Dave Porter and His Classmates

"Hum!" Doctor Clay was silent for fully a minute. "You can both go to your classes. If I wish to see you further in regard to this – ahem – unfortunate affair I will let you know."

The boys bowed and went out, and quarter of an hour later each was deep in the studies for the day. Occasionally their minds wandered to what had occurred, and they tried to imagine what the outcome would be.

"I don't think the doctor will stand for the whip," was the way Dave expressed himself, and in this surmise he was correct. That very afternoon the master of the Hall called the teacher to his office, and a warm discussion followed. But what was said was never made public. Yet one thing the boys knew – Dave was never called upon to pay for the broken statue – Job Haskers had to settle that bill.

With the ice so fine on the river, much of the boys' off-time was spent in ice-boating and skating. One afternoon there was an ice-boat race between the Snowbird from Oak Hall, a boat from Rockville Military Academy, and two craft owned by young men of Oakdale. This brought out a large crowd, and each person was enthusiastic over his favorite.

"I hope our boat wins!" said Roger, who was on skates, as were Dave and Phil and many others.

"So do I," said Dave. "I don't care who comes in ahead so long as it's an ice-boat belonging to Oak Hall."

"That's pretty good!" cried Sam Day, "seeing that we have but one boat in the race."

"Say, that puts me in mind of a story," came from Shadow. "One time a lot of young fellows in a village organized a fire company. They voted to get uniforms and the question came up as to what color of shirts they should buy. They talked it over, and at last an old fire-fighter in a corner got up. 'Buy any color you please,' said he, 'any color you please, but be sure it's red!'" And the story caused a smile to go around.

The four ice-boats were soon ready for the contest, and at a pistol shot they started on the fivemile course which had been laid out. Messmer and Henshaw were on the Snowbird, which speedily took the second place, one of the town boats, named the Whistler, leading.

"Hurrah! they are off!"

"What's the matter with the Military Academy boat? She's a tail-ender."

"The Lark is third!"

So the cries ran on, as the ice-boats skimmed along over the smooth ice, swept clear of nearly all the snow by the wind. Dave and his chums skated some distance after the boats and then halted, to await their return.

"Hurrah, the Snowbird is crawling up on the Whistler!" cried Buster Beggs.

"They are neck and neck!" said Luke Watson.

"Yes, but the Venus is coming up, too," answered Phil. "Gracious, but I'll wager those Rockville fellows would like to win!"

"The Venus must be a new boat," said Ben Basswood. "I never saw her before."

"She is new – some of the Military Academy fellows purchased her last week," answered another boy.

The crowd moved on, Dave stopping to fix one of his skates, which had become loose. As he straightened up, a girl brushed past him and looked him full in the face. He saw that she was one of the two who had been on the ice-boat at the time of the accident. She gave him a sunny smile and he very politely tipped his cap to her.

"I suppose you hope your boat will win," she said, coming to a halt near him.

"You mean the Oak Hall boat, I suppose?"

"Of course, Mr. Porter."

"Yes, I hope we do win," answered Dave, and wondered how she had learned his name. "Don't you hope we'll win, too, Miss Rockwell?" he continued, seeing that the others had gone on and he was practically alone with his new acquaintance.

"Well, I – I really don't know," she answered, and smiled again. "You see, the Whistler belongs to some friends of my big brother, so I suppose I ought to want that to win."

"But if the Snowbird is a better boat – "

Vera Rockwell gave a merry laugh – it was her nature to laugh a good deal. "Of course if your boat is the better of the two – But I am keeping you from your friends," she broke off.

"Oh, I shan't mind that," said Dave politely, and he did not mind in the least, for Vera seemed so good-natured that he was glad to have a chance to talk to her.

"I wanted to meet you," Vera went on, as, without hardly noticing it, they skated off side by side. "I wanted to thank you for what you and your friend did for us the other day."

"I guess you had better blame us. If we hadn't rolled that big snowball down the hill – "

"Oh, but you said you didn't mean to hit the ice-boat – "

"Which was true – we didn't see the ice-boat until it was too late. I hope you and your friend got home safely?"

"We did. When we reached the road we met a farmer we knew with a big sled, and he took Mary and me right to our doors."

"Do you live in Oakdale?"

