Kitabı oku: «Dave Porter's Return to School. Winning the Medal of Honor», sayfa 6

CHAPTER XII
AT WORK IN THE DARK

Dave had more than half expected the declaration the Widow Fairchild made, so when it came he was not surprised. The others, however, stared in bewilderment and dismay.

"All gone?" queried Mike Marcy.

"Every dollar!" groaned the widow. "Oh, the rascals, the heartless villains! To rob a poor widow in this fashion! And I worked so hard to save that money! Oh, where are they? I must catch them and get my money back!" And she stalked around the room wringing her hands in her despair.

"What a pity that we got here too late," said Dave. "I wish you had hurried more," he continued to the Irish-American farmer. "I told you not to waste time."

"Don't ye blame me for this!" replied Mike Marcy, half in alarm and half in wrath. "I hurried all I could."

"Let us make a search for the rascals," said Joel Burr. "They may not be very far off."

"It won't do any good," announced Farmer Brown. "We've been around here too long a-looking for 'em."

"Yes, they're a long way off by this time," said his son Bill. "With four hundred dollars in their pockets they won't let no grass grow under their feet."

"This is the third robbery inside of six weeks," was Joel Burr's comment. "Must say they be getting mighty free-handed."

In spite of what had been said, all went outside and took a look around the grounds and up and down the highway. But it was useless; not the least trace of the burglars could be found anywhere about.

While the others were outside, the widow inspected her house more thoroughly. She said a dozen silver spoons were missing and likewise an old gold watch and some old-fashioned gold and pearl jewelry. She placed her total loss at nearly five hundred dollars.

Dave had to tell his story in detail, to which all of the others but Mike Marcy listened with interest. The widow blamed the Irish-American farmer for not having come to the house sooner, declaring that had he done so the robbers would have been caught red-handed; and quite a war of words followed.

"What am I to do, now my money is gone?" she wailed. "I cannot pay that carpenter's bill and it must be paid by the end of this month."

"You'll have to notify the constable, or the sheriff," answered Joel Burr.

"What good will that do? They haven't done anything for Lapham, nor for Jerry Logan who was robbed in Oakdale."

"Well, I don't know what you can do, widder."

Mrs. Fairchild declared, when she had settled down a little, that the man who had spoken to her about the sick baby had had a hoarse voice, and all were satisfied that that individual was one of those Dave had heard talk near the smokehouse. But she had not seen his face, so she could not give any description of him excepting to say that he was rather tall.

It was now nearly eleven o'clock, and as Dave had had no supper he was hungry. His tramping around had made him tired, and he said if he was not wanted any more he would go home.

"Go as far as I am concerned," said Mike Marcy. "But don't lay the blame of this robbery on me. Remember, ye had no right to be trespassin' on my property."

"I simply told the truth," said Dave; and a little later he withdrew and hurried forth into the night in the direction of Oak Hall.

It was a lonely road and a less courageous boy might have been frightened. It was cold and quiet and he walked a full mile without meeting a soul. Then, as he was passing Mike Marcy's orchard, two figures sprang out in the darkness.

"Dave!"

"Hello, so it is you, Phil, and Roger! What brought you out again?"

"We came to find you. We were afraid you had gotten into trouble with Mike Marcy," answered Phil.

"Where in the world have you been?" asked the senator's son. "We reported that you had lost your watch, but didn't expect you'd stay away so long."

"Well, I've had troubles enough," answered Dave, with a faint smile, and as the three hurried for the academy he told his tale from beginning to end.

"Well, if this doesn't beat the Greeks!" exclaimed Phil. "Say, these robberies are getting serious."

"Are you going to tell Dr. Clay?" asked Roger.

"Certainly. I haven't done anything wrong, so why shouldn't I tell him?"

"I guess you are right. But I shouldn't disturb him to-night. It will be time enough to go to him in the morning."

Phil and Roger had gotten out of the Hall by a back way, leaving the door unlocked behind them. The three boys, as a consequence, entered easily, and then Dave took the chance of being discovered by going down to the kitchen for something to eat. In the pantry he found a pumpkin pie, some cold beans, and some milk, and on these made a hearty repast. Then he went to bed and slept soundly until the bell awoke him at seven o'clock.

He felt that he should be reprimanded and he was not mistaken. Job Haskers strode up to him as soon as he went below.

"Master Porter, where were you last evening?" he demanded, in harsh tones.

"I lost my watch, Mr. Haskers, and went to look for it. Then something very unusual happened, which I am going to report to Dr. Clay."

"Something unusual, eh?" said the assistant teacher, curiously.

"Yes, sir. But I prefer to report to Dr. Clay."

"Hum! Very well – I will talk to the doctor myself later. We cannot permit pupils of this institution to come and go at will." And with an air of great importance Job Haskers passed on.

