Kitabı oku: «Bobby Blake at Rockledge School: or, Winning the Medal of Honor», sayfa 8
CHAPTER XVI
HOT POTATOES
Bobby and Fred had already become leaders to a degree, with the boys of their own age at Rockledge School. This suggestion of the red-haired one about building a hut was accepted with enthusiasm by the fifteen others in the present crowd.
They trooped up into the thick grove that crowned the summit of the rocky island. Bobby and Fred had been on many camping expeditions at home, along the banks of Plunkit Creek. They wasted no time in discussing how they should build a shelter with the materials at hand.
"Leave it to us, and we'll go ahead and show you how to make a nice shack," promised Bobby, when the others began to gabble as to how it should be done.
"Good idea!" cried Pee Wee. "Let's elect Bobby Blake, captain.
"And Fred Martin, lieutenant," said Shiner. "They both know what to do and we don't."
This was agreed to without a word of objection from any of the fifteen. Bobby took charge at once.
"Here are four trees," he announced, pointing to four that stood almost in a square, some twelve feet apart, and with nothing but saplings in the square made by them. "These will be our posts. First we want to clean out all the small trees and brush inside these big trees, and for some feet around the outside – so we can work."
"Wish we had more axes," said Fred.
"We all have knives. Those with knives can cut off the smaller brush. Skeets is really our only woodsman. Come on, Skeets, and let's find four good trees for the cross-timbers."
They were all soon very busy. Bobby did little but show the others what to do and make measurements with a piece of fishline. Fred gave his attention to cutting spruce boughs for walls and roof.
Skeets cut the four trees needed, they were measured and notched at the ends and then lifted into place – each end in a crotch of the low branching trees Bobby had selected for the corner posts of the hut.
The roof would not be exactly flat, for one crotch was somewhat higher than the others, but the four timbers lay firm, being lashed together with black-birch withes.
Soon the other boys began to bring the spruce boughs; but first Bobby laid several good sized saplings across the string-pieces, to strengthen the roof.
They worked so hard and with such enthusiasm that they really forgot the potatoes under the bonfire. In two hours a heavy roofing of boughs lay upon the poles, and the boys could all stand up under it and be sheltered.
Suddenly Fred exclaimed: "Crickey! Let's see if those potatoes are done. I'm as hungry as a hound right now."
This set them all on a run. It does not take much to put an edge on a boy's appetite. Just the suggestion of the potatoes was enough.
"First at the fire!" yelled Howell Purdy, as he hurried down through the grove, and over the rocks.
"Bet you I make it first!" declared Shiner, vigorously following the leader.
It was a stampede. With whoops and shouts the seventeen scrambled down the descent to the shore.
Suddenly they halted. Shiner and Howell, who had been wrestling to put each other behind, looked, too. There was a crowd of boys around their campfire on the shore.
"Who are they?" demanded Bobby, in amazement.
"Say! they're raking out our potatoes!" gasped Fred Martin.
"They're Beldenites!" declared Pee Wee, panting, and on the high ground behind. "There's their boats. And there's half as many more of them as there are of us."
"I don't care if they're two to one!" cried Fred in anger. "Those are our potatoes."
"Suppose they beat us and take away our boats?" demanded Howell Purdy, falling back. "You know – those Belden fellows can fight."
"Well! can't we?" demanded Fred Martin, panting and doubling his fists. "What are we – babies?"
"We won't fight – yet," put in Bobby, calmly. "Perhaps they don't realize that that is our fire and our potatoes."
"What'll we do?" asked Pee Wee, by no means anxious to advance.
"Come on," said Bobby; feeling dreadfully shaken inside, but too proud to show it. "Let's talk to them."
"Better get some clubs and go for them," growled Fred.
"No. They haven't clubs," declared Bobby. "Let's not start any fight."
He and Shiner and Mouser proceeded along the beach. They saw the Belden fellows scrambling for the hot potatoes, and shouting and skylarking.
"That's Larry Cronk – that fellow with the curly hair. Don't you remember, Bobby? He pitched for their club when we went over to beat them that day."
