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Bobby Blake at Rockledge School: or, Winning the Medal of Honor
Then suddenly there came a shriek from some boy left on the other side of the island as a sentinel. He came flying, yelling his distress.
"Into the boats, boys!" Fred Martin commanded. "Bobby's got them."
They pushed off the two remaining boats and jumped in. At that moment the absent Rockledge boat appeared around the end of the island, and strung behind it, in one, two, three, four order were the boats belonging to the Belden boys. The latter were marooned.
"We've beaten them this time!" yelled Howell Purdy, with delight.
"You bet!" agreed Pee Wee. "We've been more'n a year getting them fixed just right. 'Member, Ginger, I told you and Bobby how those Bedlamites stole all our boats once? How about it now?"
There was great hilarity indeed. The boys from Rockledge manned the Belden boats and the whole flotilla pulled toward the south shore. At this place the lake was quite five miles wide and the island was in the middle. So the pull was quite arduous.
Besides, the wind had come up and there was a threatening black cloud mounting the sky. Soon thunder began to mutter in the distance, and the lightning tinged the lower edge of this cloud.
The first heavy thunder shower of the season was approaching.
As they rowed to the mainland, the Rockledge boys could see their enemies standing disconsolately on the shore, and wistfully looking after their boats.
"They'll get a nice soaking," declared Shiner. "Oh! maybe I'm not glad!"
"So am I," said Fred. "And we'll hide these boats – eh?"
"Sure," agreed Sparrow Bangs. "I know a dandy place right down at the edge of Monckton's farm. They wouldn't find them in a week of Sundays in the mouth of that creek."
The rain had begun to fall before the boys reached the shore. It was a lashing, dashing rain, with plenty of thunder and the sharpest kind of lightning. Several of the Rockledge boys were afraid of thunder and lightning, but they all took shelter in an old tobacco barn – the farmers of the Connecticut Valley raise a certain quality of tobacco.
For an hour the storm continued. Then the thunder died away, and the rain ceased. By that time it was almost dark, and the boys stood a good chance of being belated for supper.
They hid the stolen boats and went home in their own. As they rowed steadily down the edge of the lake, they looked out across the darkening water to the island, and did not see a spark of light there.
"Maybe they haven't a match," said Bobby, suddenly, after a little silence.
"I should hope not!" snapped Fred.
"Anyway, there's no dry wood after this rain," said his chum.
"Good!" repeated the red-haired one.
"They're going to have a mighty bad time," ruminated Bobby. Fred only grunted, and Bobby fell silent.
Just the same, there was a troublesome thought in Bobby Blake's mind. He had little to say after they got to the school, and remained silent all through supper.
The boys had changed their clothes. The clouds had blown away and it was a starlit evening. They had their choice of playing outside for a while, or going to the big study until retiring hour.
"I say," said Shiner, going about quickly among the Second Dormitory lads, "Bobby wants us all in the gym. Something doing."
Jimmy Ailshine was a good Mercury. He got most of the boys who had been to the island together, in five minutes.
Bobby looked dreadfully serious; Fred was scowling; Sparrow looked as though he did not know whether to laugh, or not.
"Go on, Bobby!" advised Pee Wee, yawning. "What's doing!"
"I'll tell you," shot in Bobby, without a moment's hesitation. "We've done an awfully mean thing, and we've got to undo it."
"What's that?" demanded Howell Purdy, in amazement.
"What we did to those Bedlamites," said Bobby, firmly. "We mustn't let them stay there all night. Some of us have got to take their boats back so that they can get ashore."
CHAPTER XXIII
GOOD NEWS TRAVELS SLOWLY
The crowd of scatterbrained youngsters were smitten speechless for the moment. They stared at Bobby Blake, and then looked at each other curiously. Pee Wee was the first to find his voice.
"Aw, cheese it, Bobby!" he drawled. "You're kidding us."
"No. We've done a mean thing. We'll get them into trouble over to their school – "
"Good enough!" cried Howell Purdy, in delight.
"And maybe we'll get into trouble because of it, too," went on Bobby, seriously. "But whether we do, or we don't, we oughtn't to leave those fellows over there on the island all night. It's a mean trick."
"Say! haven't they played many a mean trick on us?" demanded Pee Wee, excitedly.
