“For the love of molasses!”
“Who—threw—that—stuff—in?” came in a splutter from Andy, who had received a large dose of the soot in his nose and mouth.
“Ker choo! Ker choo!” was the only sound made by his brother, on whom the soot acted like snuff.
“Did you ever see anything like it?” burst out Jack, trying to wipe the soot from his eyes with a handkerchief.
“Who played that dirty trick?” questioned Fred, who had been the first to speak.
“Some joke, I’ll say!” muttered the young major of the Colby Hall battalion.
“Better say ‘choke,’” sputtered Andy. Then, as he looked at his brother and his cousins, he burst into a fit of laughter, and in this his twin joined.
“We look like a lot of Negro minstrels, don’t we?” was Fred’s comment. “Gee, what a mess!” he added, as he surveyed the table with its books and papers. “I guess my essay is spoiled.”
“Mine ditto,” responded Jack. “And I was writing it out so carefully, too,” he added mournfully.
Randy was the first to step to the door and open it. He looked up and down the corridor, but saw no one. However, a few seconds later two cadets put in appearance. They were Fatty Hendry and Phil Franklin, the latter a lad who had become a warm friend of the Rovers through a thrilling rescue on the Rick Rack River and later by sharing many perils in Oklahoma and Texas.
“Hello, there! what’s the idea?” exclaimed Phil Franklin, as he came to a halt and gazed at Randy in amazement.
“Are you getting ready for a masquerade?” questioned Fatty Hendry. “I didn’t know there was anything of that sort going on to-night.”
By this time the other Rovers had come to the doorway, and the two new arrivals gazed at them in added amazement. Then their eyes drifted to the center table and took in the wreckage there.
“Hannibal’s ghost!” ejaculated the fat boy of the school. “What’s this? It looks like lampblack.”
“It’s soot! Plain chimney soot!” answered Jack, who by this time had partly cleared his eyes. “Some fellow was mean enough just now to open our door and throw that bag in on the table where we were all writing and studying.”
“You don’t say so!”
“Some mean trick, I’ll say!” declared Phil Franklin, his eyes flashing. He stepped into the room. “An awful mess, eh? Your books and papers will be about ruined,” he added. “Ink with it, too!”
“The bag struck my inkwell and knocked it over,” answered Fred. “It certainly is a mess. I wish I knew who did it.”
“Didn’t you see the fellow at all?” questioned Fatty.
“I just caught a glimpse of him,” answered Randy. “He was in uniform and had a pillowcase or something of the sort pulled over his head and neck so that I couldn’t recognize him.”
“Must have been one of your old enemies,” commented Phil.
“I thought all of our enemies were gone,” answered Jack, who was still dabbing away at his eyes with tears running down his cheeks. “Slugger Brown, Nappy Martell, Gabe Werner and Bill Glutts all got out some time ago; and now Brassy Bangs, Paul Halliday, and Billy Sands are gone too. I’m sure I don’t know who can be left.”
“You don’t suppose it could be any of the fellows who wanted to be major of the battalion, do you?” asked Fatty.
“Or who wanted to be captain in place of Fred,” added Phil.
“No, I don’t believe any of those fellows would be mean enough to do this. They’ve all acted pretty nice since the election,” answered Jack. “It must have been someone else.”
“Going to report it?” came from the stout cadet.
“I don’t think so, Fatty,” said the young major slowly. “In the first place, we don’t know who is guilty. And in the second place, I have no desire to become a telltale.”
“We’ll fight this out ourselves! You just leave it to us!” broke in Andy. “The secret will come out sooner or later.”
“I think the best thing we can do first of all is to clean up this mess and then wash up,” said Fred. “Gee! I hardly know how to begin,” he added, gazing at the disordered center table ruefully.
“Here’s an old brush and an empty shoebox,” returned Jack. “We’ll brush the soot into the box as carefully as we can. We don’t want any more of it to be flying around. As it is, this room will have to be dusted and cleaned up thoroughly.”
“Well, if we can’t help you we might as well be on our way,” said Fatty Hendry. “I have some boning to do before I hit the hay.”
“And I’ve got some problems in algebra to solve,” came from Phil.
“I don’t see how you can help us unless you can find out who that masked cadet was,” answered Jack.
“Listen!” put in Fred quickly. “If it’s just the same to you fellows, keep this to yourselves, will you?”
“Sure!” answered Phil. “I won’t say a word if you don’t want me to.” And to this Fatty also agreed.
The soot had certainly made a great mess, and it took the Rover boys the best part of half an hour to put the room in order. Luckily, their school books were not damaged quite as much as they had at first supposed, and by dusting them off with care they made the volumes fairly presentable. The essay papers, however, were spoiled, and both Jack and Fred decided they would have to be written over again.
“I’m going to get up real early to-morrow morning and do it,” said Jack, and his cousin agreed to do the same.
Then the boys brushed their uniforms as best they could, and after that each took a bath, which made them feel better.
“I’m going to snoop around a little and see if I can get on the track of the rascal who played this trick,” announced Randy, after he had donned clean clothing.
“And I’ll go with you,” answered his brother.
It still lacked half an hour of time to retire, and the others availed themselves of this to start the new copies of their essays. Just as the “lights out” bell was ringing the twins came in again.
“Nothing doing,” announced Andy, with a disappointed look on his otherwise cheerful face. “All of the cadets look as meek as lambs.”
“Couldn’t spot a single soul who might have done it,” added his brother. “But we’ll get on to it sooner or later, you just watch me!” he continued determinedly.
True to their resolve, Jack and Fred were up a little after five in the morning and hard at work on their essays.
“We’ve got to make a good showing, Fred,” remarked the young major, “not only because we’re officers of the battalion, but because the folks at home expect it.”
