CHAPTER VI
A PLAN THAT FAILED
One afternoon Dr. Mead announced that there would be an evening lecture, in preparation for final examinations, and he stated that he expected every student to be present.
"The only excuse that will be accepted for non-attendance," he said, "will be illness. As there are no students sick now, I shall regard with grave suspicion any reports of indisposition between now and the time for the lecture."
"What do you say to a swim?" asked Sam, of Jack, as they filed out from the auditorium where Dr. Mead had made his announcement.
"I'll go," replied Jack. "Any of the other fellows going along?"
"Dick, Nat and Bill Slade are coming," said Sam. "I left them going for their suits. Come on."
"Wait until I get mine," spoke Jack, and he hurried off, to join Sam a few minutes later.
On the way to a quiet spot in Rudmore Lake, where the boys were in the habit of taking their swimming exercises, Jack and Sam were joined by the others.
"Did you hear the latest?" asked Bony Balmore, making his anatomy rattle in a way peculiar to himself.
"No, what is it?" asked Jack.
"Two new students arrived," went on Bony. "They're chums of Sport
Bagot's I guess, 'cause I saw them walking with him."
"Who are they?" asked Sam.
"Ed Simpson and John Higley," replied Sam. "I heard they were regular cut-ups, and got fired out of one school. Their guardians sent them here to finish the term. I s'pose they'll try some funny work."
"L-l-l-l-et 'em t-t-t-try it!" spluttered Will. "I-i g-g-g-guess we c-c-c—"
"Oh, whistle it!" exclaimed Sam.
"Pzznt!" exploded Will, which seemed to get his vocal cords in shape again. "We'll fix 'em if they try any tricks!"
"Now you're talking," said Jack.
The boys lost little time in getting into the lake. They were splashing about in the water, when Jack, who happened to swim near shore, was startled by a cautious hail. He looked up, to see Budge Rankin half hidden in the grass, making signals to him.
"What is it?" asked Jack.
"Geasynow!" exclaimed Budge, in a hoarse whisper, tossing aside a wad of gum that he might talk more plainly.
"Go easy about what?" asked Jack.
"They're going to play a trick on you," said Budge.
"Who?" inquired Jack, while the other boys, attracted by the conversation drew near.
"Adrian Bagot and the two new students," went on Budge. "They're on their way here. Goin' t' steal your clothes an' make you late for th' lecture. I heard 'em talkin' about it. Thought I'd warn you. 'Sthmatterithfoolinem?" Budge had taken a fresh chew of gum, which accounted for the way in which he inquired what was the matter with fooling the enemy.
"True for you!" exclaimed Sam. "How we going to do it?"
Jack pondered a moment, idly splashing the water with his opened hand. Then he exclaimed:
"I have it! How long before they'll be here, Budge?"
"'Bout ten minutes I reckon."
"Long enough. Come on boys."
"What you up to?" asked Nat.
"Say nothing but follow me," was all Jack replied.
He scrambled up the bank to where he had left his clothes. Catching up the garments into a bundle he placed them further along the bank, on a little bluff that overlooked the edge of the lake. The clothes were in plain sight.
"They'll see them there," objected Fred.
"That's what I want," Jack replied. "Do as I do."
Wondering what was up the others obeyed. Jack then ran to a small boathouse, close to the swimming place, and returned with three long, thin ropes, used to tie the craft to the dock.
For a few minutes Jack's fingers flew nimbly. Then he placed three rope circles, hiding them well in the grass, each one just in front of each of the three piles of clothes. He carefully carried the long ends of the ropes down the bank and into the water.
"Oh, I see!" exclaimed Sam, with a chuckle. "Say, this is great!"
"Now, Budge," said Jack, when he had finished his preparations. "You hide in the bushes. When you think it's time, you toss a stone into the water. Do you understand?"
"Betcherlife!" replied Budge, shortly.
"Get down under the bank, then, fellows," said Jack to his companions. "Keep well in shore, and when you hear the stone splash, pull. That's all!"
"But they may take our clothes," objected Will, who did not seem to understand.
"I don't believe they will," replied Jack, grimly.
The boys entered the water again, and, crouched close under the bank, sinking down so that only the tip of their noses were above the surface. It was almost impossible to tell they were there.
Had any one been up on the bank a few minutes later he would have observed three lads come creeping along, as if they were afraid of being seen. Adrian Bagot was in the lead.
"I don't see them" spoke one of the trio.
"Keep quiet, Ed Simpson," cautioned Adrian. "That Ranger chap has sharp ears. Do you see 'em, John?"
"There's their clothes in little piles, just ahead," replied John Higley. "They couldn't have left 'em better for us. Come on; we'll hide 'em, and then we'll see what happens."
"Guess they won't be so fresh after this," spoke Bagot.
Slowly the trio crept forward. Well might Jack and his chums worried for the fate of their garments had they seen the three conspirators. But Budge was on the watch.
Just as the three sneaks were about to reach down and gather the swimmers' clothes, a stone sailed through the air, and fell with a splash into the water. An instant later there was a wild scene on the bank.
Three youths went flying toward the edge of the lake as though propelled by unseen hands. They seemed to have ropes attached to their legs, ropes which were being pulled from below.
Then three well-dressed lads were struggling in the water, while five other youths stood up in the shallows looking on.
"I guess we turned the tables that time," remarked Jack.
CHAPTER VII
FOILING A PLOT
"Save me! Save me!" yelled Adrian Bagot.
"I'm drowning!" screamed Ed Simpson.
"I'm sinking!" shouted John Higley.
The three conspirators were floundering about in the water. Because of the rope nooses about their feet their efforts to stand upright were not entirely successful.
"Who did this?" inquired Bagot angrily, as he tried to get rid of a mouthful of water.
"If—if I-I die they'll hang for this!" spluttered Ed Simpson.
"No danger of your drowning, you're too mean," said Jack. "Besides it's only up to your knees. Stand up and wade out."