As soon as breakfast was over Dave went to Dr. Clay's private study. The worthy owner of Oak Hall was at his desk, looking over some letters which had just come in. He gazed at Dave in mild curiosity.

"Dr. Clay, may I speak to you for a few minutes?" asked the youth.

"Certainly, Porter. Come in and sit down."

Dave entered and closed the door after him, for he had caught sight of Job Haskers close at hand, curious to learn what he might have to say for himself. Sitting down he told his rather remarkable story, to which the master of the Hall listened with close attention.

"These robbers are certainly getting bold," said Dr. Clay. "It is a pity you could not get out of that smokehouse sooner."

"That is just what I told the others."

"You are certain you went over to Marcy's only for the kite and later for the watch?" and the doctor looked Dave squarely in the eyes.

"That's it, sir. I did not touch his apples or anything else, and neither did Phil nor Roger."

"Then he certainly had no right to lock you up. Do you wish to make a complaint against him?"

"No, not that. Only I wanted to explain why I didn't get back to school last evening."

"I see."

"Mr. Haskers approached me about it and acted as if he wanted to punish me."

"Ah! Well, you can tell him that I have taken the matter in hand and that you have been excused. I have but one fault to find, and that is – " The doctor paused and smiled.

"That we didn't catch the robbers," finished Dave.

"Exactly. The authorities must get after the rascals. Until they are caught nobody in this district will be safe."

After a few words more Dave left the office and went to his classroom. As he did this Job Haskers entered the doctor's office. He must have asked the master of Oak Hall about Dave, for after he came away he said nothing more to the youth concerning his absence.

The next few days went quietly by. From Lemond the boys learned that Mrs. Fairchild had appealed to the authorities and two detectives were at work searching for the robbers, but so far nothing had been learned about the rascals.

"They'll keep quiet for a while," said Ben, and such proved to be the case.

One afternoon a letter reached Oak Hall addressed to Roger Morr, Captain Oak Hall Football Club. It proved to be the expected challenge from Rockville Military Academy. The eleven of that institution challenged the Oak Hall team to play a game of football two weeks from that date, on some grounds to be mutually decided upon. Pinned to the challenge was a note stating a certain rich gentleman named Richard Mongrace had offered a fine gold cup to the winning team, providing the match was played on the new grounds laid out in his private park, located at Hilltop, six miles from the river.

"Here is the challenge at last," said Roger, and he read it aloud. "I suppose there is nothing to do but accept."

"Yes, we've got to give them the chance to even up," said Phil.

"They haven't forgotten that we beat them last season by a score of 11 to 8," said another of the eleven.

"I've heard something about their team this year," said Ben. "They have dropped three old players and have three A No. 1 fellows in their places. Two weeks ago, as you know, they beat the Hamilton eleven, 17 to 5, and day before yesterday they played White College eleven and won out by a score of 12 to 5."

"Then they must be a heap stronger than they were last year," said Buster Beggs. "For last year White College beat them badly."

"Yes, and Hamilton beat them too," added Dave. "I shouldn't wonder but that they've got a crackajack team this year."

"Are we going to back out?" demanded the senator's son.

"No!" came back in a chorus.

"Oak Hall never backs out!" cried Ben.

"Well, where are we to play? I suppose they would like to play at the Mongrace field," said Roger.

"It's a dandy spot – I was up there on my wheel last Saturday," said Shadow Hamilton. "They've got a nice stand there, too."

"And our field is all lumpy," said Phil. "The doctor is going to have it leveled off next spring."

"Then let us go in for that gold cup!" cried Sam Day. And several others echoed the sentiment.

A regular meeting of the football club was called that night, and it was decided, after consulting Dr. Clay, to accept the Rockville challenge to play on the Mongrace grounds. A letter was accordingly written and forwarded the next Monday.

"Now we have got to brace up and practise," said the captain of the eleven.

"I wish you could get rid of two of our poorest players and take on Babcock and Henshaw," remarked Dave. "Those two would help us wonderfully."

"They both want to come in," answered the senator's son. "But I don't see how I can drop any of our present members after the way they have worked."

"Yes, I know that wouldn't be fair."

"I've already taken them on as substitutes. Maybe they'll get in the game after all," went on Roger.

Practice began in earnest during that week and all did their best to follow the coaching they got from the first assistant teacher, Andrew Dale, who had been both a college player and a coach. The play was a trifle mixed at times, but the boys worked with a will and that counted for a good deal. But then came a letter calling one of the players home, to attend the funeral of an uncle.

"I've got to leave the eleven," said Luke Watson. "You'll have to get somebody to take my place."

"I am sorry to see you go," said Roger, sympathetically.

"Take Babcock," went on Luke. "You couldn't do better."

