The Putnam Hall Rivals

“What report?” asked Baxter, suspiciously.

“You know, Baxter.”

“I must say I do not.”

“About that race on the ice, and all that,” said Hogan. “It’s a queer tale, so it is! Didn’t yez hear all about it at Cedarville?”

“I haven’t heard anything.”

“Neither have I,” put in Ritter.

“I guess Coulter knows about it,” went on Dale. “He usually knows everything. Did you see the horse?” he demanded.

“The horse?” asked Gus Coulter, puzzled. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“That horse they brought into the school.”

“I didn’t see any horse.”

“Certainly he was a beauty,” said Hogan, with a broad laugh. “All painted with that red paint, too. Where did that paint come from, answer me that now?” he demanded, in a whisper.

“I don’t know anything about a horse or any red paint either,” growled Dan Baxter. “Is this a joke?”

“Listen to that!” cried Dale. “Say, you can put on a good front, can’t you?”

“It’s true.”

“Maybe you don’t know about that ghost business either,” came from Hogan. “Very innocent, so ye are, I must say!” And he winked with his left eye in a most mysterious manner.

“See here, you are talking Greek to me!” roared Baxter. He was anxious to get away. “If you can’t explain I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Emerald, perhaps they don’t know after all,” whispered Dale, but in such a manner that the bully and his friends could hear.

“Be gorry, I hope we haven’t put our foot into it thin!” muttered the Irish cadet. He walked up to Reff Ritter. “Say, forget it!”

“Forget what?” demanded Ritter.

“All I was after telling you.”

“You’ve told me nothing yet.”

“Is that so now? Then so much the better.”

“Oh, you’re trying to fool us!” burst out Dan Baxter. “I don’t want to listen to another word,” and he turned away, and his friends followed him. Dale and Hogan waited a minute and then went back to the Hall, so that the bully and his cronies might not get too suspicious.

“We held ’em up ten minutes,” said Dale. “I hope that helped Pepper and the others out.”

In the meantime Pepper, Andy, and Jack left the Hall by a roundabout way and hurried along the road leading to the Shepard farm. It was quite dark and rather cold, although there was but little wind.

“I see a carriage coming!” exclaimed Jack, presently. “Step back of the bushes and see who is driving it.”

The others complied, and soon the carriage came up. On the seat driving was Amos Shepard, and at his feet rested a big square basket.

“There he goes,” exclaimed Pepper, when the farmer had passed. “Let us follow him.”

It was an easy matter to follow the carriage, for the road was rocky and the farmer had to drive slowly. Coming to a turn, the man in the carriage dismounted and placed the big basket in a crotch of a tree. Then he went on his way to Cedarville.

“Quick – there is no time to lose!” exclaimed Pepper. “Dan Baxter may come for this basket at any minute.”

They soon had the basket out of the crotch of the tree and examined the contents. There were the stuffed turkey, nicely cooked, some fresh biscuit, two pies, some apples, a jug of cider, and some other things.

“We’ll appropriate a pie and some biscuits and apples, and likewise a bit of the turkey,” said Andy.

“Be careful,” warned Jack. “If you muss the turkey up Baxter will suspect something.”

“I’ll fix that easily enough,” came from the resourceful Pepper.

Having taken what they wanted, the boys proceeded to “season” what remained with the pepper and with some lard and vinegar Andy had procured on the sly from the academy kitchen. They had brought some napkins with them, and in these placed what they had appropriated. Then Pepper calmly proceeded to break down one of the tree limbs.

“What are you doing that for?” asked Jack.

“I’ll show you,” said Pepper, calmly, and under the broken-down limb he placed the basket, resting on its side. “How is that?”

“First-rate!” laughed Jack.

“Looks exactly as if the basket had been on the limb and it had broken and spilt the stuff,” said Andy.

“Now we’ll get out of sight and watch,” went on the Imp.

They ran out of sight and waited. Not five minutes later Dan Baxter, Coulter, and Ritter hove into sight.

“Here is the spot, fellows,” they heard the bully of the Hall exclaim. “Anybody around?”

“I don’t see anybody,” answered Ritter.

“Where’s the basket?” asked Coulter, gazing up into the tree.

“Here it is, on the ground,” said Baxter. “Too bad, it’s tumbled over.”

“The limb broke down with it, it was so heavy,” said Reff Ritter.

Baxter got down and struck a match.

“The stuff is pretty well tumbled around,” said he. “And, say – some of the turkey is gone!” he added.