By this time the three lads, their clothing dripping with water, had managed to stand upright. They reached down under the dancing wavelets and loosened the nooses.
"You'll pay for this, Jack Ranger," shouted Adrian, shaking his fist at our hero.
"All right, I'm ready whenever you are," was the cool answer. "Come on, fellows, we don't want to be late for the lecture," and he started from the water, followed by his chums.
"I'll have you arrested for damaging my clothes," exclaimed Ed.
"And I suppose you'd tell on the witness stand about what you intended to do to ours," went on Jack. "I guess you'll cry 'quits,' that's what you'll do. You tried to play a trick on us, but you got left. So long. Don't miss the lecture."
He scrambled ashore, his comrades doing likewise, while the three lads who had taken such an unexpected bath waded out as best they could. They were sorry looking sights.
"But I don't exactly un-d-d-d-erstand how it it h-h-h-appened?" stuttered Will, who had not had hold of one of the ropes.
"I just made slip nooses, and placed them where they'd have to step into them before they could lay hands on the clothes," explained Jack. "Budge gave me the signal when they were inside the ropes."
"And then we just pulled," put in Nat. "Wow! It was a corker, Jack!
How did you think of it?"
"It just happened to come to me. Say didn't they come down off that bank sailing, though?"
"I pulled as if I was landing a ten pound pickerel," said Fred. "I wonder who I had."
"Didn't stop to notice," Jack said, as he slipped on his coat. "They all came together. What a splash they made!"
By this time the three conspirators had crawled up the bank. They were so soaking wet that it was hard to walk. Their shoes "squashed" out water at every step. They sat down on the grass, took them off, and removed some of their garments, which they proceeded to wring out.
"Better hurry up," advised Jack, as he finished dressing. "Lecture begins in about two hours, and you're quite a way from home."
"I'll—" began Ed Simpson, when Adrian stopped him with a gesture.
"Sorry we have to leave you," Sam went on. "If you'd sent your cards we would have had the water warmed for you. Hope you didn't find it too chilly."
The three cronies did not reply, but went on trying to get as much water as possible from their garments. Leaving them sitting on the grass, as the afternoon waned into evening, the swimmers hurried back to the academy.
When the roll was called at the evening lecture, which was at an early hour, Jack and his friends replied "here!"
For a week or more after the episode at the lake, matters at the academy went on in a rather more even tenor than was usual. One night Sam, who finished his studying early went to Jack's room.
"Boning away?" he asked.
"Just finishing my Caesar," was the reply. "Why, anything on?"
"Nothing special," replied Sam. "Do you feel anything queer in your bones?"
"Not so much as a touch of fever and ague," replied Jack with a laugh. "Do you need quinine?"
"Quit your fooling. I mean don't you feel as if you wanted to do something?"
"Oh I'm always that way, more or less," Jack admitted. "I'm not taking anything for it, though."
"I'd like to take a stroll," said Sam. "I think that would quiet me down. I feel just as if something was going to happen."
"Probably something will, if we go out at this hour," Jack said.
"It's against the rules."
"I know it is, but it wouldn't be the first time you or I did it. Come on, let's go out. Down the trellis, the way you did when you discovered Grimm smoking."
"I don't know," began Jack.
"Of course you don't," interrupted Sam. "I'll attend to all that.
Come on."
Needing no more urging, Jack laid aside his book, turned his light low, and soon he and Sam were cautiously making their way from Jack's window, along a trellis and drain pipe to the ground.
"There!" exclaimed Sam, as he dropped lightly to the earth. "I feel better already. Some of the restlessness has gone."
"Keep shady," muttered Jack. "Some of the teachers have rooms near here."
They walked along under the shadow of the Hall until they came to a window from which a brilliant light streamed forth. It came from a crack between the lowered shade and the casement. It was impossible to pass it without seeing what was going on inside the apartment. At the same time they could hear the murmur of voices.
"Adrian Bagot, and his two cronies up to some trick!" whispered Jack, as he grasped Sam by the arm.
The two friends saw the three new students bending over a table, containing a pot of something, which they seemed to be stirring with a long stick.
"What are they up to?" whispered Sam.
"Experimenting with chemicals, perhaps," said Jack.
"Don't you believe it," retorted Sam. "They're up to some game, you can bet. I wonder if we can't get wise to what it is."
Cautiously they drew nearer to the window. They found it was open a crack.
"Will it make much of an explosion?" asked Ed Simpson.
"Hardly any," replied Higley. "Only a puff and lots of smoke, but it will leave its mark all right, and I guess those fresh friends of Jack Ranger's will laugh on the other corner of their mouths."
"I'd like to get even with them before the term closes," put in
Adrian.
"We'll do it all right," went on Ed.
"Don't be too sure of that," whispered Jack.
It did not require much effort on the part of Jack and Sam to understand what the three conspirators were up to. Their conversation, which floated through the opened window, and their references to certain localities put the two listeners in possession of the whole scheme.
"Well, if that isn't the limit," said Jack in a whisper. "I wouldn't believe they'd dare to do it."
"How can we foil their plans?" asked Sam.
"Hark, some one is coming," said Jack, dropping down on his hands and knees, an example which Sam followed. Then came a cautious signal, a whistle.
"It's John Smith, my Indian friend!" exclaimed Jack. "He must have just got back," for the half-breed had been away for a few weeks, as one of his relatives was ill. Jack sounded a cautious whistle in reply, and soon the Indian student was at his side. There were hurried greetings, and Jack soon explained the situation.
"Let me think it over a minute," said John Smith. "It takes me rather suddenly."
For a few seconds John remained in deep thought. Then he exclaimed:
"I think I have it. Have you any chemicals in your room, Jack?"
"Plenty," was the answer. "I've been boning on that lately, and I got a fresh supply from the laboratory the other day to experiment with."
"Then I think we'll make these chaps open their eyes."