"I will," answered the senator's son.

CHAPTER XIII
IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY

Paul Babcock was more than glad to get on the eleven actively, and that afternoon he showed it in his practice. The work was snappy from start to finish and gave Mr. Dale great satisfaction.

"That is something like," declared the first assistant teacher. "Keep it up and you will surely win."

After the practice was over Babcock left the field in company with Dave. As the two strolled across the campus they passed Gus Plum, who scowled deeply at his former player.

"Plum doesn't like it that you've come over to us," observed Dave. "He looked like a regular thundercloud."

"He has nobody to blame but himself," answered Paul Babcock. "Even if his team were still in existence I'd never play with him again. I want to act on the square, and that is more than he wants to do."

"I've heard he wanted you to use foul play."

"Yes, he was at both Henshaw and me to do some dirty work. But we declined, and I told him I had a good mind to punch his nose for suggesting it. That made him boiling mad."

In due course of time came a letter from Mr. Richard Mongrace, stating he was glad to learn the match was to come off on his new grounds, and that he would do all in his power to make the two elevens and their friends comfortable. The golden cup he proposed to put up cost exactly one hundred dollars and was to belong to the school winning it twice in two or three games, one game a year to be played for it.

Dr. Clay knew Mr. Mongrace well and one day drove over to see the new grounds. He came back in an enthusiastic mood.

"Mr. Mongrace is certainly a fine man," said the master of Oak Hall. "He has with him a sick brother who cannot leave the estate. This brother used to be a famous football player on the Princeton team. For his benefit Mr. Mongrace has laid out the field, and he is going to have some of the best amateur teams in the country play there."

"That will cost some money," said Roger.

"Yes, but he is rich and can easily afford it. He has erected a fine grand stand and will also put up a big tent, where refreshments will be served to the visitors from both academies."

After that the doctor spoke about the coming event before the whole school. He said he trusted that they would all act like young gentlemen while guests of Mr. Mongrace and thus do their institution credit.

The only persons at Oak Hall who did not look forward to the match with favor were Plum, Poole, and Jasniff. At first they thought to remain at home during the contest, but afterwards changed their minds, the reason being a plan which Nick Jasniff proposed.

Jasniff was thoroughly unscrupulous, and a year before had been dismissed from another boarding academy because of his dishonorable actions. He was a lad who was willing to do almost anything to accomplish his end.

Jasniff's plan was nothing more or less than to play a trick on some members of Roger's eleven, so that they could not take part in the game. This would weaken the Oak Hall club to such an extent that they would be likely to lose.

"Can we do it?" asked Poole.

"Certainly we can," answered Nick Jasniff. "Why, such things have been done hundreds of times."

"Well, what do you propose?" asked Gus Plum.

"I'll tell you to-morrow. I've got to think it over."

"I wish I was dead sure Oak Hall would lose," whispered the bully of the school. "We might make some money by the operation."

"So we could!" cried Nat Poole. "All the Rockville boys are betting they will win."

"And we could bet the same way," said Jasniff, with a leer. "Only we'll have to put up our money through some outsider."

"I can fix that," said Gus Plum. "I know a fellow in Oakdale who will do it for us."

The day set for the great football match dawned bright and clear. As soon as they could get away from their school duties Roger's eleven went out for a short practice and Henshaw and the other substitutes with them. Henshaw was sorry he was not on the regular team, but said little about it.

While the practice was going on, Plum, Poole, and Jasniff watched all the players closely, trying to gain the knowledge of some tricks and signals, which they hoped later to divulge to the Rockville eleven.

The practice at an end, Babcock announced that he wanted to go to a place called Leeton on an errand. Leeton was a small railroad crossing two miles from the school, where Babcock had a relative living.

"Wouldn't you like to go with me?" he asked Dave. "We can go over on our bicycles and be back inside of an hour."

Dave was willing, thinking the short spin on a wheel would do him good. They soon set off, and before long were well on the road.

"There's our chance!" cried Nick Jasniff, as he and his cronies watched the departure. "Just what I wanted!"

"Shall we go after them?" asked Plum.

"Sure!"

The bully and the others had bicycles – indeed nearly every youth at Oak Hall had one, for the craze was at its height. The three set off without delay, following the same road Dave and Babcock had taken.

Unconscious of the fact that they were being followed, Dave and his companion spun along. There was a winding road, across a brook, then up a hill, and over another small hill to the railroad crossing. At several places pedaling was rather difficult, but they did not mind it, being fresh and with good wind.

Arriving at the railroad crossing, Babcock stopped at the house for which he was bound and executed his errand. Then the two lads got a drink of water at the well and started on the return.

"I'll race you back!" cried Babcock.

"Better not race to-day," cautioned Dave. "We want to save our strength for the game."