“Maybe some animal came up and took it,” suggested Coulter. “I thought I saw a dog on the road.”

“I am not going to eat after a dog,” said Ritter.

“Oh, I reckon it’s all right,” said Baxter, hastily. He did not want anything to occur to spoil the grandness of his proposed spread. To his cronies he had boasted that this was to be the finest spread ever given on the sly at Putnam Hall.

Taking up the basket, the bully rearranged the things. He noticed that there was not as much as he had ordered, and made up his mind to “pitch into” Amos Shepard when next they should meet. He and Coulter carried the basket and Ritter the jug of cider, and off they went to the Hall, entering unobserved by a back way, and sneaking to their dormitory, where the goodies were hidden in a clothes closet.

“Oh, wait till to-night!” said Pepper, as he and his chums also returned.

The evening seemed to drag after that, so many were waiting for bedtime to come. Baxter tried to learn from Dale what the talk earlier in the evening had meant, but got no satisfaction.

All of the boys of the bully’s dormitory had been invited to the feast and also some other cadets, making a total of sixteen lads who were to participate. They were all followers of Dan Baxter, and but few of them were liked by the other cadets.

At last it was time to go to bed, and one after another the boys went off. Our friends undressed and then slipped on some warm coats over their night garments. Soon the monitors came around to see that everything was as it should be for the night.

“Now is our time,” whispered Pepper. “Baxter’s crowd will be stirring soon.”

With caution they left their dormitory and stole along the hallway. As luck would have it, there was a room next to the Baxter dormitory that was vacant, the plaster having fallen and being not yet repaired. The door was unlocked and our friends entered.

“Listen,” said Pepper, as they all came close to a door which communicated with the next dormitory.

“Now, fellows, we’ll have the finest feast you ever saw at any school,” they heard Dan Baxter say. “I’ll carve the turkey and you, Coulter, can cut the cake, and Mumps can pour out the cider. After the cider we’ll have something a little stronger.”

“I don’t think they have anything hotter than that cider,” murmured Pepper.

Those outside of the room heard the bully and his cronies make numerous preparations for the feast. Then the stuff was passed around and all prepared to do full justice to what was handed to them.

“That is all right,” exclaimed Reff Ritter, as he bit into a turkey sandwich. “Say, wouldn’t it make Jack Ruddy and his crowd feel sore to know about these good things we are having!”

“Say, this sandwich is pretty warm,” came from Paxton. “Phew! but it’s hot!”

“Why, it’s cold, Nick,” answered the bully of the Hall.

“Is it? Not much! It’s full of pepper.”

“Ouch!” came from Mumps. “Oh, my tooth!”

“What’s the matter with it?” asked Coulter.

“I’ve bitten on something hard. Guess it was a stone.”

“Creation, what’s this?” came from Ritter. “Say, Dan, this smells like vinegar.”

Another boy was drinking some cider. He made a wry face and ejected the liquid from his mouth.

“That’s the worst cider I ever tasted!”

“Let me see!” cried Dan Baxter, and caught up a glassful. He took one swallow and began to breathe heavily.

“It’s – it’s – pep – peppery!” he gasped. “Oh, my insides are burning up! Somebody give me some water.”

“Whow! The cake is peppery, too!” came from another.

“And full of sand!”

“This piece of celery has got lard all over it!”

“This is the worst sandwich I ever tried to eat!”

“This apple is full of vinegar!”

“So is this currant jelly!”

“Say, fellows, somebody has played a trick on us!”

“Don’t eat any more of the stuff. It may be poisoned!”

“Oh, don’t say that!” groaned Mumps, turning pale. “I – I don’t want to be poisoned!”

“Who – who touched this stuff?” gasped Dan Baxter. He was so angry he could hardly speak.

No one could answer the question.

“If I ever find out who did it, I’ll – I’ll skin ’em alive, that’s what I’ll do!”

“One thing is certain,” said Reff Ritter, in deep disgust. “All of the stuff was fixed up, and there will be no feast to-night, that is sure. I wouldn’t touch another mouthful for a thousand dollars.”

“I am going to find out who did this,” said Baxter, starting up. “And I am going to find out to-night!”

CHAPTER VII

IN THE CLASSROOM

“It’s time for us to get out!” whispered Jack to his chums. “Baxter is going on a rampage!”

“To our dormitory!” whispered Andy, and led the way on tiptoes. The others followed, and in less than a minute they were safe in their room with the door tightly closed.