The three friends hurried to Jack's room, where they were busy for some time, behind carefully drawn shades. At the end of about two hours, Jack, who had been keeping watch from a window, exclaimed:
"There they go with the stuff. It's time we got a move on."
"They'll not set it off until midnight," spoke Sam, "That's what they said. We'll have time enough to do what we are going to."
The three friends worked hurriedly. When they had finished they had several packages. Down the trellis they went and out on the campus, which was shrouded in darkness.
They made their way to the foot of a statue of George Washington, which stood on a broad base in front of the school. There stood the Father of His Country, with outstretched arms, as if warning invaders away from the precincts of learning.
"They've been here!" said Sam in a whisper.
He pointed to some straggling black lines at the base of the figure, and to a thin thing like a string: which led over the grass toward the room of Adrian Bagot.
"They've put our initials in powder here," said Jack. "Trying to throw the blame on us when it goes off."
"We'll soon fix that," replied Sam. The three boys made some rapid movements around the statue, and then cut the thin thing which led to the room of young Bagot.
"I guess when he touches off that fuse he'll wonder what has happened," observed John Smith.
"Have you enough of the other fuse?" asked Jack.
"Plenty," replied the Indian student. "Have you changed the initials?"
"Every one," said Sam.
"Then I think we can go back," said John. "Take care of my fuse.
Don't get tangled up in it."
The boys made their way quietly to a spot just under the window of
Bagot's room. There they placed what seemed to be a piece of board.
"Now back to your room, and wait until they start the fun," said
John.
The three friends had not long to wait. A little after midnight they heard Bagot's window cautiously open. There was the sound of a match striking, and then Sam called to Jack:
"Let her go!"
A second later a thin trail of fire spurted along the ground from the sporty student's room. It was followed by a larger one from the foot of the trellis by which Jack had descended. A few seconds later it seemed as if a Fourth of July celebration was in progress.
Sparks of fire ran along to the statue of the first President. Then there was a puff of smoke, and in front of the hero of the Revolution there shot up dancing flames.
At the same time there sounded several sharp explosions, as though the British were firing on the Minute Men at Lexington, and the latter were replying as fast as they could load and discharge their flintlocks.
Windows began to go up here and there, and heads were thrust forth.
"What is it?" "What's the matter?" "Are there burglars?" were some of the cries.
Brighter now burned the fire at the foot of the statue, which was enveloped in a cloud of flame and smoke, and, had the original been alive he must have delighted in the baptism of gunpowder.
Then there came a louder explosion. It was followed by a shower of sparks, and a trail of sparks began running along the ground, toward the college.
An instant later there blazed forth on a board as on an illuminated sign, in front of the room of Adrian Bagot the words in letters of fire:
WE DID IT.
Underneath, in smaller characters were the initials;
"A.B. E.S. J.H."
"Wait until Dr. Mead sees that," said Jack, as he looked out on the campus, which was now a scene of brilliancy.
CHAPTER VIII
THE BURGLAR SCARE
The whole academy was now aroused. Several students and teachers, in scanty attire, had come from their rooms and were hurrying down to see if the place was on fire. For several minutes the blazing words and initials shone out amid the darkness. Then they died away in a shower of sparks, and windows could be heard being put down.
"That's excitement enough for one night," remarked John Smith. "It succeeded better than I thought it would."
"That was a great idea," said Jack.
"Glad you think so," the Indian went on.
"I've seen soldiers at the Canadian forts play all sorts of tricks with gunpowder and slow fuse so I just adopted some of them. It was easy enough, after they laid the powder train, with the initials of you, Sam, and Bony, to change them into a general serpentine twist with their initials in the midst of it. By ramming some of the powder down into the holes in the foundation it exploded with quite a noise."
"Lucky you had those chemicals in your room, Jack, or I'd never been able to make that board with the words 'We did it' on and stick it up in front of Adrian's window. I used part of their own long fuse, and it was a good one."
"Seemed to do the work all right," agreed Sam.
"It sure did," observed Jack. "I wonder what they thought when they saw the fire coming their way?"
"Hush! Here comes some one!" exclaimed Sam. and the boys put out their light, which was burning low.
"It's Dr. Mead; I know his step," said Jack.
"I'll bet he's on his way to Bagot's room," spoke Sam. "Cracky! I'm glad it isn't me."
"It's only good luck it isn't!" put in Jack. "If we hadn't gone out they might have exploded their powder, and, in the morning our initials would have been found at the bottom of the statue, burned in the stone."
A little later loud talking was heard from the direction of Adrian's room. It quieted down, after a while. But there was a strenuous session at chapel the next morning, and Adrian and his cronies were given extra lessons to do.
For a week or more after this all the students had to buckle down to hard study, as the annual examinations were approaching. Jack and his chums had little time for sports of any kind, as they had a number of lessons to master in addition to their regular work. But by diligence they kept up with the requirements, and, about two weeks before the time set for the closing of the school, they found themselves on even terms.
"I'm ready for some fun," announced Jack, one evening. "I've been good and quiet so long I can feel my wings sprouting."
"Better go easy," cautioned John Smith.
"I'm going to; as easy as I can," replied Jack. "But I've got to do something or break loose."
"Shivering side-saddles!" exclaimed Nat Anderson. "Let's have a burglar scare."
"How?" asked Sam.
"I'll think of a plan," Nat went on. "Howling huckleberries, but I too am pining for a little excitement, Jack."
"Well, trot out your plan," Jack said. "We haven't got much time."
"Let me think a minute," begged Nat, and, while he assumed an attitude as though he was trying to solve a problem in geometry, Fred drew out a little tin fife and played such a doleful air that Nat cried:
"How do you expect me to think with that thing going?" and, with a quick grab he snatched it from Fred's hand and sent it spinning across Jack's room.
"I have it!" Nat exclaimed, when the excitement had somewhat subsided. "You all know what timid creatures Professors Gale and Hall are. They room together, and I believe they'd scream if they saw a mouse. Not that they're a bad sort, for they have both helped me a lot in my lessons. But men ought not to be such babies. Now what's the matter with a couple of us disguising ourselves as burglars and going into their rooms about midnight? The rest of us can hide and hear the fun."