"Yes, – just on the outskirts of the town, – the big brick house with the iron fence around the garden."

"Oh, I've seen that place often. You used to have a little black dog who was very friendly and would sit up on his hind legs and beg."

"Gyp! Yes, and I have him yet – and he's the cutest you ever saw! He can do all kinds of tricks. Some day, when you are passing, if you'll stop I'll show you."

"Thank you, I'll remember, and I'll be sure to stop," answered Dave, much pleased with the invitation.

"Here they come! Here they come!" was the cry, and suddenly the youth and the girl found themselves in a big body of skaters. Vera was struck on the arm by one burly man, and would have gone down had not Dave supported her.

"Better take my hand," said Dave, and the girl did so, for she was a little frightened. Then the crowd increased, and they had to fall back a little, to get out of the jam. Dave looked around for his chums, but they were nowhere in sight. Then all strained their eyes to behold the finish of the ice-boat contest.

CHAPTER X

DAVE SPEAKS HIS MIND

"Here they come!"

"The Whistler is ahead!"

"Yes, but the Snowbird is crawling up!"

"See, the Venus has given up."

So the cries ran on, as the ice-boats drew closer and closer to the finishing line of the contest. It was true the Venus, the craft from the Rockville Military Academy, had fallen far behind and had given up. The third boat was also well to the rear, so the struggle was between the Oak Hall craft and the Whistler only.

"I hope we win!" cried Dave, enthusiastically.

"Oh, how mean!" answered Vera, reproachfully. "Well, I – er – I don't mean that exactly, but I'd like to see my brother's friends come in ahead."

"One thing is sure – it's going to be close," continued Dave. "Can you see at all?"

"Not much – there is such a crowd in front."

"Too bad! Now if you were a little girl, I'd lift you on my shoulder," and he smiled merrily.

"Oh, the idea!" And Vera laughed roundly. "I can see the tops of the masts, anyway. They seem to be about even."

"They are. I think – "

"A tie! a tie!" was the cry. Then a wild cheer went up, as both ice-boats crossed the line side by side. A second later the crowd broke out on the course and began skating hither and thither.

"Is it really a tie?" asked the girl.

"So it seems."

"Well, I am glad, for now we can both be satisfied." Vera looked around somewhat anxiously. "Have you seen anything of Mary Feversham? She came skating when I did."

"You mean the other young lady who was with you on that ice-boat?"

"Yes."

"No, I haven't seen her. Perhaps we can find her if we skate around a bit."

"Oh, but I don't want to trouble you."

"It is no trouble, it will be a pleasure. We might – "

At that moment a number of skaters swept by, including Nat Poole. The dudish student smiled at Vera and then, noticing Dave, stared in astonishment.

"Do you know him?" asked Vera, and for a moment she frowned.

"Yes, he belongs to our school."

"Oh!" She drew down the corners of her pretty mouth. "I – I didn't know that."

"We are not very friendly – he doesn't belong to my set," Dave went on, for he had not liked that smile from Poole, and he was sure Vera had not liked it either.

"He spoke to us once – Mary and me – one day last week when we were skating. He was dressed in the height of fashion, and I suppose he thought we would be glad to know him. But we didn't answer him. Ever since that time he has been smiling at us. I wish he'd stop. If he doesn't I shall tell my big brother about it."

"If he annoys you too much let me know and I'll go at him myself," answered Dave, readily. "I've had plenty of trouble with him in the past, but I shan't mind a little more." And then he told of some of the encounters with the dudish student. Vera was greatly interested and laughed heartily over the jokes that had been played.

"You boys must have splendid times!" she cried. "Oh, don't you know, sometimes I wish I were a boy!" And then she told something of her own doings and the doings of Mary Feversham, who was her one chum. Along with their relatives, the girls had spent the summer on the St. Lawrence, and the previous winter they had been to Florida, which made Dave conclude that they were well-to-do.

They skated around a little more and soon met Mary Feversham, who was with Vera's big brother. Then Roger and Phil came up; and all were introduced to each other.

"The girls told me about the big snowball affair," said Rob Rockwell. "I told 'em it served 'em right for going out with those Military Academy chaps. Those fellows never struck me right – they put on too many airs. We wouldn't stand for that sort of thing at my college."