“Perhaps we had better get into bed for the present,” suggested Stuffer Singleton. “Baxter may come this way.”

This was considered good advice, and it did not take them long to put out the light that had been lit and get into bed. With ears on the alert they awaited developments.

They were not long in coming. Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and then they heard some whispered conversation in front of their door. Pepper wanted to laugh outright and had all he could do to hold in.

“I don’t hear them,” came softly in Dan Baxter’s voice.

“They are foxy,” answered Ritter.

The door was tried and Dan Baxter looked into the room. He could see next to nothing in the almost total darkness.

“Who – who’s there?” asked Andy, sleepily. “Is it time to – to get up?”

A grunt from Dan Baxter was the only response, and then the door was closed again, and they heard Baxter and some others moving away.

“Say, Andy, that was rich!” whispered Pepper, and gave a low laugh.

“Don’t stir too much yet,” cautioned Jack. “They may come back.”

“I am going to the door to watch,” answered Pepper. “If they come this way again I can crawl back to bed in a jiffy.”

Standing at the door, which he held on a crack, the Imp saw Baxter and several others move from one dormitory to another, listening and spying at every door.

“Cheese it, here comes Mr. Strong!” he heard Coulter say, a short while later, and off the bully’s crowd scampered to their rooms. Then the second assistant teacher came up the stairs and Pepper hurried back to his bed. George Strong looked around the hallway and walked to several dormitories, and then passed on to the third floor of the building.

“Will they come back again?” asked Andy, after a long spell of silence.

“Better wait a while longer and see,” said Hogan.

“I’m itching to get at that stuff,” came, with a sigh, from Stuffer.

“Did you ever know a time that you wasn’t hungry, Stuffer?” asked Andy.

“Humph! I guess you’ll get away with your full share, Andy,” was the retort.

At last the boys considered themselves safe and crawled from their beds once more. A dim light was made, and sitting in a circle, they divided the good things on hand and devoured them with a keen relish. The turkey proved to be of the best, and the pie was “prime,” as Andy expressed it.

“Oh, if Baxter could only see us now,” whispered Pepper, with a mouth half full of turkey.

“It would make him dance with joy, I don’t think,” answered Jack.

The little feast kept up the best part of half an hour.

“Here goes the last of the pie!” cried Stuffer.

“Baxter, we thank thee for this feast!” added Pepper.

“Come again,” put in Jack.

“Just you fellows wait, that’s all!” came an unexpected voice from the doorway, and turning swiftly, they saw Dan Baxter standing there. He was shaking his fist at the crowd.

“Hullo!” gasped Pepper. For the instant he could say no more.

“I suspected it from the start,” fairly hissed the bully of Putnam Hall. “Just wait, that’s all! If I don’t square up you can shoot me!” And away he went, giving the door the hardest kind of a bang after him.

“Now our cake is dough,” came from Stuffer.

“Sure an’ I’d like to know what he’ll be after doin’,” came curiously from Emerald.

“I wonder if he’ll have the nerve to call Captain Putnam?” mused Andy.

“No,” answered Jack, promptly. “He won’t report this, for if he did he knows we would tell on him too. He’ll try to get square some other way.”

“To bed, all of you!” cried Pepper. “Don’t forget how he slammed that door. Some of the teachers may be along before we know it.”

The remains of the feast were cleared away and the room put in order. Then the cadets went to sleep, and slumbered soundly until the bell awoke them in the morning.

It was not until the boys entered the mess-hall that they saw Dan Baxter again. The bully of the school looked like a thundercloud, and so did Reff Ritter, Coulter, and Paxton.

“They have it in for us, that is dead certain,” whispered Andy to Pepper.

“Yes, we’ll have to keep our eyes peeled for them,” was the reply.

“Ditmore, stop your talking!” came sternly from Josiah Crabtree.

“Yes, sir,” answered the Imp, meekly.

“You talk altogether too much at meals,” went on the sour-looking teacher.

“Yes, sir.”

“Silence!”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you say another word I’ll send you from the table,” stormed Josiah Crabtree, and after that Pepper said no more.

That morning everything seemed to go wrong in the classroom. Many lessons were missed and several teachers were out of humor. Josiah Crabtree stormed around, and finally told both Pepper and Jack that they would have to stay in after school in the afternoon.

“Mr. Crabtree, I do not think I am to blame in this,” said Jack. “I understood you to say we were to take up pages 180 and 181 in the history only.”

“I said 180 to 184,” snapped the teacher.