"That has nothing to do with it," said Bobby, still seriously. "It's cold and wet on that island. Maybe they are all soaking wet from the rain-storm. Suppose they should get cold – all of them – some of them – only one of them?"
This was rather a grave way to put it. Bobby was not much more thoughtful than other boys of his age – and he not eleven; but the thing had gripped him hard.
"I tell you," he said, quietly, "if none of you will go back with me, I'll go alone."
"Shucks!" exclaimed Pee Wee, "you couldn't row up there alone, Bobby Blake, let alone tugging those four boats after you."
"Well! and he doesn't have to – see?" snapped Fred Martin, dragging on his cap over his red hair. "I guess two of us can do something." He grinned rather sheepishly at Bobby.
"Three," said Sparrow Bangs, briefly.
"Me, too," said the Mouser. "You can stay home, if you want to, Pee Wee. I'm going."
"Oh – very well!" groaned the fat boy. "You can count me in."
"And me! And me!" cried several.
In the end there were two boats full of volunteers who left the Rockledge boathouse, known only to the man who had charge of it, and rowed up to Monckton's farm. There they dragged the four Belden boats out of the mud, and towed them across to the island.
It was pretty dark, for there was no moon. The marooned youngsters heard them coming and began to shout, believing that it was a rescue party from their own school.
Bobby and Fred stood up and yelled to them to come down to the shore for their boats. There was a good deal of bandying talk, and the two sets of boys said some sharp things to each other, but they separated without a fight.
"They'll tell, of course, and the Old Doctor will make an investigation," said Fred, as they pulled for home.
"Sure!" groaned Shiner.
"But it won't be so bad for us as it would have been if we'd left them there for their own folks to find, and kept their boats hid," Pee Wee observed, with more thoughtfulness than he usually showed.
"And the Belden boys will be a deal more comfortable, eh?" chuckled Bobby.
There was an investigation. The Doctor conducted it himself. He went "back to the year one," as Barry Gray said, and considered all the causes of the rivalry between the two schools, and what each had done to the other.
The hot potato fight was taken into consideration, as well as the fact that the Belden schoolboys had once stolen every boat the Rockledge boys possessed, and hidden them for a week.
Then he rendered his decision: No party of boys without a teacher was to go to any of the islands. None of the boys were to venture across the lake to the Belden shore.
These decisions were repeated by the head of the Belden School, and from that time on there was less friction between the two institutions.
But, meanwhile, Dr. Raymond had heard all about Bobby Blake's action in the matter of the return of the boats to the marooned boys. He said nothing to Bobby about it, but he talked with his assistants.
This, too, made Bobby more popular with his mates. It had been the right thing to do, and, after all, boys respect a boy who is willing to do the right thing, even if it may make him unpopular for the time being.
The popularity that Bobby was winning at Rockledge School, however, was of a lasting kind. If Bobby said a thing, he meant it. If he made a promise, he stuck to it. He was no shirk, and no "goody-goody," and it began to be whispered around (goodness only knows how the story started) that Bobby might have a chance for the Medal of Honor if it was not for "Old Leith."
"What's Leith got it in for him for?" demanded the hot-headed Fred Martin. "What's Bobby ever done to him?"
"Something about Bobby's not giving away a fight," said Pee Wee, who had got the news pretty straight from a waitress, who had heard Mr. Leith and Mr. Carrin talking about it.
"Aw, get out!" muttered Fred, rather abashed. He suddenly remembered the fight he had started with Sparrow.
"Never was a Lower School boy yet that won the medal," said How Purdy.
"But we'd all pull for him – wouldn't we?" demanded Mouser. "I like Bob all right."
"I do, too," said Skeets Brody. "He was the only fellow that would stay in and play checkers with me, when I had the sore throat."
"He's done a lot of things for me," admitted Howell. "I haven't forgotten them."
"Well!" sighed Pee Wee. "I couldn't count the times Bobby's given me his pudding at supper."
"I guess we all like him," Sparrow said. "He's square as he can be. Old Leith hasn't anything against him, I don't believe. It's just his meanness."
"No," said Pee Wee. "It's because Bobby wouldn't tell on somebody. I put it up to Bobby myself, and he got mad and told me to mind my eye," and the fat boy grinned.