"Well, the race was a tie between our boat and the boat of your friend," said Dave, to change the subject. "They'll have to race over again some day."

"Jackson let one of his ropes break at the turn," answered Rob Rockwell. "That threw his sail over and put him behind – otherwise he might have won."

Rob was a college youth, big, round-faced, and with a loud voice and somewhat positive manner. But he was a good fellow, and Dave and his chums took to him immediately, and the two parties did not separate until it was time for the Oak Hall students to return to that institution. At parting Vera gave Dave a pleasant smile.

"Remember the dog," she said.

"I certainly shall," he answered, and smiled in return.

"What did she mean about a dog?" questioned Roger, a minute later, when the chums were skating for the school dock.

"Oh, not much," answered Dave, evasively. "She told me where she lived and I said I remembered seeing her little black dog, and then she said he could do all kinds of tricks, and if I'd stop there some time she'd show me." And hardly knowing why, Dave blushed slightly.

"Oh, that's it," answered the senator's son, and then said no more. But in his heart he was just a little bit jealous because he had not been invited to call too. Vera's open-hearted, jolly manner pleased him fully as much as it pleased Dave.

"They are all-right girls," was Phil's comment, when the boys were taking off their skates. "That Vera Rockwell is full of fun, I suspect. But I rather prefer Mary Feversham, even if she is more quiet."

"Going to marry her soon, Phil?" asked Dave, quizzically.

"Sure," was the unabashed reply. "The ceremony will take place on the thirty-first of next February, at four minutes past two o'clock in the evening. Omit flowers, but send in all the solid silver dollars you wish." And this remark caused the others to laugh.

Two days later Link Merwell came back to school. Dave did not see the bully on his arrival, and the pair did not meet until Dave went to one of the classrooms to recite. Then, much to his surprise, Merwell greeted him with a friendly nod.

"How do you do, Porter?" he said, pleasantly.

"How are you, Merwell?" was the cold response.

"Oh, I'm pretty well, thank you," went on Link Merwell, easily. "Fine weather we are having. I suppose skating is just elegant. I brought along a new pair of skates and I hope to have lots of fun on them." The bully came closer. "Had the pleasure of meeting your sister out West," he continued in a lower tone. "My! but I was surprised! You were a lucky dog to find your father and Laura. See you later." And the bully passed on to his seat.

Dave's face flushed and his heart beat rapidly. As my old readers know he had good cause to feel a resentment against Link Merwell, and it was maddening to have the bully mention Laura's name. He could see why the fellow was acting so cordially – it was solely on Laura's account. Evidently he considered his acquaintanceship with Laura quite an intimate one.

"I'll have to open his eyes to the truth," thought Dave. "And the sooner it is done the better." Then he turned to his lessons. But it was hard work to get the bully out of his mind, and he made several mistakes in reciting ancient history, much to Mr. Dale's surprise.

"You will have to study this over again," said the head teacher, kindly. And he marked a 6 against Dave's name, when the pupil might have had a 10.

Dave's opportunity to "have it out" with Link Merwell came the next afternoon, when he had gone for a short skate, previous to starting work on the essay which he hoped would win the prize. The two met at the boathouse, and fortunately nobody else was near.

"Going skating, I see," said Merwell, airily. "Finest sport going, I think. I wish your sister was here to enjoy it with us, don't you? I sent her a letter to-day. I suppose she told you we were having a little correspondence – just for fun, you know."

"See here, Link Merwell, we may as well have an understanding now as later," began Dave, earnestly. "I want to talk to you before anybody comes. I want you to leave my sister alone, – I want you to stop speaking about her, and stop writing to her. She told me about her trip west, and how she met you, and all that. At that time she didn't know you as I know you. But I've told her about you, and you can take it from me that she doesn't want to hear from you again. She is very sorry she ever met you and wrote to you."

"Oh, that's it, eh?" Link Merwell's face had grown first red and then deathly pale. "So you put in your oar, eh? Blackened my character all you could, I suppose." He shut his teeth with a snap. "You'd better take care!"

"I simply told her the truth."

"Oh, yes, I know just how you can talk, Porter! And did she say she wouldn't write to me any more?"