"All right, Dave, just as you say. But a little race wouldn't hurt me."

Not far from Leeton the road made a sharp turn, coming up close to the railroad tracks. Here there was a steep down grade for three hundred feet. As the boys neared the turn they began to coast, thinking the way perfectly clear.

They were almost to the bottom of the hill when something happened that filled them with alarm. Close to the side of the roadway stood a tall, slim tree. As they came up the tree fell directly in their path.

"Look out!" yelled Dave, who was in advance, and then his bicycle struck the tree and he was pitched headlong over the handle-bars. Babcock also took a tumble, and both lads came down violently at the side of the road, where there was a gully filled with rocks and hard dirt. Both slid along, turned over, and then lay still.

A full minute passed and neither Dave nor Babcock offered to get up. Then from out of the bushes near by Plum, Poole, and Jasniff emerged.

"We caught 'em right enough," muttered Jasniff. "The tree came down just in time."

"Ar – are they hu – hurt much!" faltered Nat Poole. His face was as white as death itself.

"They are certainly knocked out," answered Nick Jasniff, coolly.

"Oh, I hope they ain't dead!" gasped Poole, his knees beginning to shake.

"They are not dead," announced Gus Plum, who was bending over the fallen youths. "They are stunned, that's all." And he breathed a short sigh of relief, for he had been fearful of serious results.

"We had better get away, before they come to their senses and recognize us," went on Poole, who was the most timid-hearted of the unworthy trio.

While they were deliberating they heard the whistle of a locomotive on the railroad and soon a long train of empty freight cars came into view. Then, when about half the train had gone by, the cars came to a sudden halt, brought to a stop because of a danger signal at the crossing.

"What's the freight train stopping for?" asked Plum.

"Don't ask me," answered Nick Jasniff. "But I say," he added suddenly. "The very thing!"

"What?"

"Let us put 'em both in one of the empty cars!"

"Oh, don't bother!" answered Nat Poole, who, had he had his choice, would have wheeled away without delay.

"They are only stunned – they'll soon come around," went on Jasniff. "If we leave them here they may get in the game anyway. We may as well send them off to parts unknown!"

This plan appealed strongly to Gus Plum, and both he and Jasniff walked to the train and looked up and down the long line of empty cars. Not a soul was in sight.

"The coast is clear," said Jasniff. "Come on, we can do it in a jiffy, and nobody will be the wiser."

They went over to Babcock, raised him up, and carried him to the nearest of the cars. The sliding door was wide open, and they pushed the unconscious form half across the car floor. Then they ran back and picked up Dave. At that moment came the whistle of the locomotive.

"Hurry up, they are going to start!" said Jasniff, and they lost no time in pushing Dave into the car. Then Jasniff rolled the door shut.

"Might as well lock 'em in," he suggested, but before he could accomplish his purpose the train gave a jerk and went on its way. All three of the students stared at it and watched it out of sight.

"They are gone, that's sure," murmured Gus Plum. His heart was beating violently.

"Yes, and they won't come back in a hurry," chuckled Nick Jasniff.

"Maybe they will be carried clear to New York," said Nat Poole.

"If they are, so much the better."

"You are sure they weren't seriously hurt?"

"I guess not."

"If they are, and we are found out – "

"Who is going to tell on us?" demanded Nick Jasniff. "Don't you dare to open your trap, Nat."

"Oh, I shan't say a word."

"Nobody saw us," said Gus Plum. "So, if we keep quiet, nobody will ever know we had anything to do with it."

"What about the wheels?"

"Leave them right where they are. Somebody will pick them up sooner or later. Both are marked Oak Hall and have the initials on them."

"Well, what are we to do next?" asked Gus Plum, after an awkward pause.

"Get out of here and wheel over to Oakdale," answered Nick Jasniff, who had become the leader of the unworthies. "We can put our money in the hands of Lancaster and he can put it up on Rockville for us. We are now sure to win."

"Morr will put Henshaw in Babcock's place," said Poole, as they rode away.

"Will he? Not after Henshaw has had his dinner," and Nick Jasniff winked knowingly.

"Do you mean to dose him?" asked Plum.

"I guess I will. I sit close to him and I can drop a little powder in his food which will make him feel weak and dizzy all the afternoon."

"Have you got the powder?"

"I can get it from Lancaster. He told me about it several days ago."

"It isn't poison, is it?" asked Nat Poole. He was beginning to grow afraid of Nick Jasniff's bold ways.

"No, it won't hurt him a bit, only make him weak and light-headed for a few hours."

"Then give it to him by all means," urged Gus Plum. "With Porter, Babcock, and Henshaw out of the game Rockville is bound to beat, and if we make the right kind of bets we ought to win a pot of money!"