"Well! it gets me," said Shiner. "There haven't been many fights this year that Bobby could have been in. And he's not quarrelsome."
Fred said nothing. He was thinking hard, and from the expression on his face, it was apparent that his thoughts were not of a pleasant nature.
Bobby Blake certainly would have been surprised, had he known how his mates were talking about him. He went on his usual course now-a-days without much thought for the Medal of Honor.
Only, he did his best. For his absent mother's and father's sake, he did his best.
Where were they? The question was with him always. Deadened somewhat by time, the pain of his loss smarted just the same. He seldom mentioned the mystery, even to Fred. Nevertheless, there was at least one time in every day when he remembered it.
He was as earnest in his prayers at night for his parents' safety as ever he had been. He believed that some time he should hear good news.
It is famous that bad news travels quickly, while good news has leaden feet. It was so in this case.
The spring advanced. Mr. and Mrs. Blake had sailed from New York early in September, and nine months had nearly gone since then. The discovery of burned wreckage from the ship on which they had sailed was all the news that had ever come back to the United States regarding it.
There arrived in the port of Baltimore one day a bluff-bowed, frowsy-looking old two-stick schooner, with a tarnished figure-head under her patched bowsprit, dirty sails, and a bottom undoubtedly thick with barnacles.
She was the Ethelina, and she loafed into her dock as though she had never hurried within the knowledge of her owners. One of her owners stood upon her deck and gave orders – Captain Adoniram Speed.
His crew was partly made up of South American half-breeds, and the bulk of the crew of the steamship on which the Blakes had sailed, so long before, from New York.
The captain brought letters for various people from a trading station far up a tributary of the Amazon. Had not a sharp reporter, nosing about for news on the Baltimore docks, gotten into conversation with Captain Speed, it is likely that the newspapers would never have obtained the full story of the loss of the steamship in question.
She had burned only a few hundred miles off the mouth of the Amazon. It was rough weather at the time and two of the boats' crews and most of the passengers had lost their lives before the Ethelina came loafing along and had taken the remainder of the survivors aboard.
The Ethelina was bound for an up-river station. She had no reason for touching at Para or any other big city of Brazil. She kept right on her course, and her course chanced to be the route to be followed by Mr. and Mrs. Blake, who were among the few passengers rescued.
The old hooker sailed up the Amazon, and several hundred miles up the tributary on which was situated the town of Samratam, which was the Blakes' goal.
The Blakes left letters for the captain of the Ethelina to bring back to civilization. Captain Speed had not considered it necessary to hurry these letters along.
He had waited to bring them himself, to mail at Baltimore. Good news surely had traveled slowly in this case. Almost at the time the old schooner was being warped into her dock at Baltimore, Mr. and Mrs. Blake, in good health, expected to leave Samratam for the United States!
The letters came in good time to Clinton, and to Rockledge School. Dr. Raymond sat before his great, flat-topped desk one warm May morning staring at a letter written on thin notepaper, with a packet of similar letters, wrapped in an oiled-paper wrapper, before him on the desk.
Somehow his spectacles were clouded, and he had to take them off and wipe them twice before he could finish reading the business-like lines.
The second time he wiped the glasses and set them astride his big nose, he saw a small figure standing in the open doorway.
"Ha! Robert!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, sir."
"I sent for you, Robert," said the master of Rockledge School, in a very gruff voice – gruffer than usual, in fact.
"Yes, sir?" returned Bobby, timidly.
In spite of everything, he could not help being more than a little frightened of Dr. Raymond. He was so big, and he was so gruff when he spoke, and he had such searching eyes – usually – when he looked at one.
But stop! There was something entirely different about Dr. Raymond's eyes on this occasion. If Bobby Blake had not known that it was impossible, he would have believed that there were tears in the Doctor's eyes.
"Robert," the gentleman said, finally, seeming to have some difficulty in getting his words out. "Robert, did you ever hear the old saying that 'no news is good news'?"
Bobby had no answer. His lips opened. He really thought he said "Yes, sir." But there was such a roaring in his ears, and his heart suddenly pounded so hard, that he could scarcely hear.
The furniture began to go around him in a sort of stately dance – and the good doctor went with the furniture! It was very curious. Bobby tried to rub his eyes free of the water that welled up, with his coat sleeves.