"She did. Now I want to know something more. What did you do with the letters she sent you?"

"I kept them."

"I want you to give them to me."

"To you?"

"Yes, and I will send them to her."

"Not much! They are my letters and I intend to keep them!" cried Link Merwell. His face took on a cunning look. "If you think you are going to get those letters away from me you are mistaken."

"Maybe I can force you to give them up, Merwell."

"What will you do – fight? If you try that game, Porter, I'll let every fellow in this school know what brought the fight about – and let them read the letters."

"You are a gentleman, I must say," answered Dave. He paused for a moment. "Then you won't give them up?"

"Positively, no."

"Then listen to me, Link Merwell. Sooner or later I'll make you give them up. In the meantime, if I hear of your letting anybody else read those letters, or know of them, I'll give you a ten times worse thrashing than I did before I left this school to go to Europe. Now remember that, for I mean every word I say."

"You can't make me give up the letters," said Merwell, doggedly. He was somewhat cowed by Dave's earnest manner.

"I can and I will."

"Maybe you think I've got them in my trunk? If so, you are mistaken."

"I don't care where you have them – I'll get them sometime. And remember, don't you dare to write to my sister again, or don't you dare to speak to her when you meet her."

"To listen to your talk, you'd think you were my master, Porter," sneered the bully, but his lips trembled slightly as he spoke.

"Not at all. But I want you to let my sister alone, that's all. All the decent fellows in this school know what you are, and it is no credit to any young lady to know you."

"Bah! I consider myself a better fellow than you are," snarled the bully. "You are rich now, but we all know how you were brought up, – among a lot of poorhou – "

Link Merwell stopped suddenly and took a hasty step backward. At his last words Dave's fists had doubled up and a light as of fire had come into his eyes.

"Not another word, Merwell," said Dave, in a strained voice. "Not one – or I'll bang your head against the wall until you yell for mercy. I can stand some things, but I can't stand that – and I won't!"

A silence followed, during which each youth glared at the other. Merwell had his skates in his hand and made a movement as if to lift them up and bring them down on Dave's head. But then his arm dropped to his side, for that terrible look of danger was still in the eyes of the youth who had spent some years of his life in the Crumville poorhouse.

"We'll have this out some other time," he muttered, and slunk out of the boathouse like a whipped cur.

CHAPTER XI

AT THE OLD GRANARY

There was to be a skating race that afternoon and Dave had thought to take part. But now he was in no humor for mingling with his fellow-students and so took a long walk, along the snow-covered road beyond Oak Hall.

At first his mind was entirely on Link Merwell, and on his sister Laura and the letters she had written to the bully. To be sure, Laura had told him that the letters contained only a lot of girlish nonsense, yet he was more than sorry Merwell held them and he would have given much to have gotten them away from the fellow he despised.

Returning to the Hall some time before supper, Dave went up to his dormitory. Only Bertram Vane was there, translating Latin.

"Come to study, Dave?" he questioned pleasantly, hardly glancing up from his work.

"I've come to work on that essay, Polly," Dave answered.

"You mean the Past and Future of Our Country?"

"Yes. Shall you try for the prize?"

"I may – I haven't got that far yet. It seems to me you are beginning early."

"Oh, I am merely going to jot down some ideas I have. Then, from time to time, I'll add to those ideas, and do the real writing later."

"That's a good plan. Maybe – " And then Polly Vane stopped speaking and lost himself in his Latin lesson. He was very studious as well as girlish, but one of the best fellows in the school.

Dave went to work, and so easily did his ideas flow that it was supper time before he had them all transferred to paper. The subject interested him greatly and he felt in his heart that he could do it full justice.

"But I must work carefully," he told himself. "If I don't, some other paper may be better than mine."

The students were flocking in from the campus, the gymnasium, and the river. Some came upstairs, to wash up before going to the dining room. Among the number was Chip Macklin, the young pupil who had in times gone by been the toady of Gus Plum when Plum had been the Hall bully.

"Oh, Dave Porter!" cried Chip, and running up, he clutched Dave by the arm.

"What is it, Chip?" asked Dave, seeing the little boy was white and trembling. "What's wrong?"

"I – I – I don't know whether to tell you or not," whispered Chip. "It's awful – dreadful!" He looked around, to make certain nobody else was near.

