by the barrel, and the stock caught Werner a severe blow on his right shoulder. "Ouch!" yelled the big cadet, and his right arm dropped to his side and the raincoat slipped to the ground. "You're a fine rascal to steal my raincoat," remonstrated Randy, raising his gun as if to give the ex-lieutenant another blow. "Aw! can't you take a joke? You Rovers didn't think anything of smashing my flashlight." "You did that yourself, throwing it against your tent pole," answered Randy. "Huh! who told you that?" "Never mind who told me--I know it's the truth. Now, after this, Gabe Werner, you leave my things alone!" "Bah! don't talk to me, Randy Rover. If it wasn't that you have nearly broken my right shoulder, I'd give you the licking you deserve." "And for two pins, Gabe Werner, I'd report you for being absent from camp without leave," retorted Randy. "Now you get back to your tent just as fast as you can." "Rats! don't you talk to me," growled the ex-lieutenant. Nevertheless, he turned and walked through the woods toward the encampment, and then lost no time in hurrying to his tent. Randy slipped on his raincoat, and then resumed his duty as a sentinel. Back and forth he tramped, occasionally exchanging a word or two with Codfish or with the guard at the other end of his post. Thus two hours more dragged by. For half of that time it rained steadily, and if his feet did not get wet, they at least got very damp. Then, however, the shower passed on, and presently the morning stars shone forth. Randy was watching for the first streaks of the coming dawn and congratulating himself that his lonely vigil would soon come to an end, when an unusual sound broke upon his ears. From a distance came a curious clank! clank! followed by another sound that seemed to be the rattle of several chains. "Hello! where does that come from?" he asked himself. "Somebody must be getting to work pretty early in the morning." The noises kept up for a minute or two, and then abruptly ceased. The young cadet listened for quite a while, and then resumed his tramp. But a little later the strange clanking and rattle of chains was continued, and once more he halted, trying to locate the direction of the sounds. "Must come from somewhere in the woods," he reasoned, and he thought this rather strange, for he was of the opinion that this portion of the forest was entirely uninhabited. Several times after that he heard the strange clanking, and every time it was followed by a rattle as of chains. Then came a sharp tapping, as of a hammer on steel, and with this a curious humming sound, as if some big blowing machine was in action. "Maybe it's an airship, or something like that," he said to himself. "That humming sound may be the propellers going around. Maybe they had an accident and had to come down for repairs." It lacked ten minutes of the time for the new sentry to go on duty when Randy, who had come to a halt to learn if the curious clanking was still taking place in the woods, saw a movement behind some trees at a distance. "Must be either an animal or a man," he said to himself. With strained eyes he watched the location, and presently saw two slouch hats moving behind the top of some brushwood. Then for a brief instant he caught sight of the forms of two men as they disappeared in the distance. "I wonder if those were the two men who were making all that noise?" he mused. At such a distance it had been impossible for him to note anything of the features of the men. Both wore dark clothing and dark slouch hats, but beyond that he made out nothing concerning them. When the corporal of the guard came along to change the detail, Randy said nothing about the attempt of Gabe Werner to deprive him of his raincoat, but he did mention the sounds he had heard in the woods, and also the appearance of the two men. "Oh, I guess they were a couple of lumbermen," remarked the corporal, in an offhand way. "They occasionally come here, I suppose, to get a stick of timber." And not thinking it of any importance, he dismissed the matter from his mind. It was not until after the morning drill that Randy got a chance to speak to his brother and his cousins, telling them of the encounter with Werner. "I supposed he would try to get square!" cried Jack. "I'm mighty glad he didn't get away with it." Then Randy told of hearing the strange clanking noises and also the sounds of chains rattling and of some big blower in motion. "That's certainly curious," remarked Jack. "From what Captain Dale said, I thought these woods had no one in them. In fact, I supposed they belonged to the government and were a part of the Camp Huxwell reservation, and that all outsiders were to be kept out." "I thought the blowing sound might be an aeroplane's propellers," went on Randy. "I was thinking a machine might have been disabled and come down, and the fellows on board might be trying to make repairs." "They couldn't come down safely between those trees and on those rocks," cried Andy. "They'd break their necks!" "Well, I certainly heard something, and I saw two men." "Say, did those two fellows look anything like the two Germans Jed Kessler spoke about?" queried Randy's twin quickly. "I don't know about that. I only got a glance at 'em, and they were a long way off. All I know is that they were dressed in very dark clothing and wore dark slouch hats." "I think it might be a good thing to mention this to Captain Dale," said Jack thoughtfully. "The authorities are very anxious to get on the track of those two men who were seen around the ammunition plant. It won't do any harm to have this matter investigated." And then he and his cousin sought out the old West Pointer for that purpose. Captain Dale listened attentively, and nodded his head several times while Randy was speaking. "You are right, Captain Rover," he said to Jack. "And I'm glad that you brought your cousin here to tell me this. I'll go over to town this morning and report to the authorities. Of course there may be nothing in it, but as you remarked, it is a clue that should not be overlooked. Those two men with the wagon load of stuff certainly disappeared somewhere in this vicinity, and I know the forest is supposed to be a part of the government reservation, and no strangers would be permitted to go into it and cut down any trees. More than that, the strange sounds heard by your cousin Randy make it look as if something unusual was being done there." "Would there be any objection to our going into the woods and taking a look around?" questioned Randy. "Not the least, Rover. But I think you had better go slow, because if those men we are looking for are really there, and they know the authorities are after them--well, that may make them very desperate, and you may get into serious trouble." "Oh, I guess we could take care of ourselves," answered Randy quickly. "Of course, Jack and I wouldn't go alone. We would take quite a bunch with us. There is generally safety in numbers, you know," and he grinned. "All right, you may go if you want to. Only take good care of yourselves." So the matter was arranged, and in less than half an hour later the four Rovers, accompanied by Spouter, Gif, and Walt Baxter, set off into the forest. CHAPTER XXII AT THE RIFLE RANGES It did not take the cadets long to reach the place where Randy said he had noticed the two strangers. Here, to the surprise of the Rovers and their chums, they discovered a faint trail leading north and south through the forest. "The men must have been following this footpath," remarked Fred. "Now then, Randy, which way were they headed?" "They were headed north," was the reply. They found that following the footpath was by no means easy. It led in and out among big trees and around various clumps of bushes, and more than once they found themselves in a hollow where going was exceedingly treacherous. Then in spots they had to climb over the rough rocks. "Hello, here is something!" cried Jack presently. "Now, what in the world is it?" he went on, as he held up an object he had picked from between two of the rocks. It was a curiously-shaped bar of steel, about a foot and a half long, round at one end and flattened at the other, with several square holes punched through the latter end. "Looks like a piece of machinery of some kind," said Spouter, after the thing had been passed around for examination. "You know, Randy, you may be right, after all, and that may be a piece from an aeroplane," he added, looking the bar over critically. Carrying the bar of steel, Jack continued along the footpath, followed by the others, and a few minutes later emerged on a much larger trail. Here were the marks of wagon tracks, and also horses' hoofs. "Hello, this proves that a wagon came this way!" cried Fred. "Maybe it was the one those Germans were riding in," added Andy. "Oh, I wouldn't want to say that," returned Jack. "This may be a regular thoroughfare through this corner of the forest." They followed the wagon tracks, and soon found that the road, came to an end among some rocks overlooking Barlight Bay. Then they came back and walked in the other direction, and presently emerged on the highway along which they had marched on their way to the camp. "That ends it, as far as following this trail is concerned," said Jack. "Those men could go to almost anywhere from here." The cadets looked around for a while, and then went back to the spot where Randy had seen the men early in the morning. They looked for footprints, but were not successful in finding any they could follow for a distance. "Gee, I'm getting tired!" said Randy, with a yawn. "Please remember I did not get much sleep last night." "Yes, and I'm getting hungry," added his twin. "I think we'd better go back to camp." The others thought so, too, and a few minutes later all set off. As before, the young captain took the lead, and he and Randy lost no time in visiting the tent occupied by Captain Dale. "Well, this certainly is a find," declared the old West Pointer, looking the steel bar over critically. "I agree that it belongs to some sort of machine, although what, I haven't the least idea. If any of the authorities come here I'll let them look it over." Several days, including Sunday, passed without anything new developing. Several of the local authorities had appeared, and also a Secret Service man from Camp Huxwell. All listened closely to what Captain Dale and the Rovers had to tell, and examined the steel bar critically. Then they went off, and that, for the time being, was all those at Camp Barlight heard of them. "Hurrah! the girls are coming soon, and then maybe we'll get a chance to run over to Camp Huxwell," cried Fred, one day after the mail had been brought in. "They say they will be over late in the week," said Jack. He looked at his cousins. "We'll have to lay plans to treat them royally." The young cadets had continued their drills and also their bayonet and other exercises. Now it was announced that target practice would start the following morning and continue until all of the cadets had proved what they could do in hitting the mark. "Well, Fred, here is your chance to show what you can do!" cried Andy, after this announcement had been made. "You were the high man in our family last term." He remembered that out of a possible score of 25 Fred had netted 19, while Jack had received 18, Randy 12, and himself but 10. "Please don't forget that I've got Lewis Barrow to shoot against," answered Fred. Lewis Barrow had been the high man on the previous occasion, with a score of 20. There were three targets to be shot at--one at short range, one at medium, and one at long range. It would be possible to score 20 points at each target, making a total of 60 points for each cadet. In the past Gabe Werner had been a fairly good shot. He was in the habit of patronizing a shooting gallery in Haven Point, and the proprietor of this had given him many lessons in how to hold a rifle and how to take aim. "I guess here is where I get a chance to show those dubs what I can do," remarked Gabe to his cronies. To make the contest more interesting for the cadets, Colonel Colby had authorized Captain Dale to put up six prizes; the first a gold medal, the second a silver medal, and the others various books of more or less value. "Now, Fred, I want you to do your prettiest," said Jack to his cousin. "You came out ahead of us last term, and this time I want you to top the whole school." "I'll do my best," answered the youngest Rover boy. "But, Jack, you've got to do your best, too." "Sure I will!" The target practice lasted for three days, and the competition among more than half of the cadets was very keen. The others were such indifferent marksmen that they had no hopes of winning any of the prizes, and so they shot more because they were expected to do so than for any other reason. "Well, I guess I'm keeping up my reputation!" cried Randy, with a grin, when his shooting had come to an end. "Twelve points at the first target, six at the second, and four at the long distance--a total of twenty-two points." "I'm a whole barrelful better than that!" answered his brother gaily. "I made twenty-three points. I guess we had both better open a school for target practice," and he grinned broadly. At the short-range target Jack and Fred were tied with 16 points each, and, strange as it may seem, Lewis Barrow and Gabe Werner were tied with 17 points each. "Say, Werner can certainly shoot," remarked Spouter, who had made but eleven points. "I knew Barrow could do it, but I didn't expect it of Gabe." "Shooting at the short-range target is his specialty," announced Walt, whose score was also a modest one. "Remember, he has been doing a lot of practicing at the Haven Point shooting gallery." At the medium-distance target the scores were not so good, Jack