"Maybe they'll shoot," suggested Sam.
"Shoot! They'd be afraid to handle a revolver," was Nat's comment.
"Well, as long as it won't do any real harm, and as we positively have to have something happen, let's go on with it," said Jack. "Who'll be the burglars?"
"Nat'll have to be one," spoke John Smith, as he proposed it."
"Ll-l-let me be t-t-the o-o-o-other," said Will Slade haltingly.
"What? And when you demand their money or their lives how would you say it?" asked Sam.
"Nice sort of a burglar you'd make. 'G-g-g-give m-m-m-me y-y-y-your m-m-mon—'"
Sam stopped suddenly and dodged back, as Will aimed a blow at him. In doing so he stumbled over a pile of books and went down in a heap.
"Serves you right," said Jack. "Just for his making fun of Will I vote we elect Will as one of the burglars."
The others agreed, even Sam, and Will regained his good nature.
"How about masks?" asked Sam.
"I'll make some," replied Jack, and, from some pieces of black cloth, he quickly cut two false-faces.
"I-I-I-I've g-g-got t-t-t have a g-g-g-g—" came from Will.
"Are you trying to say a pair of gum shoes?" asked John Smith. "I'll lend you a pair of moccasins."
"I guess he means gun," volunteered Nat. "But these will do just as well," and he got a couple of nickel-plated bicycle pumps from a drawer. "They'll shine in the dim light just like revolvers," he went on.
"Guess I'll take a stroll down the corridor and see how the land lies," said Jack. "We don't want to burglarize a room that has no one in it, and they may not be in when the second story men get there."
"That's so, how are we going to get in?" asked Nat.
"Easy," replied Jack. "Their room is on the ground floor, and you can just raise the screen up and drop in. They always leave their window open a bit, as they're fresh air fiends."
While Jack went to take an observation, the two amateur burglars made their arrangements. They turned their clothing inside out, and, with the two pieces of black cloth across their faces, while ragged caps were drawn down close over their foreheads, they looked the part to perfection.
Jack soon returned, to report that the coast was clear, and that both assistants were in the room.
"Gales is reading Shakespeare, and Hall is manicuring his nails," the spy reported. "But it's too early yet. Let's go take a stroll and about midnight will be the right time. We can hide in the bushes opposite the room and hear 'em call for help. Then we can rush up and pretend we came to the rescue. That will be a good excuse in case we're caught watching the game."
Both assistants retired early, and the boys knew that twelve o'clock would find them both sound asleep. After a stroll about the college grounds, taking care not to venture into the light but keeping well in the shadows, Jack announced it was the hour for the show to commence.
"Better let Nat do the talking," Jack advised Will. "Have you got anything to disguise your voice, Nat?"
"I can talk down in my throat."
"Better put a peanut in your mouth," Jack went on passing over several. "That will make you sound more like a desperate villain."
Accordingly, Nat stuffed one of the unshelled nuts into his cheek, and then, seeing that Will was ready, he led the way from the shadow of the bushes toward the window of the room where the assistants slept. It was a dark night, which was favorable to their plans.
As Jack had said, the only bar to entrance was a light screen in the casement. Nat raised this, and, listening a few seconds, to make sure the teachers were asleep, he crawled into the room.
Will followed him. For a moment after they had entered the boys did not know what to do. They were unaware of the method of procedure common among burglars. They were in doubt whether to announce their presence, or wait until the sleepers discovered it.
Chance, however, took charge of matters for them. In moving about Will hit a book that projected over the edge of a table. It fell down, bounced against a cane standing in one corner, and the stick toppled against a wash pitcher, making a noise as if a gong had been rung.
"Now be ready to throw a scare into 'em!" whispered Nat to Will.
"That's bound to rouse 'em."
It did. They could hear the sleepers sitting up in bed. Then Mr. Hall demanded:
"Who's there?"
"Don't move as you value your life!" exclaimed Nat, in his deepest tones.
"We-we-we!" began Will forgetting the instructions to let Nat do the talking. His companion, however, silenced him by a vigorous punch in the stomach.
"We're after money!" Nat went on.
There was a sudden click and the room became illuminated. Mr. Hall had pulled the chain that turned on the automatic gaslight. The two teachers were sitting up in their beds, staring at the intruders.
Nat drew his bicycle pump, and Will followed his example.
"Money or your life!" exclaimed Nat, in dramatic accents.
"Why—why—I believe they're burglars!" cried Mr. Gales.
"The impudence of them!" almost shouted Mr. Hall. The next instant he sprang out of bed and advanced on Nat and Will with long strides. This was more than the boys had bargained for.
Seizing Nat, Mr. Hall, who proved much more muscular than his build indicated, fairly tossed the boy out of the window. Fortunately he fell on the soft grass and was only shaken up.
"Get out of here, you scoundrel!" exclaimed the athletic teacher, making a rush for Will.
"D-d-don't h-h-h-hurt me!" pleaded the bold burglar. "I-I-I-I we—"
As Mr. Hall grabbed him the black mask came off and the instructor, seeing the lad's face cried out:
"It's Will Slade!"
He was about to send the burglar flying after his companion, but this discovery stopped him. At the same instant, the hidden crowd, thinking it was about time to do the rescue act, had started forward.
"Keep back!" cried Nat. "It's a fizzle!" and he limped from under the window as fast as he could.
CHAPTER IX
NAT'S INVITATION
The boys needed no other warning to make themselves scarce. They had reckoned without their host in planning the trick on the two teachers.
"Where's Will?" asked Jack of Nat.
"I guess they've caught him," the limping "burglar" said.
"That means trouble," put in Sam. "How did it happen?"
The conspirators were now some distance away from the Hall, and out of hearing distance.