"What is awful?"

Again Chip looked around. "You won't say that I told you, will you? I suppose I ought to tell somebody – or do something – but perhaps Plum wouldn't like it. He can't be left out where he is, – he might freeze to death!"

"See here, Chip, explain yourself," and Dave's voice became somewhat stern.

"I will! I will! But it is so awful! Why, the Doctor may suspend Gus! And I thought he was going to reform!" Chip Macklin's voice trembled so he could hardly frame the words.

"Will you tell me just what you mean?"

"I will if – if you'll try to help Gus, Dave. Oh, I know you'll help him – you did before! It's such a shame to see him throw himself away!"

Dave looked the small student in the eyes and there was a moment of silence.

"I guess I know what you mean, Chip. Where is Gus?"

"Come on and I'll show you."

The pair hurried downstairs. In the lower hall they ran into Shadow.

"I was looking for you, Dave," said the story-teller of the school. "I want you to do something for me and – and for Gus Plum."

"Why, Shadow, Chip – What do you know about Gus?"

The three boys stared at each other. On the instant they felt all knew what was wrong.

"Was that what you said you'd tell me about sometime, Shadow?" asked Dave, in a whisper.

"Yes."

"Then it has happened before?"

"Yes, about three weeks after you and Roger went to Europe. I met him on the road, coming to the school after spending several hours at some tavern in Oakdale. He wouldn't say where he got the liquor. I wouldn't let him come to Oak Hall until late at night. Then we got in by a side door and I helped him to get to bed. In the morning he was quite sick, but I don't think anybody suspected the cause. That afternoon he told me he would never touch liquor again."

While Shadow was talking the three boys had left the school buildings and were hurrying around to the rear of one of the carriage sheds. Here was a small building which had once been used as a granary but was now partly filled with old garden implements and cut wood.

It was dark in the building and from a corner came the sounds of somebody breathing heavily. Shadow struck a match and held it up.

There, upon a pile of old potato sacks, lay Gus Plum, sleeping soundly. Close at hand lay a small flask which had contained liquor but which was now empty. Dave smelt of it, and then, going to the doorway, threw it far out into the deep snow.

If Dave's heart had never been heavy before it was heavy now. Gus Plum had promised faithfully to reform and he had imagined that the former bully would keep his word. But, according to Shadow's statement, Plum had fallen from grace twice, and if he would reform at all was now a question.

"It's fearful, isn't it, Dave?" said the story-teller of the school, in a whisper.

"Yes, Shadow, I – I hardly know what to say – I hoped for so much from Gus – I thought he'd make one of the best fellows in this school after all – after he had lived down the past. But now – " Dave's voice broke and he could not go on for a moment.

"We can't leave him here – and if we take him into the school – " began Chip Macklin.

"How long has he been here?"

"Not over an hour or two," answered Shadow.

"He must have gone to town for the liquor."

"Unless he had it on hand – he went to town a couple of days ago," said Chip.

"We've got to do something quick – or we'll be missed from the dining hall," continued Shadow.

"You fellows can go back, Shadow; I'll take care of him. Make some kind of an excuse for my absence – say I didn't care for anything to eat."

"But what will you do, Dave?"

"I don't know yet – but I'll fix it up somehow. This must be kept a secret, not only on Gus's account but for the honor of Oak Hall. If this got out to the public, it would give the school a terrible black eye."

"I know that. Why, my father would never let me attend a school where there was any drinking going on."

"Doctor Clay isn't responsible for this – nobody is responsible but Gus himself, – unless somebody led him on. But go on, there goes the last bell for supper."

Shadow passed over half a dozen matches he carried and went out, followed by Chip Macklin. Dave stood in the dark, listening to Gus Plum's heavy breathing. He did not know what to do, yet he felt he had a duty to perform and he made up his mind to perform it. At any hazard he must keep the former bully from public exposure, and he must do his best to make Plum reform once more. He uttered a prayer that Heaven might help him to do what was best.

Lighting another match, Dave espied an old lantern on a shelf, half filled with dirty oil, and lit it. Then he approached Plum and touched him on the arm. The sleeping youth did not awaken, and even when Dave shook him he still slumbered on.