making 10, Fred 11, Barrow 13, and Werner 14. "Hello, what do you know about this! Werner is ahead!" "He shot one point better than Lew Barrow." "I knew he could do it!" boasted Bill Glutts. "Just wait until you fellows get at the long-distance range! He'll show you what's what!" The score now stood, Jack 26, Fred 27, Barrow 30, and Werner 31. The others had all dropped behind several points more. "Say, you fellows have got to hump yourselves," declared Randy, as he came up to his cousins. "Werner is four and five points ahead of you." "Well, I am doing the best I can," declared the young captain. He would have resented such familiarity from anyone except his fun-loving cousin. "And I'm doing the best I can," asserted the young lieutenant. At the long-distance range Lewis Barrow was the first of the four to show his skill. He was a young Westerner, and had a great familiarity with firearms. He shot quickly and neatly, making a score of 10. "Hurrah! That gives Lew Barrow a total of forty points!" "Good work, Lew! I guess that gold medal is yours." "Not much!" returned the Westerner, with a faint smile. "I didn't do very well. I guess the wind was against me." The next to shoot was Fred, and to the amazement of many of those looking on, the youngest Rover made a score of 15, giving him a total of forty-two points. "Good work, Fred!" cried Jack, grasping his cousin by the hand. "Oh, it takes our Fred to do it!" cried Andy, dancing around. And then he had to turn a couple of handsprings to relieve his feelings. "Huh! you just wait till Gabe shoots," said Bill Glutts. "He's the one to win that gold medal!" piped in Codfish. "Well, there is one thing sure--you'll never walk off with any medal, Codfish," returned Randy; and at this there was a laugh, for the sneak of the school had made a poor showing on all of the targets--in fact, he was so timid that he was almost afraid to discharge his rifle. Gabe Werner strode forward with a superior air and inspected the rifle that was handed to him critically. "I want a gun that shoots straight," he said. He took a long time to shoot, sighting his rifle several times before each discharge. His first shots were fairly good, but then his nervousness asserted itself, and he all but missed the target. His total was eight points, bringing his grand total up to thirty-nine points. "Hello, Werner's dropped down!" "He is one point behind Barrow and three points behind Fred Rover." "Say, Gabe, what happened to you? Did you get a dose of the shakes?" asked one of his followers. "Maybe somebody moved the target on him," suggested Andy slyly. "Perhaps the rifle had a twist in the barrel," announced Randy. "Oh, say, this is none of your affair!" growled Gabe Werner, as he threw down the rifle in disgust and faced the two fun-loving Rovers. "You mind your own business!" "Gracious, but you're peppery!" said Andy. "I'll pepper you some day!" howled Werner, and then turned on his heel and strode off, looking anything but pleasant. "Gee! but he takes it hard," remarked Walt. "How foolish," returned Gif. "Even if I was disappointed, I wouldn't show it." It was now Jack's turn to shoot, and he did so without delay. His first two shots were not particularly good, but then he found the bull's-eye twice in succession, much to the amazement of all the onlookers. "Say, there's shooting for you!" "Fred, you'd better look to your laurels or Jack will beat you," cried Spouter. "I want him to beat me--if he can," answered Fred generously. And beat his cousin Jack did by just one point. He scored a total of forty-three, while Fred had forty-two. Barrow came in for third place with forty points, and Werner fourth with thirty-nine points. Frank Newberry was fifth, and a cadet named Henkerson sixth. "Well, you beat me fairly and squarely, Jack!" cried Fred, shaking hands. "Not such an awful lot at that, Fred. Only one point," returned the young captain good-naturedly. "But it gives you the gold medal, while I'll have to content myself with the silver medal. Just the same, I'm glad I did as well as that," added Fred. CHAPTER XXIII GIRL VISITORS After the target practice the cadets of Colby Hall settled down to the usual routine of the camp. The Rovers and their chums were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the girls from Clearwater Hall, and they made arrangements with Captain Dale so that the visitors might be appropriately entertained. The girls came in two large touring cars, which had been hired at the Haven Point garage. The Rovers and their chums were on the lookout for them, and set up a cheer as soon as they appeared. "Oh, what a lovely spot for a camp!" exclaimed Ruth Stevenson, as she leaped to the ground and shook hands with Jack. The visitors were escorted by Captain Jack to Captain Dale's quarters. He knew some of the young ladies already, and soon made all of the crowd feel perfectly at home. "Your friends will show you around our camp, and if you care to do so you may have regular mess with our cadets," said the old West Pointer, smiling. "Oh, let's have a regular mess dinner by all means!" cried Mary. "I've always wanted to know how it tasted." "Grandest soup you ever struck, Mary," said Gif. "Especially if a pinching bug or a worm chances to drop into it," came from Andy. "You horrid boy!" cried Martha. "Jack, you ought to box his ears for that." The girls were shown over the camp, and even taken down to the rifle ranges, in the meantime being told about the very excellent scores Jack and Fred had made. It had been arranged that the girls were to be away from Clearwater Hall for two days. They were to spend one day with the boys at Camp Barlight and the following day near Camp Huxwell, where Alice Strobell had an aunt living who had promised to take them all in for the night. "We'll come over here early in the morning for you boys," said Martha, "and then all of us can visit Camp Huxwell together. I've already sent word to dad, and Mary has sent word to Uncle Sam, so they will be on the lookout for us." "That will be fine!" cried Jack. "I've been wanting to see that camp ever since we got here, but, somehow, I couldn't get away to do it." "And I want to see my dad, too," added Fred enthusiastically. The twins were likewise eager to see the government camp and their uncles, but they were somewhat depressed, and could not help but show it. "I know what's the matter," whispered Martha to her brother. "They are thinking about their father. Poor Uncle Tom! What a shame it is that he couldn't join father and Uncle Sam." "Well, you know how they arranged it," answered the young captain. "Somebody had to stay at home to manage the business." While the Rovers and their chums were showing the girls around the camp, Gabe Werner and Bill Glutts eyed them enviously. "I don't see why they are permitted to have girls come here and visit them," growled the ex-lieutenant. "Girls are all out of place in a camp like this," added the wholesale butcher's son. "You can't have the same amount of freedom with those skirts around." "I just heard something," put in Codfish, who had come up a moment before. "The Rovers and those other fellows are going to take the girls out into the woods for a picnic." "Where did you get that news?" asked Glutts quickly. "I heard the cook telling one of his helpers. They are fixing up a great big bunch of grub for them." "Huh! some folks have nerve," grumbled Werner. "I suppose he'll let 'em have all the best things there are in camp and we can take what's left." "Chopped-up onions, for instance," and Glutts grinned. "I'll onion them, you see if I don't!" cried Gabe Werner. And then he suddenly caught his crony by the arm. "Say, I've got an idea! If we can get away and follow those fellows maybe we can spoil their old picnic for 'em." "I get you!" cried Glutts quickly. "What are you going to do?" questioned Codfish. "Will you keep your mouth shut if we take you in on this?" demanded the ex-lieutenant. "Of course I'll keep my mouth shut." "All right then, you can come in, Henry. But remember, if you open your trap on us we'll come down on you like a ton of bricks," added Gabe. The matter was talked over for several minutes by Werner and Glutts, and then Codfish was dispatched to the cook's quarters on an errand. The girls enjoyed eating the regular mess lunch immensely. Each was provided by the boys with a new mess kit and instructed into the art of using the same. They sat at the main table in the mess hall, a table presided over by Captain Dale himself. "This is quite an honor, ladies," said the old West Pointer politely. "It's the first time we have had so many of the opposite sex in any of our camps." "It is very lovely of you, Captain Dale, to permit us to come," said Ruth. "I am sure we all thank you very much for all the courtesies you have shown us." "Indeed we do!" came from the others. "I'm afraid this meal will put a little damper on our picnic," remarked Fred. "We should have eaten our lunch out in the woods." "Don't you worry about that," retorted Andy. "We'll be ready for another meal after we've tramped about over the rocks and among the trees for several hours." The food to be taken along had been placed in three old knapsacks with which the camp was provided, and these the twins and Spouter placed on their back when they set off for the woods. All were in high spirits, and Andy and Randy whistled gaily as they trudged along. "Let us go up on top of one of the cliffs," suggested Jack, after they had been tramping for the best part of an hour. "We ought to be able to get a splendid view of the bay from there." The others were willing, and about the middle of the afternoon they reached a high, rocky point, overlooking Barlight Bay and the rolling Atlantic. It was a clear, sunshiny day, and consequently they could see for miles in several directions. "I see a big steamer coming up the coast!" cried Gif presently. "See the trail of smoke she is leaving behind her?" "I wonder if those big coastwise steamers are in any danger of the German submarines?" remarked Martha. "Oh, I don't believe there are any submarines around here," said Randy. "Don't be too sure about that," put in Jack. "Don't forget that the Huns sent over several of their U-boats before we even got into the war." "There may be more German submarines lurking in these waters than we have any idea of," remarked Spouter. "It is a well-known fact that the Central Powers have an enormous number of submarines, and that they have been sent to all the important lanes of travel in the Atlantic Ocean, as well as the Mediterranean Sea and the North Sea. They have got the science of building U-boats down exceedingly fine, and they evidently know exactly how to handle such craft. And not only that, but they have invented some exceedingly destructive torpedoes, and likewise some devices----" "Say, Spouter, have you started to deliver a lecture on German submarines?" demanded Randy. "Please remember that we came to camp for the sole purpose of escaping lectures," added his twin. "I'm not delivering a lecture," returned Spouter coldly. "I was only trying to pound into your somewhat bonelike heads a few important facts. But, of course, the task is rather a useless one, because you wouldn't be able to assimilate such knowledge even if----" Spouter's oratory was cut short by a wad of wet leaves which Randy picked up and hurled at him. Then Andy poked him with a long tree branch he had picked up, and for a few minutes there was quite a good-natured pitched battle, the girls looking on with much interest. "Avast and heave to!" roared Andy, melodramatically. "Over the top and at 'em! Chew 'em up alive! Don't let 'em cry '_Kamerad_'! Make 'em yell, 'Have you used Brickbat's Soap!'" And at this there was a shriek of laughter from the girls. When the horseplay had finally come to an end, the young folks walked out on the rocks where they might get a better view of the bay and the ocean beyond. As was quite natural, the boys and the girls paired off together, and Jack saw to it that Ruth obtained a seat that was comfortable. Fred did the same for May, while Spouter and Gif walked on a short distance further with the two Rover girls. The knapsacks containing the food had been left on some flat rocks a short distance to the rear. So that they might not get too warm, the boys had placed some brushwood over them, along with some wraps which the girls had brought along. Although the Rovers and their chums did not know it, they had been followed into the woods by Werner, Glutts and Stowell, who had obtained a brief leave of absence from the officer of the day. The trio had watched the girls and their cadet friends closely, and viewed the disposal of the knapsacks and the wraps with satisfaction. "Here is where we get square with them," muttered Gabe. "We'll fix 'em for putting chopped-up onions in our mess kits!" "What are you going to do with those onions I got for you?" questioned Codfish. "We'll doctor up every bit of their food with 'em," answered Glutts. "They can have onion sandwiches and onion cake and onion pie galore. My, but that lunch will be one sweet mess when we get through with it!" he added gleefully. "Yes, and I'll tell you another thing we can do," pursued Gabe Werner maliciously. "We can put some of the chopped-up onions into the pockets of those girls' coats. That will make 'em all smell fine!" "Oh, say! do you think you ought to touch the girls' things?" questioned Codfish timidly. "Sure! That will give those fellows a job cleaning the mess up," answered Gabe heartlessly. "But we don't want to get caught." Now that the time had arrived to play the joke on the Rovers and their friends, the sneak of the school was beginning to tremble. "Oh, we won't get caught," said Werner. "Come on. They are all out of