"I remember. And that's their first baseman – Ben Allen." Then Bobby raised his voice so the Belden crowd could hear him: "I say! that's our fire and those are our potatoes. We were just coming down to get them."
"Is that so?" sneered Larry Cronk, standing up and laughing at the Rockledge boys. "Well, you came too late – do you see?"
"I'll throw a rock at him!" growled the belligerent Fred.
"Keep still!" commanded Bobby. Then to the Beldenites he said: "That's not fair – or honest. Those are our potatoes – "
Larry swung back his arm, and poised one of the potatoes. The next moment he flung it with all his force at Bobby. The latter just escaped it by dodging.
"Mean thing!" yelled Fred, and he picked up a stone on the instant (there were plenty of pebbles on the beach) and flung it at the Belden's captain.
"That's right! let's drive them off!" cried Pee Wee, from the rear.
Fred's stone was flung true and Larry Cronk received it in the shoulder. He yelled and dodged, and at once the Belden boys let go a flight of hot potatoes!
The potatoes burst wherever they struck – and not a few of them landed upon the boys who had hoped to feast upon the tubers. This was adding insult to injury, and the Rockledge boys were greatly enraged.
"They're spoiling all our 'taters!" cried Pee Wee – almost wailing, in fact. "There! there's another busted."
He had turned just in time to get the potato in the back instead of in the chest. Mouser and Howell were jumping about and rubbing their cheeks. The hot potatoes burned as well as stung, and although they were mealy enough to fly all about when they burst – like miniature bombs – when flung by a vigorous arm, they hurt more than a little.
The Rockledge crowd broke before the flight of hot potatoes, and seemed about to run back to the woods. But Bobby and Fred could not stand that.
"Hold on, fellows!" yelled Fred. "We can lick those chaps – I know we can! Get some stones! They can't hurt more than hot potatoes."
Bobby did not delay in joining in the return fusillade of stones. Some of the pebbles landed heavily. Although outnumbering the Rockledge boys by considerable, the Belden crowd began to retreat toward its boats.
"Come on! push them!" yelled Fred, running ahead.
The others, thus encouraged, ran after him. They reached their own boats and felt safe, then. The Beldens could not get their craft away from them.
At the fire there were a lot of the potatoes scattered about and trampled into the sand. Pee Wee began yelling:
"Use the stones! use the stones! Don't fling those potatoes – we want them!"
This brought about some laughter, and the Rockledge boys did not throw their missiles so viciously thereafter. The Beldens had gotten enough, anyway. Two of them were nursing bad bruises on their heads, and were crying. Bobby was glad the battle was so soon over, for he was afraid somebody would be seriously hurt.
The Belden youngsters scrambled into their boats and pushed off from the island, while the Rockledge boys collected all the potatoes they could find, that had not burst, and enjoyed their delayed feast with the sauce of having won it by force of arms.
They did not finish the hut on the island that day, but agreed to come back to complete it the next half holiday – if they could gain permission.
CHAPTER XVII
LOST AT SEA
And then there came an unhappy time indeed for Bobby Blake. In the back of his mind, for weeks, had been the uncertainty about his father and mother. Now that uncertainty suddenly developed into a great and lingering horror – a horror from which not even the elasticity of youth could easily rebound.
One morning Dr. Raymond sent a note into Mr. Carrin's school. Had not Bobby been so busy at his work, he would have seen the pale faced teacher grow still more pallid, and look at him.
Mr. Carrin arose and walked up and down the room. The boys soon discovered that he was not watching them. Occasionally he stole a glance at Bobby, but he noticed no other boy.
Then, without saying another word, he went out, and in a minute came back with Barry Gray. Barry looked startled himself, and very serious. He stood in the doorway and said:
"Blake! Doctor Raymond wants you in his office. You are to come with me."
Bobby got up quickly, and with a suddenly beating heart. He believed he must have done something to bring down upon his head the wrath of the good Doctor. He could not imagine what it was, but he was frightened.
You see, Bobby had gotten it into his head that possibly he might have a chance at the Medal of Honor. He was trying to be an exemplary scholar for that reason – and because he knew it would delight his absent father and mother, if he gained such an honor.