"It happened because they weren't the milksops we thought them," said Nat; rubbing his elbow. "The way he grabbed me felt as if I was being hugged by a bear."
"Then they didn't get frightened?"
"Not a bit. Came right at me."
The boys looked back. The brilliantly lighted window of the teacher's room shone out plainly amid the blackness of the night. As the boys watched, they saw a figure climb over the sill.
"There comes Will," spoke Sam.
"I wonder if they're not going to report us," said Jack. "Say, It will be the first time a teacher didn't take an opportunity of getting even."
As soon as Will found himself on the ground he set off on a run, toward where he supposed his friends to be in hiding.
Jack gave the usual signal-whistle of his crowd, and Will, hearing it, came up quickly.
"What happened?"
"Didn't he make a row?"
"Are they going to report it?"
"How'd you get away?"
These were some of the questions to which the throng of boys demanded answers.
"I-I-I—c-can't t-t-tell h-h-h—."
"Here! you quit that!" exclaimed Jack sternly, thinking to frighten
Will out of his stuttering.
The rebuke had the desired effect, and, for once Will forgot to mix his words and letters.
"When he saw it was me," he explained, "he didn't seem to know what to say. Then he laughed and Gales laughed, and I felt pretty foolish; I tell you.
"Gales asked me who was with me, but Hall cut in and said he didn't want me to tell. I wouldn't anyhow, only it was white of him not to insist."
"It sure was," murmured Jack. "Oh, I can see trouble coming our way."
"Well," went on Will. "He looked at me a little longer, and I heard Gales mutter something about 'boys will be boys,' then Hall made a sign to him, and Gales went back to bed."
"What did you do?" asked Jack.
"Why, Hall motioned to me to climb out of the windows and I did, mighty quick, you can bet"
"Wait until chapel to-morrow morning," said Nat. "Maybe we won't get it! Never mind, the end of the term is almost here, and they can't do any more than suspend us. Though I hate to have the folks hear of it."
There were several anxious hearts beating under boyish coats when the opening exercises were held the next morning. The burglar schemers watched the two assistants file in and take their usual places on the raised platform.
"How do they look?" whispered Nat to Jack.
"Don't seem to have an awful lot of fire in their eyes," was the answer.
"Wait until Dr. Mead begins," whispered Sam, a sort of Job's comforter.
But to the boys' astonishment, there was no reference to the night's prank. The exercises went off as usual, though every time Dr. Mead cleared his throat, or began to speak on a new subject, there was a nervous thrill on the part of the conspirators.
"I have one more announcement to make, and that will end the exercises for the day," the head of the Academy said.
"Here it comes," whispered Jack.
"Will Slade and Nat Anderson are requested to meet Professors Hall and Gales after chapel," was what the doctor said.
There was a little buzz of excitement among the students, for the story of the escapade had become generally known.
"Glad I'm not in their shoes, but I suppose we'll all come in for it," said Sam, as he and the others filed out of the assembly room. Will and Nat remained, their spirits anything but pleasant.
Their companions stayed out on the campus, waiting for them, instead of dispersing to their rooms to prepare for the first lesson period. As the minutes dragged away there was a general feeling of apprehension.
"Don't s'pose they'll get a flogging do you?" asked Sam.
"Against the rules of the institution," replied Jack.
"Here they come," announced Fred Kaler. "I don't know whether I ought to play a funeral march or 'Palms of Victory.'"
"Probably the former," put in John Smith.
"Well?" asked Jack, as the two "burglars" came within hailing distance, "what did they do to you?"
"It's all right!" exclaimed Nat. "Say, they're bricks all right, Gales and Hall are! They took us to Dr. Mead's little private office, and we thought sure we were in for it. I didn't know how they recognized me until Gales gave me my handkerchief, which I had dropped in the room. It had my name on it."
"Skip those details!" interrupted Sam. "Get down to business. Did they fire you?"
"Not a bit of it," replied Nat. "They asked me if I was hurt in the— er—the—jump I took from the window. I said I wasn't. They then made some remarks about the night air being bad toward the end of the term, and they told us to go to our classes. Not a word about it. I call that white, I do."
"Right you are!" came in chorus from the others.
"We ought to send 'em a vote of thanks," suggested Sam.
"No, I think I'd let it rest where it is," came from Jack. "They want to show that they could have made trouble if they wanted to. We'd better let it drop. I wonder if Dr. Mead knows it?"
"I don't believe they told him," was Nat's opinion. "You see there wasn't much of a row, and it was all over in a little while. But it certainly is one on us."
To this they all agreed. Yet one good thing came of it, for the boys had a better understanding of the characters of the two instructors. They felt an increased respect for them morally as well as physically, and there came a better spirit between Jack's crowd and the two professors. The latter never even referred to the burglar incident, and, whenever any of the other students spoke in rather slighting terms of either of the instructors, Jack and his friends were ready defenders.
On account of preparations for examinations there was only a half day's session, the boys being given the afternoon off. After dinner Jack accepted an invitation from John Smith to go out in the Indian student's canoe on the lake.
They paddled about for several hours, and were on their way back to the boathouse, when a rowing craft, in which two youths were seated, came swiftly toward them.
"Look out!" called Jack. "Do you want to run us down?"
Whether the rowers intended that or not was not evident, but they certainly came within a few inches of smashing the frail canoe. Only John's skill prevented it. As the rowboat swept past one of the oars fairly snatched the paddle from Jack's hand.
"What's the matter with you?" he demanded angrily.
The only answer was a mocking laugh, and, as the boat was now far enough past to show the faces of the rowers, Jack looked to see who they were.
"Jerry Chowden!" he exclaimed. "I thought
he was in Chicago," and he recalled the threatening letter.
"Guess he's here to see the closing exercises," remarked John. "Who's that with him?"
"Adrian Bagot" replied Jack. "Well, they're a nice team. I shouldn't wonder but there'd be some trouble for some one if they stay long."
"Not many more days left," John observed. "Grab your paddle," and he swung the canoe around to where the broad blade floated.