“He did not,” murmured Pepper under his breath.

“You are growing very negligent in your studies,” went on the teacher, tartly. “I shall not stand for it.”

“Then sit down,” grumbled Andy.

“Snow, did you speak?” thundered Crabtree.

Andy was silent.

“Snow, answer me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you may remain in after school also.”

“Thank you for nothing,” growled Andy, but this time under his breath.

“I am going to fix old Crabby,” said Pepper, during recess. “I think it is a shame to keep us in – with the last of the skating at hand.”

Pepper’s opportunity to torment the teacher came sooner than expected. That afternoon Josiah Crabtree had to leave the classroom for several minutes. At noon the Imp had secured some flour in a paper bag. He passed up to the platform, and on the sly placed the bag of flour in the teacher’s desk, turning it upside down, with the bottom fastened by a slit in the paper to the lock part of the desk lid.

“We will now take up our next study,” said Josiah Crabtree, a little later. He looked around for a lead pencil, but could find none. Then he walked to his desk, sat down, and started to raise the lid.

The lid did not work very easily, and he gave it a nervous jerk. Up it came, and as it did so, the flour shot down out of the bag, into the desk and over the teacher’s lap. Some arose in a cloud, covering Crabtree’s face and neck.

“Wooh!” spluttered the teacher, leaping back. “Wh – what is this? Who – er – who – wooh! – played this trick on me!”

He was covered from head to foot with the flour, which got into his eyes and nose and caused him to sneeze loudly. His appearance was so comical all of the students set up a very loud roar.

“Silence! silence! I will have silence!” roared the teacher, wrathfully. Then he had to sneeze some more, and the classroom burst into another roar.

“Crabtree has turned miller!” whispered Stuffer.

“Doesn’t he make a fine-looking statue?” came from Dale.

“Boys! boys! be quiet!” stormed Josiah Crabtree. “This is – ker-chew! outrageous! I demand to know who – ker-chew – ker-chew!”

“Anybody ker-chew around here?” asked Pepper, calmly.

“Who did this?” fairly yelled the teacher. “Who did it, I say?”

“The flour,” whispered Jack, and this made some of the boys snicker.

“Ruddy, what did you say?” demanded Josiah Crabtree.

“I said the flour did it,” answered Jack.

“Really! you are a monument of wisdom,” said the teacher, sarcastically. “You may remain after school.”

The teacher shut up the flour-covered desk and brushed himself off with a whisk-broom.

“The whole class may stay in after school,” he thundered, a moment later.

“I didn’t do that, Mr. Crabtree,” whined Gus Coulter.

“Then who did?”

“I – er – ” Coulter glanced at Pepper, who quickly doubled up his fist. “I – er – I don’t know.”

“All stay in – for one full hour,” snapped the angry teacher, and then went on with the studies.

“We ought to tell on Ditmore,” whispered Ritter, to Dan Baxter.

“Never mind – that crowd will catch it tomorrow,” answered the bully of the Hall.

“It was too rich for anything,” said Andy to Pepper, when they were out of school at last. “My, but old Crabby was mad!”

“Coulter wanted to tell on me, but he didn’t dare.”

“He respects your fist, that’s why,” put in Dale.

“Those chaps have something up their sleeve,” said Jack, with a grave shake of his head. “Everybody keep on the watch, is my advice.”

“We’ll watch ’em,” answered Pepper. But the watch was not close enough, as later events proved.

CHAPTER VIII

THE BOATHOUSE FIRE

On the following evening Pepper was getting ready to go to bed when, on passing through the hallway, a folded sheet of paper dropped upon his head:

“Hullo, what’s this?” he murmured and looked up to the floor above, but could see nobody. He unfolded the sheet and read the following:

“To Pepper Ditmore and Jack Ruddy: Go down to the old, disused boathouse at once if you want to hear something to your advantage.

“A Friend.”

“This is certainly queer,” said the Imp to himself. “I wonder who wrote it?”

He sought out the young major and showed him the communication. Jack read it with care. It was written in a loose and evidently a disguised hand.

“Maybe it is some sort of a trick – to get us to the old boathouse, Pep,” said Jack, after a moment’s thought.

“Don’t you think it best to go?”

“Oh, yes, we can go. If it is one of Baxter’s tricks I’ll show him I am not afraid of him.”

“Shall we take the others along?”

“This note is for you and me only. Are you afraid?”

“Not a bit.”