Now, this sudden and unexpected call shocked him. Fred grabbed his hand secretly as he passed his seat and squeezed it. Bobby knew that his chum, thoughtless as Fred usually was, appreciated his present feelings.
When he reached the door, his own face was aflame. He knew all the boys of the Lower School were looking at him. Mr. Carrin, too, seemed to be staring at Bobby in a strange way.
Barry put his arm across the smaller boy's shoulder just as soon as the classroom door closed behind them.
"Buck up, old man!" he said, with a funny choke in his voice. "Things are never so hard as they seem at first. And there's such a lot of uncertainty about such reports – "
"What reports, sir?" asked Bobby, breathlessly.
"Didn't Carrin tell you a thing?" gasped Barry, stopping short.
"No! What have I done? What's Doctor Raymond going to do with me?"
"Why, you poor little kid!" ejaculated the big boy, grabbing Bobby tightly again. "You mustn't be afraid of the Old Doc. He wouldn't hurt a fly. And you're not in bad with him – don't think it!"
"But what is the matter, then?" demanded Bobby.
"It's your folks, Bob," blurted out Barry. "There's uncertain news about them – "
"They're not sick – not dead?" cried Bobby, shaking all over.
"No, no! Of course not," returned Barry, heartily. "Nothing as bad as that."
"What is it, then?"
"Why, it's only a shipwreck, or something like that. Of course they've been rescued; folks always are, you know. And they'll have lots of adventures to write you about."
Bobby was speechless. His pretty, delicate mother shipwrecked! Of course, his father would save her, but she might get wet and catch cold; that was the first thought that took form in his mind.
"News has come about the big ship they sailed away on," Barry Gray went on, cheerfully. "Another ship has found part of the deckworks of your father's steamship, all scorched and burned. There must have been a fire at sea."
"Well, don't you s'pose they could put the fire out with so much water around?" asked Bobby, seriously.
"That's right!" exclaimed Barry. "But perhaps the machinery was hurt, so the ship couldn't be made to go. There wasn't any sails to her, of course."
"I see," said Bobby, gravely, nodding.
"So they had to take to the boats. You know how it is: Women and children first! The sailors are always so brave. And the officers stand by to the last – and if the ship sinks, the captain always goes down with her, standing on the quarter deck, with the flags flying. You've read about it, Bobby!"
"Sure!" choked Bobby.
"Of course there are always boats enough for the passengers – and life-rafts. And they float about for a while and are either picked up by other ships, or the natives row out in their canoes and save them."
"Yes!" gasped Bobby, letting out the great fear at his heart. "But – but suppose she should get cold? You know she has a weak throat. The doctor always tells her to look out for bron – bron-skeeters, or somethin' like that."
"Who has bronchitis?" demanded Barry, rather puzzled.
"My mother."
"Oh! don't you know it's a warm climate down there? Sure! It's in the Tropics. No chance of catching cold – not at all."
"Oh!" murmured Bobby, and he felt somewhat relieved.
"And they've been picked up by some ship bound around the world, maybe – that is why you haven't heard from them. You won't hear till they touch at some port clear across the world, from which they can send mail.
"Or perhaps," said the comforting captain, "they have gone to some tropic island, where boats don't often touch. And the sailors will build shelters for the passengers against the coming of the rainy season, and then a boat-load of volunteers will hike out looking for a civilized port, and it will be months and months before help comes to the island.
"Meanwhile," said the imaginative youngster, his eyes glowing and his cheek flushed, "your mother and the other ladies will get well and strong, and all brown like Indians. And the men will have to dress in goat-skins, for their clothes will wear out, and they'll learn to make fire by rubbing two sticks together, and they'll have fights with jaguars – But no!" exclaimed the big boy, suddenly; "of course, there will be no harmful creatures on an island.
"Say! I guess they're having fun all right. Don't you worry, Bobby."
They halted at the doctor's door, and Barry rapped. The voice of the big principal told them to "Enter!" and the bigger boy pushed open the door.
"Here he is, sir," said Barry, winking fast over the head of the smaller boy at Dr. Raymond. "I have just been telling him what a jolly good time his folks are likely having right now. It must be so interesting to be shipwrecked."