In his room that evening Jack's meditations as to what Chowden's return might mean were interrupted by the entrance of Nat Anderson. He seemed quite excited and was waving a letter over his head.
"Great news," he exclaimed.
"What is?" asked Jack. "Some one left you a thousand dollars?"
"No, it's an invitation from my uncle, Morris Kent, who has a big ranch near Denville, Colorado, to come out and spend the summer vacation with him."
"Fine!" cried Jack.
"But that isn't the best part," added Nat. "He says I can bring two chums with me, and I want you to be one."
"Do you mean it?" asked Jack.
"Sure."
"Who else will you take?"
There was a noise in the corridor.
CHAPTER X
A MEETING WITH CHOWDEN
"Studying or talking?" asked a voice in the hall outside of Jack's room, and the door was pushed open to admit John Smith. Jack and Nat looked at each other. The same thought seemed to come to both of them.
"Him!" they exclaimed together.
"What's this, a game, or a joke?"
"A little of both," Jack said. "Tell him about it, Nat."
Nat explained the receipt of his uncle's invitation.
"We were just wondering who would make the third member of the party, when you came in," he said, "and we both decided on you."
"It was very kind of you to invite me," John said. "I guess I can arrange to go. Where is this ranch?"
"Near Denville, Colorado," replied Nat.
John started and looked at Jack.
"Nothing the matter with that place, is there?" asked Jack.
"No. On the contrary it couldn't be better," replied John. "That's where we want to go to settle the mystery—"
He stopped, evidently on account of Nat's presence.
"Oh, Nat knows all about it," said Jack. "I see what you're driving at."
"Yes," went on John. "Denville is not many miles from Denver, and at the latter place, you remember, we can go to the Capital Bank, and get the address of Orion Tevis."
"Yes, and then maybe we can locate my father," Jack exclaimed. "Say, Nat, this couldn't have happened better. It's fine of you to think of me."
"The same here," put in John.
"Well, I don't know of any fellows I'd rather have than you two," replied Nat.
"Thanks," his two friends answered.
"I'm going to write a reply at once," Nat went on. "I'll go to town and mail it to-night. I guess Dr. Mead will let me."
"Let's all three go," suggested Jack. "I'll ask permission. We've not been caught in any scrapes lately, and our records are fairly good. It's early."
Dr. Mead readily gave permission for the three chums to go to the village where the post-office was.
"But you must be in by eleven o'clock," he stipulated. "I shall instruct Martin to watch out for you, and if you are not in at that hour it will mean demerits all around. I would not let you go, only you have had very good records of late." On their way to the village the three chums talked of nothing but the proposed trip. To Nat it was enough excitement to think of merely going west. But to Jack, who wanted to solve the mystery of his father it meant much more. He hoped since the eleven years of voluntary exile were almost up, to induce his father to come east and make his home.
"That is, if I can find him," thought Jack. "I hope I can. First I'll have to locate Orion Tevis, to see what he knows."
"I'll be glad to get out on a range once more," said John Smith. "I've got enough Indian blood in me to feel cooped up in a house. It will be sport out there, riding ponies and seeing the cattle."
The boys reached the post-office about nine o'clock and Nat mailed his letter.
"It's early to go back," said Jack. "Isn't there something that we can do?"
"There's a moving picture show in town," said John. "Let's go to it for awhile."
This was voted a good idea. The boys enjoyed the scenes thrown on the screene, and were particularly taken with a depiction of a cowboy roping a steer.
"That's what we'll soon see in reality," whispered Nat.
They started through the village, and, as they turned down a quiet street that led toward Washington Hall, Jack saw a dark figure sneaking along on the opposite side, in the shadow of some buildings.
"Looks as if some one was following us," said Jack to himself.
As our hero pulled out his handkerchief there flew out with it a letter. The sight of it reminded him that he had promised Professor Hall to mail it that evening. It had slipped his mind, even though he had been in the post-office.
"I'd better run right back with it," said Jack. "Mighty stupid of me.
Well, there's no help for it, and I don't want to disappoint Hall.
He's a good friend of ours."
He picked the letter up, and held it in his hand to insure that it would not be forgotten again.
"I say!" called Jack to his companions, who were now some distance ahead of him. "I've got to run back and mail a letter. Go on and I'll catch up to you."
"All right," said John. "We'll walk slow."
Intent on rectifying his forgetfulness, Jack turned back on the run. He did not see three figures sneaking into the shadow of a dark doorway just as he turned.
"We'll have him just where we want him," whispered one of the youths who had been following the students.
"You're not going to be three to one, are you?" asked one of the trio.
"No, I guess Jerry Chowden is a match for Jack Ranger any day," was the answer. "You two can look on, and see me wallop him."
Jack made good time back to the post-office, and came hurrying along the street, whistling a lively tune. In the meantime the three plotters had walked ahead, taking care not to get too near Nat and John. The latter, however, had walked faster than they intended, so that they were a good quarter of a mile ahead of Jack.
As the latter came opposite the last building that stood on the edge of where there were a number of vacant lots, he was surprised to hear a hail.
"Hold on there!" someone cried.
"Who are you?" asked Jack, looking around. Then, as three figures emerged from the shadows and blocked his path, he exclaimed:
"Oh, it's you, is it, Jerry Chowden? Well, what do you want?"
"I want to get square with you," replied the bully, in an angry tone.
"And you bring two of your toadies along to help you, I suppose," said Jack, unable to keep a sneer from his voice.
"Look here!" exclaimed one of Jerry's companions. "I don't know who you are, except by name, but I'm not going to have you insult me. Jerry is a friend of mine—"
"Sorry for you," interrupted Jack cooly.
"None of your lip!" exclaimed the other strange youth.
"Jerry says he has a bone to pick with you," the one who had first addressed Jack went on. "He told us he was going to have it out with you, and invited us along. We're not going to take any part, you can rest assured of that, and there'll be fair play. But if you're afraid, why that's another matter."