“Then come on – we have just time enough,” said the young major, glancing at a clock on the wall.

Slipping on their overcoats and donning their caps, they ran to a side door of the building. They were soon out into the night without anybody seeing them depart but the boy upstairs who had dropped the note. He chuckled to himself and then ran to a window at the end of the long hallway.

“Something will be doing pretty soon now,” he said to himself, as he made a signal from the window.

All unconscious of the trap that had been set for them, Jack and Pepper hurried towards the old, disused boathouse. It was a dark night, with a suggestion of either rain or snow in the air.

“Go slow,” whispered Jack, as they came close to the building. “We don’t want to run into any trouble.”

They soon found themselves at the side of the building. All was dark, so far as they could see.

“I don’t see anybody,” whispered Pepper.

“Let us go inside – just to show somebody that we are not afraid,” suggested his chum.

They pushed open the door. A strong smell of cigarette smoke greeted them. Then Pepper stepped on an empty bottle and almost fell flat.

“That smoking and drinking crowd has been here again,” said the fun-loving youth.

“Look! look!” ejaculated Jack, pointing to a corner of the boathouse.

Pepper gazed in the direction and gave a gasp. And well he might, for as if by magic there came a spurt of flame, and some dead leaves and dry wood caught on the instant.

“Hi! what does that mean?” called out Jack. “Take care, or you’ll set this place on fire!”

No answer came back. The spurts of flame increased, and in a twinkling the old boathouse was on fire in half a dozen places!

“Jack, we must get out of here!” exclaimed Pepper. “I don’t like this at all!”

“Neither do I. Come on!”

They turned, to find the door shut behind them. They tried it.

“Something is against it!” ejaculated the young major. “We are shut in!”

“Push!” was the answer, and both pushed with all of their might. The door gave way some, but not enough.

“Again!” said Jack, and now they shoved as never before. In the meantime the flames were increasing with marvelous rapidity.

“We must get out, or we’ll be burnt up!” said Pepper, and a final attack was made on the door, and it went back, showing that a heavy timber had been placed against it.

“They are out!” they heard somebody cry, and then they saw three forms sneaking around to the back of the school building.

“Fire! fire! fire!” was the cry from Putnam Hall, and from the school poured some students and several teachers, including George Strong.

“It’s the old boathouse,” said George Strong. “I wonder how it caught?”

“Ha! here come Ruddy and Ditmore!” exclaimed Josiah Crabtree. “They have been down there!”

“Fire! fire!” yelled Pepper and Jack. “The old boathouse is burning up!”

The alarm was soon a general one, and it was not long before Captain Putnam appeared upon the scene.

“I am afraid the old building is doomed,” said the master of Putnam Hall. He was the calmest man present. “The Hall hose will not reach to this spot. We can try our buckets, though.”

Some weeks before the boys had formed a bucket brigade, as it is termed, and they had the drill down to perfection. At the word from Captain Putnam they ran for their buckets and formed a line from the barn to the burning building. At the barn there was a big tub of water, and this was kept filled by some, while others passed along the buckets. Thus an almost steady stream of water was poured on the growing fire.

“I say, let us use snowballs!” cried one cadet, who was not in the bucket line, and in a twinkling the snowballs began to fly.

“We are going to get the best of that fire yet,” said Dale, passing the buckets to George Strong, who was throwing the water on the conflagration.

“It looks so,” answered the teacher.

It soon began to snow. The flakes were thick and wet, and this put an additional damper on the fire. Presently the flames died down and ten minutes later the last spark was extinguished; and the excitement came practically to an end.

Everybody wanted to know how the fire had started. It soon became noised around that Jack and Pepper had been seen coming from the burning building.

“What have you to say to this, Major Ruddy?” asked Captain Putnam, in rather a stern voice.

Jack knew not what to say. He looked at Pepper.

“Come, answer me,” went on the master of the academy.

“We – er – we went out to see if we could find some other boys,” said Jack.

“We got a note,” put in Pepper. He placed his hand in his pocket and drew out the folded sheet of paper. “We – well, I declare!”

“What is it, Ditmore?”

Pepper did not answer, for he was staring at the sheet. It was almost blank, only a few traces of letters remaining on it!

“Ditmore, answer me!” came from Captain Putnam, and now his voice was more stern than ever.

“Why, I – er – look at that!” and he held out the sheet.

The captain glanced at the paper.

“I see nothing but paper.”

“Yes, but it – er – it had something written on it awhile ago,” stammered Pepper.