sight, and it will be dead easy to turn the trick." CHAPTER XXIV TOM ROVER'S ANNOUNCEMENT Fred and May had gone up to the topmost point of the cliff overlooking Barlight Bay. Here they could get a view not only of the water front, but likewise of the Colby Hall camp stretched out in the clearing to the northeast of the woods. The wind was blowing rather freely, and presently the youngest Rover noticed that the girl beside him shivered. "Why, you are cold, May! You should have brought your coat along," Fred declared. "I wish I had," May answered. "Let me run back and get it." "Oh, don't bother, Fred. We won't stay up here so very long." "It's no bother at all. It will take me only a few minutes to get it," answered the young lieutenant gallantly, and began to climb down the rocks. It did not take Fred long to reach a point where the cliff was more level, and then he hurried off in the direction where the knapsacks and the wraps had been left. "Hello! what's this?" he asked himself, coming up beside the flat rocks. "I'm sure we left them here." But neither the knapsacks with food nor the wraps were anywhere in sight. Fred scratched his head, wondering if he were dreaming. "Hi, fellows!" he called out. "Something wrong here!" "What's the matter?" yelled Gif, who was the nearest of the others. "The knapsacks and wraps! They are gone!" "Gone! Do you mean somebody has taken them?" exclaimed Gif. "Yes, I do! Call the others, quick." As Fred uttered the last words he darted away from the flat rocks. He had seen a movement behind some trees and bushes not a great distance away. As he drew closer to the spot he heard Codfish give a cry of alarm. "We're discovered! Fred Rover is coming!" "Hi, Codfish! what are you doing here?" demanded Fred. But instead of answering, the sneak of the school set off on a run through the woods as fast as his legs could carry him. By this time Gif was coming up, followed by Andy and Randy, while Jack and several others of the party were trying to get down from the rocks at the front of the cliff. "Who was it? Who took the things?" questioned Gif hurriedly. "I saw Codfish," answered Fred. "And there are Glutts and Werner!" he added suddenly, as the pair came into view between the trees. They were running swiftly, carrying the three knapsacks between them. Codfish had been carrying the girls' wraps, but had dropped them in his fright. "The mean rascals, they were going to make off with our eats!" roared Spouter. "Come ahead! Let's catch 'em!" There was no need for him to utter these words, for already Gif and Fred were making after Werner, Glutts and Codfish at top speed. Behind them came all of the other cadets, each now aware of what had occurred. "Hang the luck! I didn't think they would spot us like this," panted Gabe, as he lumbered along. He had a knapsack in each hand, while Glutts carried the third. Codfish, free-handed, was just ahead of them. The three had a fair start, and might have gotten away by hiding behind the trees and brushwood of the forest had not the unlucky Codfish met with an accident. His foot caught in an exposed tree root, and down went the sneak of the school flat on his breast. Then, before they could stop themselves, Werner and Glutts fell over him, banging him on the head with the heavy knapsacks as they did so. "Oh! Oh!" moaned Codfish. "Don't hit me like that! Get off! You are smashing my ribs!" Werner and Glutts rolled over, letting go of the knapsacks as they did so, and scrambled to their feet. But these movements took time, and in the meanwhile Fred and Gif rushed up, catching each by the arm. "You let go of me, Fred Rover!" cried the wholesale butcher's son; and when the youngest Rover did not do as commanded, Glutts made a savage pass with his fist. Had the blow landed as intended, Fred would have been struck full in the nose, but he knew something about boxing, and dodged cleverly, and then he came back at Glutts with a blow in the ear which sent that youth sprawling once more. In the meantime Werner attempted to get away from Gif. But that athletic youth put out a foot behind the ex-lieutenant, and down went Gabe once more on the panting and bewildered Codfish. Both rolled over among the tree roots, and it was several seconds before they could untangle themselves and get to their feet. By this time Andy and Randy had come up, and a short while later Jack and the others appeared. "What's this all about?" demanded Jack, who, as a captain of the cadets, felt that he was in charge. "They were sneaking off with the grub and with the girls' wraps," answered Fred. "I spotted them just in the nick of time. Another half minute, and they would have been out of sight." "We weren't going to take the things away. We were only going to hide 'em," said Gabe Werner. He saw that there was now no chance to run for it, because he and his cronies were completely outnumbered. "Gee, what an awful smell!" broke suddenly from Randy. "No cologne there," said Jack. "Smells like garlic," said one of the other cadets, holding his nose. "It's onions!" declared Andy emphatically. "I guess I know onions when I smell 'em," he added significantly. Werner started, and then looked more disturbed than ever, and so did Bill Glutts. Both clapped their hands to their side pockets. Something was soaking through the cloth of their uniforms. The others came closer, and then Andy and Randy set up a roar of laughter. "Chopped-up onions!" cried the former of the twins. "What do you know about that! They are carrying pockets full of chopped-up onions! Wow!" "I'll bet I know what they were going to do with those!" declared Randy. "They were going to doctor up our grub with 'em!" "Well, what if we were?" said Gabe Werner boldly. "Didn't you fellows doctor up our mess kits?" "Did they have a chance to get at the stuff in the knapsacks?" questioned Jack anxiously. The girls were now coming up in a bunch, wondering what the disturbance meant. A swift examination proved that Werner and those with him had had no opportunity to disturb the things to eat, nor had they done any harm to the girls' wraps outside of mussing them up a trifle. "Say, we ought to give those fellows the licking of their lives," declared Fred emphatically. "The idea of wanting to play a joke like that with the girls around!" "No, we want no fighting to-day," declared Jack. "This affair can wait." He turned to the unworthy ones. "You clear out of here, and be mighty quick about it! We'll settle with you another time." "Come on--I'm going back to camp!" cried Codfish timidly, and without waiting for a reply he struck off through the woods. "You needn't think you can boss everything, Jack Rover, even if you are a captain," growled Werner. "On account of the girls, we won't say anything more about it just now. Come on, Bill." And a few seconds later he and his crony followed Codfish, and soon all were out of sight. For the time being the encounter with the Werner crowd put a damper on the others. But they were young in hearts and spirits, and soon they forgot what had taken place and went back to the front of the cliffs. Here they presently opened up the knapsacks, and the boys allowed the girls to fix the spread for them while they built a small fire in a hollow between the rocks where they made a large pot of chocolate. It is needless to say that all enjoyed the outing very much, and were sorry when it was time to bring it to an end. When the boys and their visitors had returned to Camp Barlight, and the young cadets had seen the girls safely on their way in the two automobiles, they set out on a hunt for Werner and his crowd. But those unworthies kept well out of sight, only showing themselves at roll call and when it was time to eat, and then disappearing as if by magic. "They are afraid to meet us," was Fred's comment. "Well, I'm just as well satisfied," answered Jack. "If we got into a fight it might mean all sorts of trouble for us if Captain Dale or the professors heard of it." The Rovers were up bright and early the following morning and on the lookout once more for the girls. Soon they came in sight, and then the Rovers, along with Gif and Spouter, got into the two automobiles, and all headed straight for Camp Huxwell. "My, what a big place!" exclaimed Jack, when, after being inspected, they were permitted to pass through the main gateway. "I understand they have over twenty-five thousand men here now," said Spouter. Some bodies of soldiers at a distance were going through various maneuvers, while other bodies still further away were hard at work at bayonet practice, charging and stabbing some sacks of hay hung on long wires. At still another point the soldiers were constructing trenches and dugouts in real military fashion. "They've got to learn a lot to be real soldiers," was Randy's comment. By following the directions given to them, it did not take long for the young folks to reach the vicinity of the regiment to which Dick Rover and his brother Sam were attached. The captain and the lieutenant were on the lookout for them, and hurried to meet them. "We are very glad to see all of you," said Dick Rover, catching his son by the hand and kissing his daughter affectionately. "You can't imagine how much we have missed you." "Nor how much we have missed you," returned Martha, her eyes growing suddenly misty. "How are you making it, Dad? Do you feel like a regular soldier yet?" questioned Fred of his parent. "Oh, we are working into it, Fred," replied Sam Rover. "How soon do you expect to go to Europe?" questioned Mary quickly. "There is a rumor that we shall leave in a week or two." "Oh! as soon as that?" came from several of the others. "Of course we can't tell positively," went on Fred's father. He turned to Andy and Randy. "By the way, boys, I've got a surprise for you," he added. "Your father will be down here this morning. In fact, we are expecting him any minute." "Is he coming alone?" asked Andy. "I don't think so. He spoke about bringing your mother with him, and possibly he may bring your Aunt Dora and your Aunt Grace." "Oh, that would be fine!" exclaimed Mary. She happened to glance around. "Well, I declare! Here they come now!" And in a moment more the folks from New York City leaped out of a newly-arrived automobile and strode toward the others. There was a great amount of kissing and handshaking, and Tom Rover's face showed his great excitement. "I've got an announcement to make," said the father of the twins, when he could command the attention of the others. "A very important announcement. I am going to become a soldier and fight with the rest of the fellows in France." CHAPTER XXV AT CAMP HUXWELL For a moment after Tom Rover made the important announcement all of the others stared at him, unable to speak. "Do you really mean it, Dad?" cried Randy, the first to break the silence. "Are you really going to the front?" "Yes, Son. I just got word early this morning which makes it possible for me to leave New York and join the army," answered the father, with a smile. "Hurrah! That's the best ever!" shouted Andy, throwing his cap into the air. "I knew you'd do it, Dad." And, rushing forward, he grabbed his father and gave him a big hug. "But--but--I really don't understand," stammered Dick Rover, for once so surprised he could scarcely speak. "How did you fix it up, Tom?" "Allen Charter is going to do the trick for me," answered Tom Rover. "Allen Charter?" exclaimed Sam Rover. "I thought you said he had declined and was going to volunteer!" "He did volunteer; but they wouldn't accept him--something the matter with his heart, I believe. Anyway, they wouldn't take him. Of course, Charter was much downcast. But he at once came to me and said he would take hold of our concern. He's going to do it in connection with Mr. Frank A. A. Powell, Songbird's uncle, the lawyer who helped us out so much when we had our trouble with Pelter, Japson & Company," continued Tom Rover, referring to a matter the details of which were given in the volume entitled, "The Rover Boys in New York." "And he's been just the craziest fellow ever was since he fixed it so he could go," declared Nellie, Tom's wife. "He tore around the house like a wild Indian, trying to get his things into shape. I guess he has an idea he's going to take a kit and a gun and go over to France this afternoon." Of course the older folks wanted more of the particulars, and as the whole party strolled over to Captain Dick Rover's quarters, Tom related them. "Of course I'm sorry that Allen Charter can't go to the front," said the father of the twins, "but I am mighty glad that we can get him to take charge, for he is not only a first-class business man, but you know he is honesty itself." "Yes, I know that," answered Dick. "I wouldn't want a better fellow." "And if Mr. Frank Powell works with him, I'm sure matters will go along very nicely," put in Sam. He caught his brother by the shoulder. "Say, Tom, this is the best news yet! Don't you know Dick and I have had the worst kind of blues thinking that you must be left behind?" "But, Dad! aren't you going in for a commission of some sort?" questioned Andy quickly. "Nothing doing in that line," answered Tom Rover promptly. "I've always been a high private in the rear rank in the past, and I suppose that is what I shall be in the present and the future--although, of course, I don't expect to stay in the rear rank when there is some real fighting ahead," he added quickly. "Then I want to get in the front-line trenches and go over the top." "Bully for you, Dad!" shouted Andy slangily. "I've already put in my application, and Major Kirby, who is an old friend of mine, has promised to push it right through; so I think I'll be landed here in a day or two." The coming of Tom Rover and the ladies from New York City made the party at the