CHAPTER XVIII
THE BLOODY CORNER
The news went over the school at noon, of course, and most of the smaller boys eyed Bobby Blake askance. The boy himself seemed walking in a kind of cloud; his mind was stunned, and it was lucky that Dr. Raymond had said to him, kindly:
"You are excused from recitations to-day, Robert."
The good doctor had spoken to him quite cheerfully of the probable loss of the steamship on which Mr. and Mrs. Blake had sailed from New York. The principal seemed to have taken his cue from Barrymore Gray.
To tell the truth, what Barry had said cheered Bobby more than anything else. Even Fred Martin was a trifle depressing. Fred wanted to give him his share in the bats and mask and other baseball paraphernalia, and turn over to him, in fact, most of his personal property, likely to be dear to a boy's heart.
This was the red-haired boy's way of showing sympathy. But it did not help much.
The roseate picture Barry had drawn of the shipwreck stuck in Bobby's mind. He was very glad his mother could not take cold down there, even if she got her feet wet.
For several days the other boys were very gentle with Bobby. It did not make Bobby feel very comfortable, but he knew they meant it kindly.
Soon, however, their awkwardness wore off, and they were as rough and friendly as ever, and he liked it better. Deep in his heart he kept thinking all the time of his parents, and the possibilities arising out of the wreck of the steamship. Outwardly he was much the same as ever.
Only one thing Bobby Blake desired now more than before. He longed – oh! how he didlong – to win the Medal of Honor. If his parents were shipwrecked, and there was any suffering for them in it, it seemed to Bobby that if he won the Honor Medal at Rockledge School, that fact would alleviate their misery, wherever they were!
Yet there was nothing of the mollycoddle about Bobby. Fun appealed to him just as strongly as it ever did to any ten year old boy.
There were certain set rules of Rockledge School that he would not break and that he kept Fred from breaking.
"There's no fun in getting caught and held up to the whole school as dishonorable," he told Fred. "We're expected to keep in bounds. We know the bounds well enough. And if we want to go out of them, we have only to ask, and give a good reason, to get permission to go farther."
"Aw, they treat us as if we were a lot of babies," growled Fred Martin.
"They do nothing of the kind," Bobby replied. "Doctor Raymond treats us as though we were gentlemen. He trusts to our honor. I wouldn't disappoint him for a farm!"
"We-ell!" sighed Fred. "I suppose you're right, Bobby. I – I almost wish he didn't treat us just this way. There'd be some fun in busting up the old rules!"
And that was where Dr. Raymond showed his wisdom. He knew how to manage boys with the least amount of friction.
Weeks passed, full of work and play, and no further news came of the lost steamship on which Mr. and Mrs. Blake had sailed for Brazil. The wreckage had been sighted off the Orinoco, and the name of the steamship was plain upon the wreck. But it might have drifted a long way after the catastrophe. Just where the ship had been burned, nobody could guess.
No boat from her, no word from her captain or crew, came to the owners in New York. She had been a freight boat, carrying on that trip scarcely a score of passengers.
Much of this Bobby did not hear, or understand. He clung like a limpet to the imaginative idea of a shipwreck that Barrymore Gray had drawn for him. And it was well that this was so.
Thanksgiving came and went. The Belden school came over in the forenoon to Rockledge and its football team was nicely thrashed by the Rockledge eleven. The Lower School went almost mad with delight; and Fred Martin and Larry Cronk, the Belden boy, came almost to blows on the campus.
Neither of the Lower Schools had forgotten the hot potato fight on the island. Ere this, Bobby and his friends had completed their camp and had begun to furnish it, but they hoped the youngsters from Belden would learn nothing about the hideout.
One thing pleased Bobby and Fred immensely at Thanksgiving. A big box came to them from Clinton. In it were all sorts of good things made by Meena and Mrs. Martin, fall apples and pears picked by Michael Mulcahey, candy from Mr. Martin's store, and gifts from Fred's sisters and smaller brothers.
The Second Dormitory had a great feast after hours one night, of which even Captain Gray knew nothing. Bill Bronson and Jack Jinks got onto it, and the small boys had to bribe the two bullies with some of the choicest of their stores. Nevertheless, the midnight feast went off very smoothly.