“Just the same, I’ll be glad when vacation comes around,” remarked the younger Rover.
“Wonder what we can do this summer.”
“I don’t know. I suppose the folks are planning to send us up to Valley Brook farm—at least for a few weeks.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing old Aunt Martha and Uncle Randolph, not to say anything about Jack Ness,” was the reply. “But I wouldn’t like to stay on the farm too long. It gets monotonous.”
“Gee, if we could only go to some such place as Big Horn Ranch or Snowshoe Island!”
“Now you’re talking! Well, something may turn up before the school closes; who knows?”
Presently the gong sounded for the cadets to assemble on the parade ground in front of the school building. At once the two young officers donned their coats and their swords and lost no time in hurrying below, followed presently by the twins, who had to go to the racks in the lower hall for their firearms.
Five minutes later another gong sounded, and by this time all of the cadets, except one or two who had been excused, were assembled on the parade ground. Major Jack was at the head of the battalion, which consisted of three companies, and beside him stood Captain Dale, who usually was present to witness the conduct of the cadets.
“Battalion, attention!” commanded the youthful major, and at once the cadets of the three companies braced up and stood in long rows like so many ramrods.
“Present arms!” was the next command, and thereafter Jack put the battalion through the manual of arms. At the conclusion he looked inquiringly at Captain Dale.
“Very good, Major Rover,” said the military instructor. “Very good, indeed.”
After this came a slight pause, and then came another command.
“Battalion, attention! Forward, march!”
Boom! Boom! Boom, boom, boom! sounded out the drums, and then came a rattle and the shrill notes of the fifes and away marched the cadets, to circle the Hall and then enter the building. Here the guns and swords were discarded and the boys poured into the big mess hall, there to seat themselves at the long tables provided, each in his accustomed place. Then, after a blessing asked by one of the professors, they all fell to eating with great gusto.
Jack did his best that day to settle his mind on his studies, yet many times he found himself thinking of Ruth and her father and wondering what was the trouble that had come to Mr. Stevenson.
“It must be something out of the ordinary,” mused the young major. “Otherwise, Ruth wouldn’t have bothered to mention it. It’s too bad—and just when her father is under the weather, too!”
Of course, the Rovers and the others who had been out on the lake when the biplane crashed down were asked innumerable questions by their friends, and they had to tell the particulars of the mishap over and over again. Those who had gone overboard were asked if they had suffered anything from the sudden plunge.
“Not at all,” answered Randy. “It was just like taking a bath before Saturday night comes around, you know,” and at this some of the cadets who were listening grinned.
Among the boys to listen to an account of what the Rovers and their chums had to relate was Henry Stowell, a lanky young cadet who, because of the peculiar broad mouth he possessed, often went by the nickname of Codfish. Stowell was a regular sneak, and had often been a toady of some of the bullies who had from time to time been cadets at the Hall. He was thoroughly disliked by a large number of the pupils. On more than one occasion the Rovers had done Codfish favors, and twice they had rescued him from those who would do the cadet harm. But though Stowell had promised to mend his ways, he had soon slumped in his habits and become just as much of a sneak and a telltale as ever.
“Those people ought to give you a big reward for saving their lives,” said Stowell. “They ought not to expect you to do that for nothing.”
“We weren’t out for any reward, Codfish,” answered Randy promptly.
“Oh, that’s all right,” said the sneak, pulling down the corners of his broad mouth. “Just the same, a reward comes in mighty handy, especially when a fellow’s pocket money is getting low.” Stowell’s allowance was small, and it was a notorious fact among those who knew him best that he was continually borrowing from those more fortunate than himself.
“That sneak makes me sick,” declared Andy, when he and his brother were by themselves. “I suppose if he had been there he would have said, ‘Give me ten dollars or I won’t haul you out of the lake!’”
“He certainly is a poor stick; and all of the lessons we’ve given him haven’t improved him any, so far as I can see,” answered Randy.
It was not until three days later that the Rovers had a chance to go over to Clearwater Hall. In the meantime, however, the young major had taken it upon himself to call up his sister on the telephone.
From Martha he learned that Mr. Stevenson had gone home. His side was still very sore and Jack’s sister said that he looked more haggard than ever.
“I think he has something on his mind,” Martha said, over the wire. “But what it is I, of course, don’t know. Nor did I care to question Ruth. Perhaps she will tell you something about it herself.”
Because of this, Jack was quite concerned when he and his four cousins got a chance to ride down to Haven Point in one of the school automobiles. The chauffeur of the car, Bob Nixon, said he was going to stay in town two hours, which would give the boys a chance to run up to the girls’ school and see their relatives and friends.
As a usual thing, outsiders were not permitted at Clearwater Hall except upon special occasions. But there was an understanding between Colonel Colby and Miss Garwood, the head of the girls’ school, whereby the Rovers could visit their relatives almost any time. And this, of course, usually gave them a chance to see Ruth Stevenson and May Powell, Spouter’s cousin. Spouter often came also, bringing Gif with him.
The young folks met in the lower hall of the institution and then strolled out under the big trees of the campus. They talked about matters in general and also about Mr. Stevenson’s condition.
“I think he’ll get over his injuries in a week or two,” declared Ruth. “He certainly got bumped most dreadfully.”
Presently, as had happened before, Jack and Ruth walked off a little by themselves, and then the young major questioned the girl regarding her father’s troubles.
“Of course you haven’t got to say anything if you don’t want to, Ruth,” he added. “But if there is anything I could do to help I’d like to know it.”
“I don’t know how you can help us, Jack,” answered the girl soberly. “But daddy certainly has trouble—and of a most unexpected sort.”
“Something to do with his business, I suppose?”
“Yes and no, Jack. He has had a very valuable book of formulas stolen,” answered the girl.