"Yes, Robert; 'no news is good news.' We haven't heard for months from those whom we wished to hear from. But always I have told you to keep up heart – "
Bobby could stand no more. He flung himself forward, around the corner of the great desk. He grabbed at the Doctor's coatsleeve before he could swim away from him again.
"My mother! my father! You've heard – ?"
"They're all right, Robert! they're all right!" exclaimed the Doctor – and did his voice break strangely as he said it? "There, there, my boy! They're safe as can be and here's a whole packet of letters for you from them. Don't cry, my boy – "
But Bobby wasn't crying. It seemed to him that he never should cry again.
"Tell me!" he gasped, still clinging to the Doctor's arm. "Did – did she get her feet wet? Or is she all right? She didn't get the – the bron-skeeters, did she? Father was always afraid of that, if she got cold."
CHAPTER XXIV
RED HAIR STANDS FOR MORE THAN TEMPER
June had come. The regatta on Monatook Lake was but a few days away; Commencement followed. Even the boys of the Lower School were working hard to make up lost lessons these days.
Captain Gray was to graduate, and with him Max Bender and five of the other big boys. There would be at least seven new scholars to come to Rockledge the next September, for there were never less than fifty boys at the school and – as has been said – Dr. Raymond always had a waiting list.
Mr. Leith devoted most of his time to the older boys; but every fortnight, at least, he went over the reports of the entire school. He was a stiff and stern master, but he considered himself just. For that reason he called Bobby Blake to his desk one day and said:
"Robert, I am sorry there is a serious fault marked against you. In recitations you have done better than any boy in the Lower School and better than most in the Upper. But I do not like a stubborn boy; we can none of us – we teachers, I mean – excuse such a fault as that. I hear good reports of you in every direction, and your name has been mentioned among the few who stand a chance of winning the Medal of Honor.
"It is a most serious matter for a boy to refuse to answer proper questions put to him by those who have him in charge. You must learn this now. To obey is your duty. Do you realize that?"
"Yes, sir," said Bobby in a low tone, and swallowing hard. "I understand, sir."
What he understood was that, if he had been willing to tell on his chum, and Shiner, and Sparrow, he might have won the medal. But he could not do that!
He had never thought of taking the matter up with Dr. Raymond. An older boy – Captain Gray, for instance – might have gone to the Doctor and stated his side of the case. But Bobby did not question for a moment the right of Mr. Leith to put in that report against him.
It was pretty hard for the boy to bear. He wanted so much to write his parents that he had won the distinction of the gold medal Dr. Raymond had shown them on that first day of school. The Lower School was solid for Bobby and many of the older lads admired the pluck and good humor of the boy from Clinton. His strongest partisans were Fred Martin and Sparrow Bangs, who admired him so much because he was so different from themselves, perhaps.
Pee Wee was Bobby's staunch champion, too. The fat boy boldly declared his admiration for the Clinton boy in any company.
"There isn't another boy like him," Pee Wee said in gymnasium one day, when Bobby was absent. "Say! there's not one of you big fellows but what he's done a favor for – and more than once. I say – "
"Come! you needn't froth at the mouth over it," growled Max Bender.
"Huh! you haven't anything to say against Bobby," declared Pee Wee.
"I know I haven't," returned Max, red to his ears. "I'd vote for him right now. Barry can't get the medal anyway.
"He doesn't stand well enough in Latin and physics for one thing," pursued Max. "He knows it. Barry's a good fellow, and the Old Doc. is proud of him, I reckon; but he never was a bone for work."
Pee Wee was inspired by this statement to "root" all the harder for Bobby Blake.
"He can get it, I know!" the fat boy kept saying. "There isn't another boy in the school stands as good a chance."
"But if Mr. Leith is bound not to vote for him, what chance is there for Bobby? Tell me that, now?" demanded Fred Martin.
"What's Old Leith got against him?" asked one of the other boys.
"Oh, it's that fight," said Pee Wee, with a side glance at Fred.
"You've said that before," Skeets Brody observed. "I don't know about any fight Bobby's been in since he came here."
"Oh, he wasn't in it," returned Pee Wee.
Fred's face colored deeply. He waited his chance and got the fat boy aside. "What's all this about Bobby fighting?" he demanded. "You know something more than you're telling."
"You know," said the fat boy.