There were a few more cases for the medical attendant to see to at Rockledge School after Thanksgiving than usual. The midnight feast coming so soon after the big Thanksgiving dinner, played havoc in the ranks of the smaller boys.
Pee Wee had what Bobby declared to be "internal, or civil war," and went to the hospital in Dr. Raymond's house for three days. He came out wan and interesting looking, declaring that he had lost pounds of flesh! But he proceeded to get his avoirdupois back again very promptly.
It was a full week before the school was back on its usual working basis – and the midwinter holidays only a month away. The teachers spurred the lazy scholars, and helped the dull ones, and out of this pushing in classes arose the trouble that became a very serious affair indeed for both Fred Martin and Bobby Blake.
Fred was not always bright in arithmetic. One morning he made a ridiculous blunder, and the whole class laughed at him. Mr. Carrin reprimanded Fred for his inattention, and as they filed out for recreation before dinner, Sparrow Bangs – named so because he had a whole cage-full of tame sparrows down at the gatekeeper's cottage – made fun of the red-haired boy.
Fred had been angered by the teacher's sharpness. Now he turned on Sparrow in a terrible passion.
"What's that you say? I'll give you a punch you'll remember."
"Aw, no you won't!" returned Sparrow. "And I'll say it again, Ginger! You've no time to play catch – you'll have to study the multiplication table, like Mr. Carrin said."
Fred rushed at the teasing lad, but Pee Wee and Howell Purdy came between them.
"Cheese it!" said the fat boy. "You two fellows want to get into trouble? Right under the schoolroom windows, too!"
"Well, he's got to stop nagging me," cried Fred, very red, and puffing very hard.
"Who are you, Ginger, that I should be so awfully careful of?" sneered Sparrow. "You're not so much!"
"I'll show you – "
"Stop it! stop it, Fred!" advised Bobby, catching his chum by the arm. "Come on, I want to throw you a few fast ones. We mustn't get out of practice, even if we can't play a regular game until next spring."
"There he goes!" cried Sparrow. "His boss takes him away. Great lad, that Ginger is. Afraid to say his soul's his own. Bobby Blake just bosses him around – "
It was all over, then! Fred flung off Bobby's hand and rushed at his tormentor. Smack! his fist shot into Sparrow's face.
Half a dozen of the boys then got between the antagonists.
"You want to get us all into trouble?" growled Mouser, one of those who held Fred Martin. "Cut it out. If you've got to fight, there's the 'bloody corner.' Do it right."
The chums had heard of "the bloody corner," but since their appearance at Rockledge School there had been no real pugilistic encounter between any of their mates.
Down in the far corner of the grounds – oh! a long way from the buildings – behind a tall hedge of hemlock, there had once been a toolshed. It had been removed and the corner was just a heap of soft sand. No matter how hard the frost was, this sand did not freeze.
And here, from time immemorial, had been arranged the school fights. Whether the good Doctor was aware that in this arena was fought out such feuds as could not be otherwise settled, nobody knew. Usually the fights were arranged by the older fellows, and the captain of the school was supposed to be present and see fair play.
It spoke well for Barrymore Gray that thus far under his régime, not a fight had occurred in "bloody corner."
The belligerents – Fred and Sparrow – were separated for the time, but as Bobby and his friend started to run to dinner when the big gong rang, Shiner stopped them.
"Hey, Ginger," said he. "Are you game to fight Sparrow?"
"I'm going to fight him," declared the red-haired boy, showing his teeth. "He can't get out of it."
"Oh! he's not trying to," said Shiner. "In fact, he told me to put it up to you. He wants to knock your head off."
"He'll have a fine time trying it," declared Fred, hotly. "I'll show him – "
"Aw, drop it!" begged Bobby. "You don't want to fight Sparrow – and he doesn't want to fight you."
"Better keep out of this, Bobby Blake," advised Shiner, importantly. "Sparrow says Fred's afraid, anyway – "
"I'll show him!" cried the maddened red-haired boy.
"Bluffing's all right," sneered Shiner. "But will you fight?"
"Give me a chance!"
"Aw-right. We'll put it up to the captain and you and Sparrow can get together down in the corner."