camp quite a large one. The boys and girls enjoyed themselves thoroughly. It could be seen that a great weight was lifted from the minds of the twins, and there was no holding them in when it came to making fun. All too soon it came time for the boys and girls to depart. The Rover boys shook hands warmly with their fathers, and the girls of course came in for a number of hugs and kisses. "Take good care of yourself, Dad," said Jack to his parent. "Don't let those Huns shoot you." "I'm sure you'll be coming back a general, Dad," remarked Fred to his father. "And don't forget to bring back some German helmets, Dad, and things like that!" cried Randy. "We'll take any kind of souvenir, Dad--even a German sauerkraut masher," put in Andy. Then the boys and girls said good-bye to their mothers, and all hurried off to the two automobiles awaiting them. In a minute more they were leaving Camp Huxwell and were on their way to Camp Barlight. Martha was openly crying, and tears filled the eyes of Mary, and who could blame them? Even the boys looked mighty serious, and Ruth and the others had quite a task trying to cheer them up. "There is no use in talking," was the way Fred expressed himself: "Going to France is a serious business. It's all well enough to talk about shooting up the Huns, and all that sort of thing, but don't forget that the Huns may do a little shooting on their own account." "Oh, they'll come back safe and sound," declared Andy. "They've just _got_ to!" Yet behind it all the fun-loving Rover felt just as bad as any of them, but he was trying hard not to show it. The boys were dropped off at the encampment, and then the girls continued on the way to Clearwater Hall. They were to remain at the Hall for the best part of a week longer, and then Mary and Martha were going to join their mothers and their aunt for the summer vacation. What the boys were going to do after the encampment came to an end, had not yet been decided. Sunday was passed quietly by the Rover boys and their chums. Religious services were held in the open air, and were attended by nearly all of the cadets. In the afternoon Fred and Jack took a walk, accompanied by Gif and Spouter, the twins remaining behind to write some letters. The walk took the cadets to the foot of the cliff nearest to their camp, and in rounding this close to the water front they made a somewhat interesting discovery. They came to quite an opening among the rocks, and, going inside, found themselves in a regular cavern, ten feet high in some places and half again as broad. In the rear was a smaller opening, leading downward and filled at the bay level with water. "Who would think there would be a cave like this around here!" remarked Jack. "Good place to come to in case of a storm," said Spouter. "A fellow could play Robinson Crusoe if he wanted to." By the aid of some matches the cadets examined the cavern, but found nothing in it of value. At some time in the past birds had nested there, but that was all. They were just ready to leave when Jack suddenly put up his hand. "Listen!" he said. "Am I mistaken, or do I hear something?" All did as he commanded, and from a great distance a faint tapping reached their ears. Then came a series of muffled explosions and a clanking as of chains. "That's something like the noise Randy said he heard when he was on sentry duty," remarked Fred. "Don't you remember how worked up he was over it?" "What do you suppose it is, and where do you suppose it comes from?" put in Gif. No one could answer those questions. All was now silent, but presently they heard another series of explosions, and then the tapping continued steadily for several minutes. Then, however, the sounds died away. "That's got me guessing," declared Jack, after the crowd had left the cavern. "We'll have to tell Randy about this, and maybe we had better tell Captain Dale, too." Monday proved an exceedingly sultry day. The thermometer went so high that drills and exercises in the sun were all curtailed. "Looks to me as if this was a weather breeder," remarked the young captain to the others. "Well, I don't care what it does, if only it cools off," grumbled Randy. "Why, I feel as if I was living in a bake oven!" He had been told of the strange noises heard in the cavern at the bay front, and had been much interested. The boys had also spoken to Captain Dale, who had promised an investigation. When the hour came for the cadets to retire the sky was so overcast that not a star was showing. A breeze had sprung up, and this was growing brisker every minute. "I think we are in for a storm, and a good big blow with it," announced Captain Dale. And then he told Major Ralph Mason to give orders that all the tent fastenings should be looked to. "I'm sure our tent is down tight enough," announced Randy, after he and his tent-mates had made an investigation. "Well, you want to be sure of it," remarked Fred, who was making the round of the tents. "You don't want that canvas to be sailing skyward or out into the bay." As was usual with them, Gabe Werner and Bill Glutts growled when ordered to look to the fastenings of the tent they and their cronies occupied. But as the wind increased Glutts pulled Gabe to one side and whispered something into his ear. "All right--I'm with you," answered Werner promptly. "Let's do it at once. Got your pocketknife handy?" "Yes. Have you?" "I have. And it's as sharp as a razor. All we'll have to do is to cut the ropes about half way through. The wind will do the rest," announced Gabe gleefully. "What's the matter with fixing up both tents?" went on the wholesale butcher's son. "You can slide over to the officers' quarters while I attend to the tent down in the Company C line." "All right! But hurry up. And come back as soon as you're through," cautioned Werner. He reached the vicinity of the tent occupied by Jack and Fred just as the first of the rain drops began to come down. The wind was now blowing half a gale, and the canvases of the encampment were flapping and slapping loudly. Werner had his pocketknife open, and it did not take him long to begin operations. Five of the ropes which held the tent to the pegs were all but severed, and then he began work on the next. "Stop that! What do you mean, you rascal?" Gabe Werner turned, and as he straightened up he found himself face to face with Jack. The young captain had been on an errand to the next tent, and had seen the rascally ex-lieutenant in the darkness more by chance than by anything else. "What's the matter out there?" called Fred from the interior of the tent. "Here is Gabe Werner! He's cutting the ropes!" And now Jack caught the big youth by the arm. "Let go of me, Rover!" demanded the ex-lieutenant, and then he raised the hand that held the pocketknife. It is not likely that he would have used the weapon. But Jack did not care to take any chances. As quick as a flash he hauled back, and then his fist crashed into Gabe Werner's chin, sending him sprawling on his back. For a second or two the big ex-lieutenant was dazed, but then, with a muttered imprecation, he leaped up, dropping his pocketknife as he did so, and rushed at Jack, hitting him in the shoulder. By this time the blood of the young captain was up. He dodged a second blow delivered by Werner, and then his fist shot out quickly, landing on the ex-lieutenant's nose, drawing blood. "Ouch!" spluttered Werner, and then he made a leap and grappled with Jack. There followed a lively mix-up in which blows were given and taken freely. In the meantime Fred set up a cry of alarm, not knowing who was attacking his cousin. In a few seconds a number of cadets and Professor Brice came hurrying in that direction. "I've got to clear out, but I'll fix you another time, Rover," hissed Gabe Werner, and attempted to retreat. "You're not going to get away, Werner!" cried Jack, and, making a leap forward, he gave the ex-lieutenant a blow behind the ear which sent him to the ground all but unconscious. CHAPTER XXVI AN ASTONISHING DISCOVERY "What does this mean, Captain Rover?" demanded Professor Brice, as he rushed up, lantern in hand and followed quickly by Major Ralph Mason and a dozen other cadets. "I caught this rascal cutting the ropes to our tent," explained Jack. "Gee, you'd better hold that tent down!" cried one of the cadets. "There go three of the ropes now!" And what he said was true, the ropes in question being those that Werner had partly severed with his knife. Fred had come out of the tent, and now he and a number of the other cadets held down the canvas so that the wind could not get under it. It was blowing furiously, so that they had no easy job of it to keep the tent from going up. "Do you mean to say he really cut the ropes here?" demanded Professor Brice sternly, as Werner gathered himself together on the wet ground and slowly arose to his feet. "Yes, sir," said Jack. "And there is the knife he did it with," he added, pointing to the pocket piece which had fallen under the ex-lieutenant. "It was--er--it was--er--only a bit of fun," stammered Werner, not knowing what else to say. "And Jack Rover had no right to pitch into me the way he did!" "I had a perfect right to do so, Professor Brice," announced Jack. "If I wanted to say more--- But I won't do it now," he added. "I'll make a report to you in private." By this time the camp was in an uproar, for down the line where Company C was located there had been another rumpus. Gif, going out on guard duty, had caught sight of Bill Glutts just as the latter had cut two of the ropes to the tent occupied by him and Spouter and the twins. Gif had treated the wholesale butcher's son rather roughly, and Glutts had finally yelled for mercy, bringing out a crowd of twenty or thirty, including the twins. "This is a despicable piece of business, Werner," said Professor Brice sternly. "I will at once report the matter to Captain Dale, who, as you know, is in authority in this camp. Come along with me." Captain Dale had been down to the shore of the bay, to make certain that there was no danger of the tents which were used for bath houses being blown away. He soon came up and looked closely at the ropes which Werner had partly severed. "I don't like this sort of thing at all," he said to the ex-lieutenant. "If that tent had come down while those inside were asleep somebody might have been seriously injured. More than that, nobody would care to be without shelter on such a night as this, and with all their possessions getting wet. You will report to the corporal of the guard at once." Then Captain Dale passed on to where the others were having trouble with Glutts, and he was also ordered to report to the guard. In the meanwhile, as the storm seemed to be increasing, Captain Dale gave orders that the fastenings of every tent should be inspected thoroughly and extra ropes and pegs should be put down wherever necessary. He did not want any of the school property damaged. "Gee, we'll catch it for this!" growled Bill Glutts, when he and Werner had been placed in a small wooden shanty, designated a guardhouse. "I suppose they'll make us do all sorts of disagreeable things as a punishment." "I won't stand for it!" stormed Werner, whose nose was still bleeding from the blow Jack had dealt. "They can't make me the laughingstock of this camp." "What are you going to do?" "I'm going home," announced the ex-lieutenant. And that is what he did, stealing away from the camp early in the morning just as the heavy storm of the night was passing away. He managed to get a few of his possessions, but the others had to be left behind. He wanted Glutts to go with him, but the son of the wholesale butcher was afraid to do so. In the morning Jack and the others had to make a full report to Captain Dale of what had occurred. The young captain mentioned the fact that Werner had had his pocketknife in his hand. "I'm not sure that he was going to use it," said Jack. "In fact, I would rather think that he wouldn't do so. But I wasn't going to take any chances, and so I hit him. Then he hit back, and--well, we mixed it up pretty freely. Finally I gave him a blow that knocked him flat, and then the others came up." "Captain Rover, you know I do not approve of fighting, especially among officers," declared Captain Dale sternly. "However, the introduction of the pocketknife changes the situation somewhat. I will hear what Werner has to say." Then it was discovered that Gabe Werner had left the camp. He had written a note saying that he was going home and that he guessed he would never come back to Colby Hall again. This being so, the matter was dropped so far as Jack was concerned. Nor was Gif punished for the way he had treated Bill Glutts. Captain Dale read a stern lecture to that unworthy, and for the remainder of the camp term Glutts was deprived of many liberties he might otherwise have enjoyed. It must not be supposed that the boys had forgotten the strange noises they had heard while in the woods and in the cavern at the front of the cliff. They had reported to Captain Dale, and several investigations had been made, but without results. The captain had also communicated with the authorities at Rackville, and likewise with the Secret Service men stationed at Camp Huxwell. "Well, I see they haven't made any progress in the matter of that explosion at the Hasley Shell Loading plant," remarked Spouter one day, after reading a copy of the Haven Point newspaper which had come in. "They are looking all over for those two Germans, but have been unable to spot 'em." "I see the company is offering a reward of ten thousand dollars for the apprehension of the men," came from Fred, who had likewise read the sheet. "Gee, I'd like to get a chance at that reward!" The next day the boys were treated to another surprise. As was their custom when