"Who said I was afraid?" demanded Jack hotly.
"You seem to act so."
"I don't know that I ever did you any harm, Jerry Chowden," Jack said, more quietly, "but if you feel so why I can't help it."
"I do, and I'm going to get even," spoke Jerry, advancing closer to
Jack.
"Stand aside," demanded Jack, as the bully almost brushed against him.
"Not until you've given me satisfaction."
"What do you mean?"
"You know well enough what I mean."
"Do you want to fight?" asked Jack calmly.
"Certainly I do!" exclaimed the bully, aiming a blow at the lad in front of him. Jack stepped quickly back, Jerry nearly lost his balance and just saved himself from falling.
"You're a coward!" cried Jerry angrily.
"I am, eh?" cried Jack. "Well, if I must fight I'm going to do it for all I'm worth!"
The next instant he had his coat off, and was ready to defend himself. Jerry, nothing loath, closed in, and there in the darkness, illuminated only by the stars, the fight began.
Jerry was well built and strong, but he had little science. On the contrary, though Jack was not as muscular nor as heavy as his antagonist, he more than made up for it in his quickness and his ability to hit hard. Jerry came up with a rush, and aimed a vicious blow at Jack's face. Jack cleverly dodged it, and countered, landing on Jerry's chin with a force that made the bully see stars.
"I'll pay you for that!" he cried.
He would have done better to have kept quiet, since he took his attention from Jack's fists, which, in the darkness, were hard enough to see at best. A second later Jerry found his nose stopping a solid blow, straight from the shoulder.
"Ow!" yelled Jerry, in spite of himself.
Then he clenched with Jack, and the two went at it rough-and-tumble. Jack got in a number of good blows, and Jerry tried his best to get away and deliver some in return. He did manage to punch Jack on the body, causing that worthy's breath to come in gasps.
Back and forth went the fighters, the two spectators dancing about to see all they could of it, They kept their word not to interfere, and it was a fair struggle between Jack and Jerry.
Though Jack did his best he could not avoid getting some severe blows, and one, on his eye, he felt had done considerable damage. But he more than paid Jerry back for it, and, in a little while the bully was fairly howling for mercy.
"Help!" he cried. "He's not fighting fair."
"Don't be a baby!" Jerry's friends called to him, somewhat disgusted with his actions. "Give it to him!"
Jerry made one more effort to deal Jack a blow that would win the victory, but in his eagerness he lowered his guard. Our hero shot out a swift left, and it landed full on Jerry's chin. He staggered for a second, and then went down in a heap.
He was up again in a couple of seconds, not much the worse, but all the fight was gone out of him. He held his head in his hands for a while, and then fairly ran up the dark street, while his two friends, surprised at the sudden outcome of the fight, followed more slowly.
"I'll get even with you yet!" Jerry called back.
"Well, if you do I still will have the satisfaction of knowing that I trounced you good and proper," Jack said, as he held a cold stone to his bruised eye.
Just then, from across the lots there came a hail:
"Hey, Jack! Where are you?"
"Coming," was Jack's reply.
He heard some one running toward him as he began to pick up his coat, and put on his hat.
CHAPTER XI
A GRAND WIND UP
"What's the matter?" demanded John Smith, as he and Nat joined their comrade.
"Did you get lost?" asked Nat.
"No, only sort of delayed," answered Jack.
"What makes you talk so funny?" inquired John.
"I expect it's because my lips are swollen," was the reply.
"Did some one hold you up and try to rob you?" cried Nat, in alarm.
"Well, it was a hold-up, but no robbery," said Jack, and then he related what had happened.
"Why didn't you yell for help?" asked John. "We'd have come back."
"I didn't need any," replied Jack. "It was a fair fight enough. I guess he'll not forget that one on the chin in a hurry," and he laughed in spite of his swollen lips and blackened eye.
"Much damaged?" asked Nat.
"I'm afraid I've got a shiner," Jack replied. "They're sure to notice it at the Hall, and what will I say?"
"Steal their thunder," advised John. "Let's hurry back, and report at once to the doctor."
"Good idea," spoke Jack.
They made good time back to the academy, and arrived a little before eleven.
"Dr. Mead says I'm to mark down just the time you come in," said
Martin, the monitor.
"That's right," agreed Jack. "Is the doctor in his study?"
"I believe he is."
"We want to see him," went on Jack.
"Been fighting." said Martin to himself. "My, my! What boys they are!
Always into something!"
"Come in!" called the head of the Academy in answer to Jack's knock on his door, and the three lads entered.
"Ah, Ranger! And Smith and Anderson. Well, what can I do—Ha!
Fighting, eh!" and the tone that had been a genial one became stern.
"Yes, sir," admitted Jack boldly. "I came to tell you all about it, before you heard a garbled report from some one else."
Then he related exactly what had happened, Nat and John confirming what he said. The boys' stories were so evidently true that Dr. Mead could but believe them.
"That's enough," he said when Jack had finished. "I believe you. Don't let it—well, there, I don't suppose it was your fault. Fighting is a bad business—but then—well boys, now get to bed. You have plenty of hard work before you go in the next week with all the examinations. Good night!"
"Good night!" echoed the lads.
"That was the best way out," agreed Jack, when they were in the corridor. "Now I've got to get some vinegar and brown paper for this optic or I'll look a sight to-morrow."
Examinations held sway for nearly a week thereafter. But "it's a long lane that has no turning" and, at last there came a time when the boys could say:
"To-morrow's the last day of school."
The term was at an end, and the whole academy was in a ferment over it. The students were busy packing their belongings, the graduates had already departed, and there was almost as much excitement as at the annual football or baseball games with a rival institution.
The night before the day of the closing exercises, Jack's room was a gathering place for all his chums. Fred Kaler was so excited he tried to played a mouth organ, a jews'-harp and a tin flute, all at the same time, with results anything but musical, while Will Slade stuttered as he never had before.