"With gloves? and have Barry Gray boss it? No, I won't," declared the pugnacious Fred. "Sparrow's trying to get out of it. I'll box him in the gym. But if he's got the pluck of a flea, he'll come down to the corner with his bare fists – and you and Bobby here are enough to see fair play."
"Whew!" whistled Shiner, his eyes dancing. "Do you mean it?"
"You'll find out that I do," threatened Fred, wagging his head.
"You sha'n't fight that way, Fred!" cried Bobby. "The School won't stand for it."
"You mean that bully, Barry Gray, won't stand for it. He always wants to boss."
"You game to see them through, Bobby?" demanded Shiner.
"If you don't want to come with me, I'll get Pee Wee," growled Fred.
"No," said Bobby, in great trouble. "If you mean to fight Sparrow, of course I'm going to stand by you."
"And keep your mouth shut about it?" snapped Shiner.
"Bobby's no snitch," exclaimed Fred, hotly. "If we're caught, it won't be because either Bobby or I tell."
"Nuff said," declared Shiner, shortly. "I'll see Sparrow again and put it up to him. We'll find a time when nobody else will be around. Be ready," and Shiner went off whistling, evidently feeling his importance in the matter.
Bobby felt pretty badly. He did not want to see Fred fight at all. And he certainly did not want him to meet Sparrow Bangs in this way. A sparring match was one thing, but a fist fight, deliberately arranged, and held in secret, was an entirely different matter.
"You can't do it!" he said to Fred, greatly disturbed. "Dr. Raymond might send you home."
"I don't care if I'm sent home twice!" exclaimed the hotheaded Fred. "I am going to thrash that fellow, or he'll thrash me."
Bobby wanted to shake Fred – he could have hit his chum himself! And yet – he couldn't desert him. They had come here to this school, strangers. They had agreed to stand by each other, through thick and thin – of course without a word being said about it! Boys do not talk about their friendships like girls.
If Fred were wrong, Bobby could be angry with him, but he could not desert him. If his chum intended to fight Sparrow Bangs in this disgraceful way, Bobby would "second" him – of course he would!
If Dr. Raymond should hear of it and suspend them both from school, it could not be helped. He knew very well that he was running a risk of losing all chance for the Medal of Honor; yet he would stick to his chum.
He was unhappy that night – very, very unhappy. Fred and he said little when they were alone. Shiner came to him and whispered, at bedtime, that there would be a chance to "pull off" the fight the next noontime after dinner. They could cut the mid-day study hour to do it, without being caught.
Beyond his determination to stand by Fred, right or wrong, Bobby wanted his chum – as long as he would fight – to win! He advised him in the morning:
"Now, Fred, eat a good breakfast – a big breakfast. But you're going to go light on dinner."
"I know," grunted the red-haired one.
"Don't drink much water at dinner time, either. If you think you'll be tempted too much, keep out of the dining-room."
"No," growled Fred. "They'll think I'm afraid."
"All right. But eat lightly," urged Bobby.
For once something was going on in the Lower School that the whole crowd of boys was not "on to." Shiner and Sparrow had been as mum as Fred and Bobby.
The two combatants did not even scowl at each other; they kept apart. They did not want any of the other boys to suspect.
Howell Purdy asked Bobby if "Ginger wasn't going to knock Sparrow's head off?" and Bobby dodged the question adroitly.
It seemed to Bobby as though that forenoon would never come to an end. At half past eleven the Lower School was let out. Bobby took Fred into the gymnasium and they put on the gloves together for a little practice.
With the experience they had had before, and the instruction of the Rockledge athletic teacher, for boys of their size, Bobby and Fred were quite proficient in the so-called manly art.
Sparring, as a game like baseball or tennis, is splendid exercise and good training for mind and temper. It may, or may not, lead to fisticuffs among boys. Certainly boys who spar together in a gymnasium are much less likely to have rude fights as the outgrowth of sudden temper. They respect each other's prowess too much.
Fred was careful at dinner. As soon as they could, he and Bobby slipped out, and made their way to the distant corner, and by a roundabout way so that they could not be seen. Five minutes later Sparrow and Jimmy Ailshine appeared.