the weather and their duties permitted, they went in bathing, and while diving Fred noticed a peculiar knocking sound under water. He called the attention of the others to this, and each cadet heard it quite plainly. "It must come from the same place as those other noises we heard," declared Jack. "I move we make a real investigation!" cried Andy. "Let's ask for a day off and scour the woods thoroughly." "That's the talk," cried Fred. The others were willing, and received permission to go out two days later, the party consisting of the four Rovers and Gif and Spouter. They took their lunch with them, and also some canteens of water, expecting to be gone until nightfall. There was quite a discussion as to how they should start the investigation. Some wanted to go along the base of the cliff at the water's edge, while others were for making their way through the forest. The latter suggestion prevailed, and they started near the point where Randy had first heard the strange noises. The young cadets tramped hither and thither among the trees and over the rough rocks for four hours without coming upon anything unusual. They stirred up a number of birds and small animals, but that was all. "Looks like a wild-goose chase," remarked Jack, when they sat down to rest and to eat their lunch. The climbing over the rocks had been very tiring, and all of the lads were glad after eating to take their ease for a while. Randy was resting on his side, wondering whether it would be worth while to play a trick on Gif and Spouter, who were but a few feet away, when a movement among the trees at a distance attracted his attention. He sat up, and as he did so felt certain that he had seen a man moving along. "Listen, boys!" he cried in a low voice. "There is some one now!" "Where?" came from the others, and all aroused themselves on the instant. Randy pointed out the direction, and, gathering up their things, the cadets hurried off to where he had pointed. There, sure enough, was a man plodding along with a bundle over his shoulder. He was a short, thick-set man, and wore a heavy mustache curled up at the ends. "Let's see where he goes," said Jack. "Maybe he'll take us to that place where the noises come from." They followed the man without his being aware of their presence. The fellow climbed over and around a number of rocks, and then pursued his way past a dense clump of bushes. Then, of a sudden, he disappeared from view. The cadets were amazed, the more so after they had tramped around the spot without ascertaining what had become of the man. "Looks as if the earth had opened and swallowed him up," remarked Randy. The cadets had advanced with caution, but now they grew bolder, and made a closer examination. But it was all of no avail--the man had disappeared, and where he had gone to or how, there was no telling. "One thing is sure," declared Jack. "He didn't walk away from here, and he didn't go up into the air. That being so, he must have gone down somewhere among the rocks and bushes. We had better hunt around for some sort of an opening to a cave, or something like that." The others were willing enough, and spent the best part of an hour in the task. But no opening presented itself, although the rocks and rough places in that vicinity were numerous. "Here is something else we can report to Captain Dale," was Fred's comment. Not knowing what else to do, the boys marked the spot so that they could remember it, and then pushed onward through the forest. Two hours later they reached a sort of gully, with the rough rocks on one side and an overhanging cliff on the other. "Fine place for snakes," remarked Spouter, as they walked along. "We're not looking for snakes, so please don't mention them," answered Jack. Why they did it, the boys could not explain afterwards, but they continued along the gully until they reached a point where there was something of a split in the face of the cliff. "Here's another one of those caves just like that which we found over on the bay front," declared Fred. "Let's go in and see what it looks like." With nothing in particular in view, the others were willing, and, turning on a flashlight which they had brought along, they climbed down into the cave-like opening. It was very irregular in shape, and they had to proceed with caution. And then, while they were climbing down among the rocks, something happened which caused each of the cadets to start wildly. A strange rumbling sound filled the air, a blowing and hissing, and then came a pounding and a clanking, sounding with great clearness in that confined space. "It's the same noises we heard before, and they are not very far off!" cried Jack to the others. "There must be a workshop of some sort around here." Hardly knowing what to expect, the boys continued to climb down into the opening they had discovered. Soon they reached a narrow passageway, where going was a little easier. Then they came to a spot where there was considerable wetness, showing that they had reached the level of the water in the bay beyond. "Here is a regular underground waterway," declared Gif presently. "It looks to be pretty deep, too." He was right. To the surprise of everybody they had come out upon what seemed to be an underground pond. On the side upon which they had emerged there was a small sandy slope. The other side, and the far end, were covered with jagged rocks. The strange blowing, pounding, and clanking continued, and almost deafened the cadets. They felt that they were on the point of a great discovery, but could not imagine what it would be. "It's a workshop, all right enough," declared Fred, a minute later. "Jack, put out that light, quick!" And at this command the flashlight was turned off. The cadets had rounded a bend of the underground waterway, and now at a distance they saw a number of electric lights shining brightly. There was some machinery set up among the rocks, and several workmen were present, all seemingly busy. "Look!" exclaimed Jack, his eyes almost starting out of his head at the sight. "What do you think of that, fellows?" He pointed to a spot beyond where the strange men were working. There the waterway seemed to broaden and deepen, and in the water lay a strange-looking craft more than three-quarters submerged. "It's a submarine!" breathed Fred excitedly. "A submarine! What do you know about that?" [Illustration: "A SUBMARINE! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?" _Page 270_] CHAPTER XXVII ON BOARD THE SUBMARINE The Rover boys and their chums were so astonished at the discovery they had made that for a moment they could do little else than stare at the strange object resting in the water ahead of them. "Get out of sight, every one of you!" whispered Jack, who was the first to recover his self-possession. "Don't let those men see you!" All backed away as silently as possible until they were once more in the shelter of the rocks of the bend around which they had come. "Say, do you think those fellows are Germans?" whispered Randy excitedly. "I certainly do, Randy," answered the young captain. "Of course they are Germans!" put in Gif. "If they were Americans why would they be concealing themselves in such an out-of-the-way place as this?" "It's a German submarine, as sure as you're alive!" remarked Spouter. "Fellows, we have made a wonderful discovery!" "And this accounts for all the strange noises we heard, and the fellows we saw going through the woods with bundles on their backs," added Randy. "Yes, and I guess it straightens out that story Jed Kessler told about the two Germans in the wagon with stuff that rattled like hardware," said Jack. "It's as plain as day," cried Fred. "Those two fellows must be connected with this gang here who are working on the submarine. And more than likely they were the same two Jed Kessler saw hanging around the ammunition plant just before the explosion." "If that's a German submarine, it must have come from the other side of the Atlantic!" exclaimed Andy in a low, excited voice. And then he added, his eyes snapping: "What do you suppose happened to it? Do you think she ran afoul of some of our big warships or our submarine chasers?" "Either that, or in cruising up and down the coast here she may have run afoul of some of the rocks and maybe knocked a hole in her bottom or side," answered Jack. "And I guess it's true that all the pounding and strange noises we have heard came either from this underground place or from some overhead spot close by." "What gets me is--how did that submarine get into this underground place?" questioned Gif. "There must be a much larger outlet than the one by which we entered," answered Jack. "More than likely those fellows don't know anything about the way by which we got in. They must have a large entrance by way of the water from the bay, and they must also have an entrance from the forest--that place where the man disappeared." "I guess you're right," said Fred. "Gee, this certainly is an important discovery! I guess the best thing we can do is to hurry back to camp as fast as possible and notify Captain Dale. He will probably want to let the Secret Service men and the authorities at Rackville know at once, so they can round up these fellows before they have a chance to get away." "I'd like to stay here awhile and watch these chaps," said Randy. "Maybe we may learn something more that is worth while." The matter was talked over by the cadets for fully ten minutes. At the place to which they had withdrawn they could talk freely, because the noises near the submarine continued, so there was little danger of their being overheard. While they talked they peeped out from time to time at the workmen, and saw that they were laboring over several sheets of steel and odd pieces of machinery, using a forge, a lathe, and a small drop hammer for that purpose. They had a gangplank leading over the waterway to the upper portion of the submarine, and from an open hatchway of the U-boat ran a number of coils of insulated wire, evidently carrying power to the electric lights and also to the machinery. "They must be getting all their power from the engines of the submarine," said Jack. "They've certainly got themselves pretty well fixed down here." "But how in the world did they manage to find this place?" questioned Spouter. "That remains to be found out, Spouter. Probably the German authorities had some spies around here who found the place for them, or otherwise they paid some of the natives for the information." "You know my dad spoke about German U-boat bases along our coast, and also bases for secret wireless telegraphy plants," put in Fred. "There is no telling what those rascals are up to." [Illustration: "A SUBMARINE! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?" _Page 270_] It was decided that Andy and Randy, accompanied by Spouter, should make their way back to the opening by which they had gained entrance to the underground waterway, and then return to Camp Barlight as quickly as possible and acquaint Captain Dale with what had been discovered. In the meanwhile, Jack, Fred, and Gif would remain behind on guard in case the Germans should attempt to make a sudden move. "We don't know how far along they are with their repairs," declared the young captain. "It would be just our luck to have them sail away right under our noses." "Oh, Jack! couldn't you stop them in some way from doing that?" questioned Andy quickly. "I should hope so, Andy. That is, if they really did try to get away. Of course, they may not be anywhere near ready to leave--although they have been here for some time according to the noises we have heard. I'd like to find out something about the other end of the passageway." "Maybe you can find out by going out with us and around to the other end of the bay," suggested Spouter. "I was thinking of that. But for the present I would rather stay right here and watch these fellows." It was not long after this when the twins and Spouter departed, stating that they would report to Captain Dale as speedily as possible. Then Jack and his cousin and Gif settled down to watch the Germans. For Germans they were, beyond a doubt. They were all heavy-set, burly fellows, and once or twice when the machinery was stopped the cadets heard one man, who was evidently in charge, give a number of commands in the German tongue. For nearly an hour longer the pounding and clanking continued. Most of the work was done on the rocky shore of the waterway, but some took place inside the submarine and also on the forward deck of the craft. The submersible was of good size, being over two hundred feet in length. "I'd like to get a whack at that U-boat," declared Gif. "I bet I'd make it so she wouldn't do any more cruising in a hurry." "Exactly what I was thinking, Gif," said Jack. "If we could only injure the propellers, or something like that, there wouldn't be any danger of their sailing away. You see, they may have it all fixed to leave at a minute's notice in case of an alarm." "If they did that they'd have to leave some of their machinery behind," put in Fred. "But I suppose they'd be willing to do even that rather than risk capture." When the cadets thought that their ears could no longer bear the awful noise to which they had been subjected, the sounds of the machinery suddenly ceased. They heard a strange humming from the interior of the submarine, but even this presently came to an end, and then there was a silence within the cavern which was absolutely oppressive. "I guess some kind of a move is at hand," whispered Jack. "Let's lay low and see what they do next." Several men, including two who were evidently officers and in charge of the work, came out of the submarine. The workmen were now washing up at the underground waterway, and presently all cast aside their