"What will we do for a final wind-up?" asked Sam.
"Let it be something worthy of the name of Washington Hall," exclaimed Jack.
"We ought to work Professors Garlach and Socrat into it somehow," suggested Bony. "They're more fun than a bunch of monkeys."
"Get 'em to fight another duel," put in Sam.
"They'd suspect something leading up to that," spoke John Smith.
"Let's see if we can't make one outdo the other in politeness." suggested Jack. "I have a sort of scheme."
"Trot it out!" demanded Sam.
"I'll get Garlach to write Socrat a note," said Jack.
"Where's the fun in that?" asked Bony.
"Then I'll have Socrat send a little missive to Garlach."
"What's the answer?" demanded Nat.
"Garlach will write in French and Socrat will pen a few lines in German, and I'll tell 'em what to write," Jack went on. "Do you see my drift, as the snow bank said to the wind?"
"Good!" exclaimed Sam. "Go ahead."
The boys soon got together over the plan, and Jack was given plenty of suggestions to perfect it. He made up a number of sample notes, and then, being satisfied, he announced:
"Now I'm going to start in. Just hang around, you fellows, and see what happens."
It was about nine o'clock, but as it was the night before the last day of school, hardly any of the teachers or the pupils had thought of going to bed.
Jack went to Professor Garlach's room. He found the instructor busy packing up his books preparatory to the vacation.
"Ach! It iss young Ranger!" exclaimed the German instructor.
"Velcome. Come in. It is goot to see you."
"Thanks, Professor," said Jack. "I suppose you are all ready for the long rest?"
"Sure I am, Ranger."
"Well, we all are. I saw Professor Socrat packing up as I came past."
At the mention of the French teacher's name Professor Garlach seemed to bristle up. There was always more or less ill feeling between them on account of their nationalities, but of late it was especially acute.
"Ach! Speak not of him!" growled Garlach.
"I think he wants to make friends with you," went on Jack, trying not to smile. "In fact he said as much to me. He said he would like to write you a farewell note and apologize for anything that might have given you offense."
The German's manner changed. Jack was speaking the truth, though he had been instrumental in bringing the matter about. He had previously paid a visit to Socrat, and, broaching the subject of the cold feeling between the two teachers had suggested that it would be a fine thing if Mr. Socrat would say he was sorry for it, and would do all in his power to heal the breach.
It was no easy task to bring this about, but Jack had a winning way with him, and really made the Frenchman believe it was more a favor on his part to apologize than it was of Mr. Garlach to accept it. In the end Professor Socrat had agreed to write a little note to his former enemy.
"Only I know not ze Germaine language," he said.
"That's all right, I'll do it for you," said Jack. "I can fix it up."
"Then write ze note and I sign heem," said the Frenchman.
"So he vill my pardon ask, iss it?" inquired Mr. Garlach when Jack had explained to him.
"I believe that's his intention. Why can't you two meet out in the chapel and fix things up. Exchange letters so to speak. He's going to write to you in German, and you can write to him in French."
"I know not de silly tongue!" grunted Mr. Garlach.
"I'll write it for you," Jack said, turning aside his head to conceal a grin. "I'm pretty good at French."
"Den you may do so," said Mr. Garlach. "I haf no objections to accepting his apologies, and being friends mit him."
"Then here's the note," said Jack, handing over one he had prepared. "Sign it and be in the chapel in ten minutes. Mr. Socrat will be there, and we'll have a sort of farewell service."
"Fine!" exclaimed the German. "Und we vill sing 'Der Wacht am
Rhein!'"
"And maybe the 'Marseilles,' too," added Jack softly as he went to deliver a note written in German to Mr. Socrat. The missives had cost him and the other boys no little thought.
"Now, you fellows want to lay low if you expect to see the fun," cautioned Jack to his chums, when he returned and told of his success. "Garlach and Socrat will be here in about ten minutes. There must be only a few of us around. Bony, I'll depend on you to act when I give the signal."
"I'll be there," promised Bony.
A little later all but a few of the boys had concealed themselves behind benches in the chapel. Jack was out of sight but could see what was going on, A few students stood conversing in one corner.
Mr. Socrat was the first to enter. He came in, holding a note in his hand.
"It is now zat I prove ze politeness of ze French," he murmured.
A moment later Mr. Garlach entered from the other side.
"Goot effning, Herr Socrates," he said, with a stiff bow.
"Bon jour!" exclaimed Mr. Socrat. "Only, if it pleases you my dear
Professor Garlick, my name ees wizout ze final syllable."
"Und mine it iss Garla-a-ach, und not like de leek vat you eat!" exclaimed the German.
"They're off!" said Jack in a whisper to Sam.
"Your pardon!" came from Mr. Socrat. "I am in error. But I have here a note in which I wish to greet you wiz the happiness of parting. It iss in your own language!"
"Ach! So! I too have a missive for you," went on Mr. Garlach, somewhat modified. "It iss in your tongue as I belief, but I am not so goot in it as perhaps you are."
"It is charming of you," spoke Mr. Socrat, bowing low. The two professors exchanged notes, and then stepped over to a flaring gaslight where they could read them.
"Now watch out!" exclaimed Jack.
"Ha!" cried the German. "Vas ist dis?"
"Pah!" cried Mr. Socrat. "Diable! I am insult!"
"Dot Frenchman iss von pig-hog!" came from Mr. Garlach.
"See! So I will treat ze writair!" exclaimed Mr. Socrat, tearing the note to shreds and stamping on the pieces.
"I vill crush the frog-eater as I do dis letter!" muttered Mr. Garlach, as he twisted the slip of paper into a shapeless mass and tossed it into the air.
"Scoundrel!" hissed Mr. Socrat
"Vile dog vat you iss!" came from Mr. Garlach.
Then, unable to restrain their feelings any longer they rushed at each other.
"Ready!" called Jack, and the next instant the lights went out, leaving the chapel in darkness.