"No, I don't!"
"Yes, you do; and Sparrow knows, and Shiner knows – "
"That old thing!" exclaimed Fred. "Who told you about it? And it happened months ago."
"Old Leith doesn't forget easily. You and Sparrow had a scrap, didn't you?"
"Who told you so?"
"Never you mind. I know you are as thick as thieves now," grinned Pee Wee. "But there was a time when you and Sparrow were going to knock each other's heads off. Isn't that so?"
"Aw – it wasn't a fight," growled Fred.
"And Bobby was in it."
"What if he was?"
"Leith knows. He caught Bobby somehow. And Bobby wouldn't tell on the rest of you," said Pee Wee. "That's how he got in bad with Mr. Leith, and it's what is going to keep him out of winning that medal – yes, it is!"
"Wow! I didn't know it was like that," gasped the red-haired boy. "Bobby ran back for my cap. I remember now. I thought Leith only punished him by keeping him shut in for three days."
"Huh! that's the how of it, is it?"
"He never said a word about it," declared Fred, gulping. "He's never peeped that Old Leith was holding it up against him."
"I know," declared Pee Wee, nodding. "He tried to make Bobby tell on you fellows, and Bobby wouldn't. So that busted up his chance of getting the medal."
"Why!" murmured Fred, "he's been working just as hard for it all the time."
The fat boy seemed to have a little better appreciation of Bobby's character than his own chum. "Why!" he said. "I reckon Bobby would do his best anyway. He's that kind of a fellow."
Fred went to the dressing room and slowly got out of his gymnasium suit and stood under the shower. He was puzzled and disturbed. It was not his way to think very deeply.
But red hair stands for something besides a quick temper. Such hair usually belongs to a warm heart. Fred, if thoughtless, was as loyal to his chum as Damon was to Pythias, and all boys have read the story of those famous friends.
Fred had taken it for granted that Bobby's punishment, on that long-past occasion, was completed when he had remained indoors at Mr. Leith's command. Fred did not suppose it had gone farther.
Bobby had never said a word. Of course, he would not have! that was Bobby's way.
It smote Fred Martin hard that if Bobby lost his chance to win the medal, it would be partly his fault. And Bobby had tried to keep him out of the fight with Sparrow, in the first place!
The fight had not done him, or Sparrow, or Shiner, a bit of harm. He and Sparrow had been the best of friends ever since that day in the "bloody corner"! But poor Bobby —
"It's a mean shame," Fred muttered to himself. "Old Leith's not fair. What business has he got holding that against Bobby! He's punishing Bobby for our sins. It's a shame!"
Thinking about it, or talking about it, was not going to help his chum in the least. Fred had been a little afraid that some of the reports that had gone home to his father would call forth from Mr. Martin sharp criticism. He knew he did not stand any too well in his own classes, and in deportment.
He had not been caught in any great fault. However, if Mr. Leith knew that he had been fighting that day in the corner, it would mean a big, black smear on his report for the year. That was just as sure as could be.
"And Dad said if I didn't show up good this year, he'd take me into the store and make me run errands, and send me back to public school," thought Master Fred.
"Gracious! that would leave Bobby here alone. Not to come back to Rockledge next fall – "
The red-haired boy could not bear to think of such a calamity. It was certainly most awful to contemplate.
He got into his clothing and wandered out of the gymnasium. Nobody chanced to speak to him and he stood on the school steps for some minutes turning a very hard problem over in his mind.
And then a thought, like a keen-bladed rapier, stabbed Fred right in his most vulnerable point – his conscience!
"What does it matter if Bobby does appear cheerful? You're wrong!
"Oh, crickey!" groaned the red-haired boy, and he turned square around and climbed the steps. With dragging footsteps he made his way to Mr. Leith's class-room, where he knew he should find the master correcting examination papers.
Pee Wee, having gotten hold of one end of the thread, unraveled the whole piece in short order. He soon had the truth out of Sparrow and Shiner about the long-forgotten fight in "bloody corner."
The fat boy was something more than a gossip, however. He, whose mind seemed usually interested mainly in food, proved that he could think of something else.
He wasted little time on the Lower School but it was not long before every other boy at Rockledge knew how Bobby had pluckily – and silently – suffered for the wrong three other boys had done.