working clothes and donned ordinary street garments. "Looks as if they were going to leave," whispered Fred excitedly. "Maybe they are going out into the open for some fresh air. I can't blame them for that," he added, for throughout the cavern there was a strong smell of used gasoline. Five minutes passed, and then one by one the Germans walked away from the submarine. They did not come in the direction of the cadets, but passed around another bend of the rocks, and so out of sight. "That must be the way used by that fellow we saw in the forest," declared Jack. All but three of the electric lights had been put out, so that the interior of the cavern was now quite gloomy. The only sound that broke the stillness was the soft lap, lap of some distant waves, evidently where they broke on the shore of the bay close to the larger entrance of the cavern. "I'd like to bet that the entrance is under water," said Fred. "If it was at the surface some one would have discovered this place a long time ago." And in this surmise the youngest Rover was correct. The passageway, which was amply large, was over ten feet below the surface of the bay even at low tide. "Do you suppose they've all left the submarine?" whispered Gif presently. With the intense silence prevailing, they felt that they must be very cautious in making any noise. "That's hard to say," answered Jack, with a shrug of his shoulders. "It looks so to me," put in Fred. "I don't believe any of those fellows would care to stay down here unless it was necessary. They have stopped all the engines and things like that. I guess those electric lights are burning simply from a storage battery." The three cadets waited for another ten minutes, and then, as no one appeared, and as the submarine seemed to be deserted, they stole forward cautiously, all anxious to get a closer look at the U-boat. "If we could only throw a chain around the propellers, or something like that, maybe it would keep them from getting away if they tried to run for it," said the young captain. "We'll look around and see what we can do, anyway," answered his cousin. "There are plenty of chains around," put in Gif. "Those are what made the awful clanking sounds we heard." Step by step the three cadets came up until they were at the spot where the Germans had set up their repair plant. Some of the things they had been working upon were still lying about, but other parts had been taken aboard the submarine. "I guess they have all gone," said Jack, after a look around. "I'm going aboard that craft and take a peep at her." The others were also anxious to do this, and all three were soon across the gangplank which led to the open hatch of the U-boat. They gazed down this hatch with some awe, and discovered that several electric lights had been left turned on below. A steel ladder ran down into the interior of the submersible. "What do you say--shall we go below?" questioned Jack. "I'm willing if you are," answered his cousin. "And so am I," added Gif. "I don't believe there is any one around." "Well, we'll take a chance," answered the young captain. "If there is any alarm, we'll have to run for it." "Yes, and we may have to fight for it," added Fred. Jack went down the ladder quickly, followed by the others. They now found themselves in what might be termed the main room of the submarine. Beyond were several other compartments, including one where was located much of the machinery which ran the undersea boat. "It's a good deal like being downstairs on a small warship," declared Fred. "See, there are staterooms and messrooms and everything else!" "Well, I suppose they have to give the crew some comforts, they take such long, disagreeable trips," remarked Jack. The three cadets wandered around in the interior of the submarine for over a quarter of an hour. They saw where a number of repairs were being made to the side of the U-boat and also to some of the machinery, and they also saw where some stores had been taken on board, boxes and barrels of various kinds. "I guess they are stocking up for another cruise," remarked Gif. "It must be quite a job to get all that stuff to this out-of-the-way place," said Jack. "Yes, and to do it so secretly, too," added Fred. "I think I see a way of making this boat stay here for a while, at least," remarked Jack. "It will be an easy matter to put some of that delicate machinery forward out of commission." "Come on and do it!" cried his cousin quickly. The three cadets were inspecting the machinery and wondering how they could damage it effectively with the least possible trouble, when there came a sudden interruption. "What are you doing here?" came in a guttural German voice. "Hands up, or I will shoot you!" And, turning quickly, the three cadets found themselves confronted by a burly German, holding in each hand a pistol. CHAPTER XXVIII THE CABIN IN THE WOODS It was a comparatively easy matter for the twins and Spouter to get out of the cavern by the way they had entered. It was, however, not so easy for them to climb up the face of the cliff fronting that portion of Barlight Bay. "Some climb, believe me!" panted Spouter, when they had reached a spot where going was easier. "I came pretty near slipping and breaking my neck at one point," said Randy. "I don't believe those Germans ever use that entrance, do you?" "Not very often," answered his twin. The three cadets had reached the woods at a point which was new to them, being almost a mile from the other cliff, where they had had the outing with the girls. Between the two points there was a split in the land, and here the waters from the bay dashed in over a long series of jagged rocks. "We can't cross there," remarked Randy, when they had reached the brink of this split. "We'll have to go back into the woods and go around." It was now about five o'clock in the afternoon, and the tramping and climbing had tired all of the boys, yet they set off as rapidly as possible, feeling that it would be best to make a report to Captain Dale as soon as possible. "I wish we had some trail to go by," remarked Randy, after they had been walking for at least half an hour. "I begin to think we are not moving in the right direction." "I've been trying to guide myself by the sun," answered Spouter. "Just the same, I don't believe we are headed exactly for the camp." "I've got to go a bit slower," sighed Andy, who for once was by no means light-hearted. "Both of my feet are beginning to hurt from all that climbing over the rocks. I came pretty close to twisting my ankle this afternoon, and it has been paining ever since." Another half hour went by, and then, as the declining sun began to cast long shadows through the trees of the forest, the cadets looked at each other in alarm. The same thought had come into the minds of each of them. "It looks as if we were lost," said Randy laconically. "How about it?" "Oh, as the Indian said, we're not lost," responded Andy, with a faint smile. "It's only the camp that has gone astray." "This is no time for joking," said Spouter coldly. "We've got to get back to camp, and do it just as fast as we can!" "All right then, Spouter, show us the way," answered Andy readily. "That's something I'm not so sure of," was the slow reply. "Which direction do you think it is in?" The matter was talked over for several minutes, and finally the cadets moved off once more, this time at an acute angle to the direction they had before pursued. They went forward for perhaps a quarter of a mile, and then, much to their surprise, suddenly came out upon a well-defined wagon road. "Well, what do you know about this!" cried Randy in astonishment. "Where do you suppose this road leads to?" questioned his brother. At this Randy shook his head, and Spouter did likewise. They could see the tracks of a horse and wagon in the road, and also the marks of automobile tires. "It must be quite a road if it is used by automobiles," was Spouter's comment. "Now the question is--which way shall we go in order to get to our camp?" All had noticed that the road ran in something of a semicircle. While the cadets were deliberating, they made another discovery. Smoke was coming up from among some of the trees near by, and, walking in that direction, they made out a fair-sized cabin, nestling deep between some trees and brushwood. "Maybe we can get some assistance at that place," remarked Andy. "I don't believe it!" returned his brother quickly. "It's more than likely the people who live there are in league with those Germans. They must have heard those noises the same as we did, and probably know all about how they are being made." "That's it!" warned Spouter. "If I were you, I'd go slow in showing myself to anybody who may be at that cabin." The boys approached with caution, keeping their eyes wide open, and presently discovered a touring car standing among the trees to one side of the cabin. "I don't believe that car belongs here," said Randy. "I don't see anything in the way of a garage. And that looks like a nice city car." Keeping in the shelter of some of the trees and brushwood, the cadets came still closer, and then made another discovery, which was to the effect that two young men were seated in the tonneau of the car. Each was smoking a cigarette, and they were conversing in low tones. "I tell you I'm going to hit my dad for a hundred dollars on the strength of this," they heard one of the occupants of the car remark. "And I bet I get it, too." "Well, if you get a hundred, Nappy, I'm going to hit for a hundred myself," was the reply of the other occupant. "I guess my father can afford to give me that amount just as well as your father can afford it." "Oh, well, Slugger, you must remember that my dad has quite a bunch of money." "Huh! I don't think he's any better fixed than mine. Here, pass over another cigarette. Don't forget I paid for the last ones we bought." "Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell!" whispered Randy excitedly. "Would you believe it?" "What can those fellows be doing away out here in the woods?" questioned Spouter. "I'll bet I know what they are here for!" cried Andy, in a low voice. "They brought their fathers out here in that touring car." "What would they be doing that for?" "Don't you remember, Spouter, our telling you about how we saw Mr. Brown and Mr. Martell down in Wall Street, New York, talking to those fellows who looked like Germans, and how they mentioned supplies, and canned goods, and machinery, and night work, and a whole lot of things like that?" "Sure I do! And you think----" "I'll bet Andy has it right!" interrupted Randy. "Brown and Martell must be in league with those Germans, and the goods and machinery and other things they spoke about must be connected with this affair of the disabled submarine! They wanted extra pieces of machinery most likely, and they also wanted extra supplies, having probably used those that they had brought along from Germany." "You're making a pretty long guess, it seems to me," answered Spouter. "Just the same, you may be right." Not to be seen by Slugger Brown and Nappy Martell, the three cadets had withdrawn to a safe distance. Now, however, all were anxious to ascertain who might be in the cabin, and so by crouching low and hiding behind one tree and another and then some rocks and low bushes, they at last came up close to the opposite side of the shelter in the forest. "Now don't show yourselves if you can help it," said Randy in a whisper. "And if any one is discovered, leg it for all you are worth, and keep your faces turned away so that they can't see who you are." With this understanding, the three cadets surveyed the situation critically. The cabin consisted of three rooms, each boasting of a window on either side. As it was warm, all the windows and doors were wide open to admit the fresh air. "And that is what I mean when I say I want to settle this matter," they heard, in the voice of Slogwell Brown. "I think it's a shame that the thing has hung fire so long," said another person in the cabin, and now the three cadets recognized the voice of Nelson Martell. "I would never have gone into it if I had known there would be so much delay. We took a big risk in getting the supplies for you." "But, gentlemen, we are not keeping you waiting any longer than is necessary," answered a voice with a strong German accent. "We have had a delay in receiving our own remittance. Even now it is not yet arrived." "Do you mean to say you haven't got the money yet?" demanded Mr. Brown. His tone of voice showed that he felt ugly. "It was promised to-night sure," was the answer. "Captain Fuerhman was to obtain the money at the Haven Point bank this afternoon." "Was he to come here with it?" "Yes." "Then he ought to be here by now," grumbled Nelson Martell, consulting his watch. "He had to see about a small piece of machinery that was to be cast for us," resumed the man who spoke with a German accent. "I, however, expect him here by eight o'clock this evening at the latest." "Well, in that case there isn't anything left for us to do but to wait," said Slogwell Brown, surlily. "You may do that, or you may come back at that time," said the German. "I am very sorry to keep you waiting, but as I said before, gentlemen, it cannot be helped." "I don't believe the two boys will want to wait outside for two hours," said Mr. Martell to Mr. Brown. "Suppose we ride into town and get a bite to eat, and then come back here?" "That will suit me, Martell. Anything to kill off the time," answered Slogwell Brown. He turned to the German. "We'll be back here by eight o'clock. And remember! that money has got to be paid to-night." "You shall have every dollar that is coming to you, gentlemen," answered the German, who, as it afterwards proved, was the commander of the disabled submarine. A few more words passed, and then Mr. Brown and Mr. Martell came out of the cabin to where they had left Slugger and Nappy in the touring car. They entered the machine, which was immediately backed to the forest road, and then the whole party set off, Slugger driving the car. "Say, listen!" cried Spouter excitedly. "I believe that German is here all alone! What do you say if we make him a prisoner?" "No, no, don't do that!" answered Randy quickly. "We want to bag the whole bunch. Let us get to camp just as soon as we can and notify Captain Dale. Then he can organize a crowd and come back here and give Brown and Martell and the Germans the surprise of their lives." "But how are we going to find our camp?" questioned Spouter. "Dead easy. If that is the road to Haven Point, it must pass through Rackville, and if it does that, it must come pretty close to our camp. Come on!" CHAPTER XXIX THE FIGHT ON THE SUBMARINE It must be admitted that Jack, Fred, and Gif were much startled when they suddenly found themselves confronted by an armed German who looked as if he meant what he said when he commanded them to throw up their hands. On first going aboard the submarine the three cadets had been very cautious, but as they had wandered around without seeing any one aboard the craft, they had come to the conclusion that it was deserted, and consequently they had become less careful both in their actions and their conversation. Of course their hands went into the air. The German had two pistols, and he looked as if he would be willing to use the weapons upon the slightest provocation. He was a burly, red-faced man, and only about half dressed. Evidently he had been sleeping soundly when they had come aboard. "You back up there into a corner," growled the German. He spoke English quite well, although his accent was Teutonic. The young cadets did not know what else to do, and so obeyed the command. As they were in uniform, the German took them to be American soldiers, and this disturbed him greatly. "Are there any more in your party or are you alone?" he demanded. This question gave Jack a sudden idea. "Alone?" he cried. "Not much! There are over a hundred of us," he answered, referring, of course, to the number of cadets at Colby Hall. "Are you telling the truth?" growled the German, and his voice betrayed his nervousness. "He sure is telling the truth! Look behind you and see," said Fred, and began to laugh in a suggestive way. This laugh took the German off his guard, and he turned swiftly to see who might be behind him. It was the opportunity that the young captain and the young lieutenant had hoped would come, and, taking a perilous chance, they threw themselves on the back of the German, each at the same time catching hold of a hand that held a pistol. Then Gif rushed in; and between them the cadets succeeded in hurling the fellow, muscular though he was, to the floor. "Give up!" cried Jack suddenly, and, bringing out his flashlight, he placed the cold glass of the end against the German's neck. "_Kamerad! Kamerad!_" yelled the fellow promptly, thinking that it was a pistol which was pressing upon him, and on the instant he released his hold on the two pistols while he stretched out flat on his chest on the floor of the submarine. Jack lost no time in picking up one of the pistols, while Fred picked up the other. The flashlight was turned over to Gif, who, meanwhile, had armed himself with a steel bar. "Now the question is--what are we going to do with this fellow?" remarked Jack, after the short encounter had come to an end. It must be confessed that he and the others were much worked up over the situation, for they had not dreamed of coming in such personal contact with one of the enemy. "We've got to get out of here, and do it quick," returned Gif. "Those other Germans may come back at any minute." "Yes, but we'll have to take this fellow along," said Fred. "No use of leaving him here to give an alarm." "We'll gag him!" declared the young captain. And without loss of time the three cadets fixed up a gag such as they sometimes used when they were initiating a new member of one of the secret societies of the military academy. Then the German's hands were bound tightly behind him, and he was ordered to get up and march. "Wait a minute," said Fred. "We'll have to fix things here so it won't look suspicious. We'll make it look as if this chap had just stepped out for some fresh air." This was done, and a few minutes later the whole party left the submarine, Gif going ahead and the Rovers following the prisoner, each with a pistol ready for use. In this fashion they passed over the gangplank, and then made their way alongside of the underground pond until they came to the spot where the cadets had first discovered the Germans. "I don't believe we ought to leave him here," declared Jack. "That gag might slip and he might have a chance to make considerable noise, and if he did that the others might take the alarm and sail away before we could get help." "We made a mistake!" cried Gif. "I thought we were going to injure some of the machinery, so that they couldn't use the U-boat." "You're right, Gif! I got so excited I forgot all about that," declared Jack. "You can run back now and do it if you want to," said Fred. "I'll watch the prisoner." The young captain and Gif did as had been suggested. On the submarine they looked over the intricate machinery with care, and presently found some things which they could disarrange and which would probably not be noticed immediately. They went to work with vigor, and came away again in less than ten minutes. "I guess she's fixed now," declared Jack to his cousin, when they had rejoined Fred and the prisoner. "If they start up those engines, that submarine will perform stunts they never dreamed of." With the flashlight shining ahead and at times on the prisoner, the Rovers and Gif compelled the German to move along the passageway until they gained the opening near the gully. "Look out there, will you?" cried Gif suddenly, pointing between the bushes to the bay. "There is a big motor boat cruising up and down! Maybe they can give us aid." "It looks to me like a revenue boat," declared Jack, after a hurried inspection. "Say, maybe they are patrolling the bay!" "That's right!" "I am going to signal to them and find out!" exclaimed Fred; and without waiting for the others to reply, the young lieutenant dashed over the rocks and through the brushwood in the direction of the bay shore. As he did this he took out his handkerchief and waved it wildly, at the same time calling at the top of his lungs. The motor boat, a long, rakish-looking craft, was cruising quite close to the shore, and presently some of those on board noticed Fred's call for aid. The motor of the craft was shut off, and the boat drifted up to the shore. "What do you want?" demanded one of the men on board, sharply. "We want help, and we want it right away!" declared Fred. And then he added as he got a better view of those aboard the boat: "Are you United States officers?" "What do you want to know that for?" was the counter question. "Well, if you are, we want your help, and want it right away." "Why? Have you discovered anything unusual?" demanded one of the officers on the boat, and his manner showed his intense interest. "We certainly have! And more than that, we have made a prisoner--a German." "You don't mean it!" said one of the other men aboard the motor boat, and then looked more sharply at Fred than ever. "We'll have to investigate this," he added to his companions. There were three officers and a crew of eight aboard the boat, which was quickly brought long-side the rock on which Fred was standing. As the officers leaped ashore, the young lieutenant saluted and was saluted in return. Then Fred told who he was and again asked the men if they were United States officers. "If you've got a German prisoner, and you know he is really a German sympathizer, you had better take us to him at once," said one of the men, and, turning back his coat, he exhibited his badge. Feeling that the craft was one really belonging to our government and that the officers were Secret Service men, Fred told his story, at the same time leading the way to where he had left Jack, Gif, and the prisoner. "Bailey was right, after all," said one of the Secret Service men to his fellow officers. "He always declared that that wrecked submarine was in hiding somewhere around these waters." "Then you know about the submarine?" queried Fred quickly. "If it's the craft we think it is," was the reply. "That U-boat had an encounter with one of our submarine destroyers, and in trying to escape we think she hit some of the rocks on the reef beyond here. Some of the naval people were of the opinion that she had gone down, but others thought she had escaped to some base, which, of course, was unknown to our authorities. We have always had a suspicion that there was some sort of a base around here. We were cruising to-day trying to locate it." It was decided that the Secret Service men should take charge of matters, and that they would sail to the nearest town on the bay so that they might obtain additional help with which to round up all the Germans and those in league with them. "This will prove a very important capture," said Mr. Blarcomb, who was the head officer of the crowd. "And you, young men, can rest assured that you will get full credit for what you have done." "If you don't mind, I wish you would drop us off at our camp," said Jack. "It will save us a whole lot of tramping." "We'll do that willingly." It did not take the motor boat long to cover the distance to the front of the camp where the cadets were in the habit of bathing. A few were now in the water, and they looked in wonder at the sudden appearance of the Rovers and Gif. "There is Captain Dale now!" cried Jack, when they had landed and the motor boat had gone on its way. "My! won't he be surprised at the story we have to tell?" "Maybe he has already heard it, from Andy and Randy and Spouter," suggested Gif. But the old West Pointer had heard nothing, for the others had not yet come in from the forest. He listened in amazement to the story the boys had to tell. "I would like to be at that round-up myself," he declared. "I trust that they capture every one of the rascals." And then he added with a smile: "This is certainly a feather in your caps, lads." It was only a little later when the twins and Spouter came in. They, of course, were also excited. "Got one of the Germans and got the Secret Service men on the trail!" declared Fred proudly. "Good enough!" cried Andy. "But say! we have got our little story to tell, too;" and then he and the others related what had been discovered at the cabin in the woods. "This certainly is important," declared Captain Dale. "Who would ever suppose that Mr. Brown and Mr. Martell were in league with these Germans! They certainly ought to be captured." "And I'd like to be there when they are caught," declared Randy. "Well, perhaps you will be," answered Captain Dale significantly. CHAPTER XXX AN IMPORTANT CAPTURE--CONCLUSION Even though somewhat old and likewise rheumatic, Captain Dale was still a man of action, and less than half an hour later he had perfected an arrangement with the Secret Service authorities both at Rackville and at Camp Huxwell. Three automobiles were requisitioned and a detail of sixteen men, accompanied by several Secret Service authorities soon left Camp Huxwell, stopping on the way at the edge of Camp Barlight. They took on board the Rovers and their chums, and likewise Captain Dale, all of whom were anxious to see the wind-up of this remarkable happening. While still some distance from the cabin, the automobiles were brought to a standstill, and the officers and soldiers, as well as the cadets and Captain Dale, alighted, and all took to the shelter of the brushwood. A wait of nearly half an hour ensued, and during that time the three automobiles were run deep into the woods, where they would not be noticed by any passersby. Then Randy, who had been sent down the road, came back on the run. "An auto is coming!" he announced. He was right, and a minute later, the machine, driven by Slugger Brown, came into sight and ran up to the side of the cabin. Mr. Brown and Mr. Martell alighted, leaving Slugger and Nappy in the car as before. "Don't let 'em keep you here all night, Dad!" cried Nappy. "Make 'em come to terms quick," said Slugger. "They have no right to hold back on you." "You leave this business to us--we know what we are doing," answered Mr. Brown. Of course, those who had come to the place from the two camps had not shown themselves. All were secreted behind the trees and bushes on the opposite side of the cabin. Now they watched intently while Mr. Brown and Mr. Martell entered the cabin, and as they did this they noted a steady _put-put_ on the forest road, and soon a motorcycle came into sight, ridden by a middle-aged man carrying a satchel over his shoulder. "That must be the fellow who went to the bank to get the money," whispered Andy. The Secret Service men had arranged their plans with care. At a given signal four of the soldiers from Camp Huxwell surrounded the automobile occupied by Slugger and Nappy, who as before were making themselves comfortable in the tonneau and smoking cigarettes. To say that those two unworthies were surprised, would be putting it mildly. Slugger leaped to his feet in amazement, while Nappy set up a howl of terror, begging the soldiers not to shoot them. "We haven't done anything wrong!" howled Nappy. "Please don't point that gun at me!" "I don't understand this," said Slugger nervously. "There must be some mistake." "The only mistake is the one you made, young man," declared one of the soldiers briefly. In the meantime there was an interesting scene going on in the main room of the cabin. The German in charge of the place and the fellow who had come in on the motorcycle were talking earnestly to Slogwell Brown and Nelson Martell. The men from New York had a number of documents on a table, and were trying to prove that the Germans owed them over eleven thousand dollars, while the Germans were equally emphatic in declaring that the amount due was less than ten thousand dollars. "You've got to pay the full amount," growled Mr. Brown. "I won't take off a cent!" "That's the talk!" broke in Mr. Martell. "And you ought not to kick, either. We have taken terrible chances in having these things supplied to you." "Yes, and don't forget that you would never have had this secret base on Barlight Bay if it hadn't been for me," put in Slogwell Brown. "We're not forgetting anything," said one of the Germans. "And if you insist upon it that we owe you that amount, we will pay it." The man who had come in on the motorcycle had opened his valise, and now he took out several packages of banknotes. Evidently Brown and Martell were to be paid in cash. Probably they had refused to accept anything in the way of a check. The money had just been paid over and some receipts given when the leader of the Secret Service men gave the order, and the cabin was immediately surrounded. "Hands up in there, everybody!" was the stern command. If Slugger and Nappy had been surprised, their fathers were even more so, while the two Germans were taken completely off their guard. Each of the latter was armed, but one look at the United States officers with their pistols and the soldiers with their rifles was too much for them, and with grunts of disgust they threw their hands into the air. "Who--what--I--er--I don't understand this," stammered Slogwell Brown, turning pale. "There--there--must be--er--some mistake," faltered Nelson Martell, and then with shaking knees he sank slowly back on a bench. A brief war of words followed, Brown and Martell doing everything they could think of to explain the situation so that they might not be placed under arrest. But their guilt was so bare-faced that the government officers would hardly listen to them. Both they and the Germans were searched and all their weapons were taken from them. Then the prisoners were handcuffed together, and the officers made a thorough search of the cabin, picking up everything it contained of value. One took charge of the documents found and also the money which had been passed over to Mr. Brown. "A fine piece of business for a so-called American to be in!" said the head Secret Service man to Brown and Martell sternly. "I wouldn't be in your shoes for a billion dollars." "It's--it's--all a mistake. I'll--er--explain everything later," said Slogwell Brown weakly. As for Nelson Martell, he was on the verge of a collapse, and had to be supported when all left the cabin. In the meanwhile other interesting happenings were taking place in the vicinity of the wrecked submarine. There a number of Secret Service men and other officers of the law under the leadership of Mr. Blarcomb, did what they could to round up all those connected with the U-boat. There was something of a running fight, and quite a few shots were exchanged. In this fight two of the Germans were seriously wounded, and one of the Secret Service men got a bullet through his shoulder. But in the end all of the enemy were captured, and then the authorities took charge of the disabled submarine, and also the underground workshop, where the Germans had been laboring so hard to get their undersea boat once more into shape to sail. It was after midnight before all these happenings came to an end and the evildoers had either been placed in jail or under a strong military guard. The capture, of course, was kept as secret as possible by the government officials. "And to think that the fathers of Nappy Martell and Slugger Brown are guilty!" cried Ruth Stevenson, when Jack met her later on and told her some of the particulars. "Isn't it dreadful? What will they do with them?" "Most likely they will be interned for the period of the war, and maybe they will get regular jail sentences," answered the young captain. "And what will they do with Nappy and Slugger?" "Oh, they will probably be interned also." After the men at the cabin in the forest and the Germans from the wrecked submarine had been rounded up, Jed Kessler was called in, and without hesitation he recognized two of the men he had seen at the ammunition plant just before the explosion occurred. One fellow was a clean-shaven man, but it was proved that he was in the habit of wearing a heavy wig and a heavy false beard. "That fellow is one of the two we saw in New York talking to Mr. Brown and Mr. Martell!" cried Randy. And he was right, as it afterwards proved. For catching these two men who, it was later proved, had caused the wreckage at the ammunition plant, the reward offered was divided equally between Jed Kessler, the four Rovers and Gif and Spouter, much to their satisfaction. "This gives each of us a very neat bank account," declared Spouter. "I'm going to save most of it, but some of it I'll spend this summer on my vacation." "Maybe we'll all do that," put in Andy. From the authorities it was learned that Slogwell Brown had owned a large portion of the shore front lying between Camp Huxwell and Camp Barlight. He had sold all his holdings to the government, but this had not prevented the unscrupulous man from making a deal with some German agents for the use of the cave under the cliff by our country's enemies. "He was a rascal both ways," declared Captain Dale, in talking the matter over with the Rovers. "He took the government's money at one end and the Germans' money at the other. It is right that he goes to jail." And to jail Slogwell Brown went, accompanied by Nelson Martell, each to serve a number of years at hard labor. Slugger and Nappy were sent to a detention camp in the South; and that for the time being was the last the Rovers heard of them. Although there was considerable excitement around the encampment caused by the discovery of the German submarine base, the cadets were not allowed to forego their drilling and their army maneuvers. Nor did they give up the athletic contests they had promised themselves. There were swimming races and boat races, and likewise several baseball matches, and also contests in running, high and broad jumping, and in a tug-of-war. "I'll tell you one thing--this encampment is one long to be remembered," remarked Jack, when the outing had almost come to an end. The next day came a message from Camp Huxwell. The fathers of the Rovers, as well as many of their friends, were to depart immediately for Hoboken, there to take one of the big transports for France. Of course, the boys, as well as their sisters and their mothers, went to see Dick, Tom, and Sam Rover off. "The best of luck to you, Dad!" cried Jack, when the time came for parting. "I hope you make a good record for yourselves." "You can rest assured, Son, we will do our best," answered Dick Rover. Then there were numerous handshakes, the waving of handkerchiefs, and while the girls and the women were trying hard to smile and to keep back the tears, the soldiers departed on the train. "Gee, I wish I was going along!" sighed Fred. But this, of course, could not be, for all the boys were much too young to join the army. By leaving Camp Barlight that day the Rovers had missed one of the important baseball games, but for this they did not care. They tried to join in the festivities that evening, but it was a failure. Their thoughts were with their fathers. Would they come back from the war in safety? "All we can do is to hope for the best," remarked Randy; and there the matter was allowed to rest. Of course, the boys were eager for news concerning the Browns and the Martells, and also the Germans who had been captured, and they eagerly devoured every shred of information that came their way. "Well, one thing is certain--we are well rid of Slugger and Nappy and their fathers," remarked Jack. "Yes, and I guess we are rid of Gabe Werner, too," returned Fred. "He seems to have dropped out entirely." But in his remark concerning Werner the young lieutenant was mistaken. Gabe Werner turned up in their path most unexpectedly, and how will be related in the next volume in this series, to be entitled "The Rover Boys on a Hunt; or, The Mysterious House in the Woods." In that volume we shall learn what the Rover boys did on a most important outing, and also learn something of what happened to their fathers while fighting on the great battlefields of France. "Well, boys, I've got pretty good news to-day," remarked Randy, rushing into the camp one afternoon and holding up a letter. "Mr. Powell has invited all of us to spend ten days or two weeks at his camp on Lake George this summer. May is going to have all the girls there, including Mary and Martha and Ruth, and Mr. Powell wants every one of us to come up and take part in the good times." "Gee, that suits me right to the top of the flagstaff!" burst out his twin brother. And then, in high spirits, Andy turned several flipflaps, and ended by beginning a wrestling match with Fred. "Well, we'll be there, all right enough!" cried Jack. "Will we?" came from Fred. "Just wait and see!" Then the drums rattled, and the young captain and the young lieutenant, followed by the others, rushed off to get ready for the evening roll call and parade. And here, for the time being, we will leave the Rover boys and say good-bye. THE END * * * * * WESTERN STORIES FOR BOYS By JAMES CODY FERRIS Each Volume Complete in Itself. Thrilling tales of the great west, told primarily for boys but which will be read by all who love mystery, rapid action, and adventures in the great open spaces. The Manly boys, Roy and Teddy, are the sons of an old ranchman, the owner of many thousands of heads of cattle. The lads know how to ride, how to shoot, and how to take care of themselves under any and all circumstances. The cowboys of the X Bar X Ranch are real cowboys, on the job when required, but full of fun and daring--a bunch any reader will be delighted to know. THE X BAR X BOYS ON THE RANCH THE X BAR X BOYS IN THUNDER CANYON THE X BAR X BOYS ON WHIRLPOOL RIVER THE X BAR X BOYS ON BIG BISON TRAIL THE X BAR X BOYS AT THE ROUND-UP THE X BAR X BOYS AT NUGGET CAMP THE X BAR X BOYS AT RUSTLER'S GAP THE X BAR X BOYS AT GRIZZLY PASS THE X BAR X BOYS LOST IN THE ROCKIES THE X BAR X BOYS RIDING FOR LIFE THE X BAR X BOYS IN SMOKY VALLEY * * * * * THE HARDY BOYS SERIES By FRANKLIN W. DIXON Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself The Hardy Boys are sons of a celebrated American detective, and during vacations and their off time from school they help their father by hunting down clues themselves. THE TOWER TREASURE--A dying criminal confessed that his loot had been secreted "in the tower." It remained for the Hardy Boys to clear up the mystery. THE HOUSE ON THE CLIFF--Mr. Hardy started to investigate--and disappeared! An odd tale, with plenty of excitement. THE SECRET OF THE OLD MILL--Counterfeit money was in circulation, and the limit was reached when Mrs. Hardy took some from a stranger. A tale full of thrills. THE MISSING CHUMS--Two of the Hardy Boys' chums disappear and are almost rescued by their friends when all are captured. A thrilling story of adventure. HUNTING FOR HIDDEN GOLD--in tracing some stolen gold the trail leads the boys to an abandoned mine, and there things start to happen. THE SHORE ROAD MYSTERY--Automobiles were disappearing most mysteriously from the Shore Road. It remained for the Hardy Boys to solve the mystery. THE SECRET OF THE CAVES--When the boys reached the caves they came unexpectedly upon a queer old hermit. THE MYSTERY OF CABIN ISLAND--A story of queer adventures on a rockbound island. THE GREAT AIRPORT MYSTERY--The Hardy Boys solve the mystery of the disappearance of some valuable mail. WHAT HAPPENED AT MIDNIGHT--The boys follow a trail that ends in a strange and exciting situation. WHILE THE CLOCK TICKED--The Hardy Boys aid in vindicating a man who has been wrongly accused of a crime. FOOTPRINTS UNDER THE WINDOW--The Smuggling of Chinese into this country is the basis of this story in which the boys find thrills and excitement aplenty. * * * * * TED SCOTT FLYING STORIES By FRANKLIN W. DIXON Illustrated. Each Volume Complete in Itself. No subject has so thoroughly caught the imagination of young America as aviation. This series has been inspired by recent daring feats of the air, and is dedicated to Lindbergh, Byrd, Chamberlin and other heroes of the skies. OVER THE OCEAN TO PARIS; _or, Ted Scott's Daring Long Distance Flight_. RESCUED IN THE CLOUDS; _or, Ted Scott, Hero of the Air_. OVER THE ROCKIES WITH THE AIR MAIL; _or, Ted Scott Lost in the Wilderness_. FIRST STOP HONOLULU; _or, Ted Scott Over the Pacific_. THE SEARCH FOR THE LOST FLYERS; _or, Ted Scott Over the West Indies_. SOUTH OF THE RIO GRANDE; _or, Ted Scott On a Secret Mission_. ACROSS THE PACIFIC; _or, Ted Scott's Hop to Australia_. THE LONE EAGLE OF THE BORDER; _or, Ted Scott and the Diamond Smugglers_. FLYING AGAINST TIME; _or, Breaking the Ocean to Ocean Record_. OVER THE JUNGLE TRAILS; _or, Ted Scott and the Missing Explorers_. LOST AT THE SOUTH POLE; _or, Ted Scott in Blizzard Land_. THROUGH THE AIR TO ALASKA; _or, Ted Scott's Search in Nugget Valley_. FLYING TO THE RESCUE; _or, Ted Scott and the Big Dirigible_. DANGER TRAILS OF THE SKY; _or, Ted Scott's Great Mountain Climb_. FOLLOWING THE SUN SHADOW; _or, Ted Scott and the Great Eclipse_. BATTLING THE WIND; _or, Ted Scott Flying Around Cape Horn_. GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK