The excitement among the rest of the scholars as to what the members of the accused society would do was intense, especially among the Greek letter girls, and little, indeed, was the attention they paid either to their books or recitations, their eyes being upon the gathering of boys.
In ignorance of what had been decided upon, when some of them beheld the five who had been chosen to wait upon Mr. Larmore, they instantly concluded that they must be the boys who had taken part in the smashing of the instruments, and quickly they passed the word along to the other students who were unable to look out of the window.
As some of the boys who had advised against sending the delegation had argued, when the knock sounded on the door of the principal’s office and the order to enter had been given, Mr. Larmore believed that the five students who filed in, had come to confess.
Accordingly, assuming a stern but injured manner, he rose and bowed to each of them.
“There is no need for me to say that I am shocked when I see who of my students took part in the mischief, but I am glad that you are men enough to come to me and tell——”
“Pardon me, Mr. Larmore, but you are mistaken,” interrupted Dawson. “We have not come to confess anything.”
“Eh? What?” exclaimed the principal, looking over his glasses at the speaker.
“I said that we have not come to confess,” repeated Dawson.
“Then to what do I owe the honor of this call?” Mr. Larmore asked, dropping back into his chair and assuming his most sarcastic tone and manner.
“In the first place, we want to tell you that no member of the Pi Eta society had a hand in the doings in the physical laboratory; and in the second, we wish to know who it was that charged us with the work.”
As he heard the statement, the principal’s face grew even more stern, and for several minutes he thrummed his desk without making any reply.
He had not asked the boys to sit down, and as they stood in front of him, they began to get nervous, shifting uneasily in an embarrassed sort of way from one foot to another as though unable to bear his gaze—and realizing how uncomfortable he was making the boys, Mr. Larmore kept silent longer than he otherwise would have.
Resenting such treatment, Dawson fidgeted with his collar, and then exclaimed:
“Will you——”
“Just a moment, please,” interrupted the principal, raising his hand to stop the boy. “I should like to know on what grounds you make your assertion that none of the Pi Etas took part in the outrage.”
“Because they have told me so, sir,” replied Dawson.
“Of course! How stupid of me. I should have known that did the great Tom Dawson ask who broke the apparatus, the guilty boy would have run right up to him. I made a mistake in not asking you to——”
During this ironical remark, the senior who had taken upon himself to defend the members of the under class society, grew very red.
“That’s not fair, Mr. Larmore!” he exclaimed, interrupting the principal.
“Very well. Why should you expect the boys to admit their guilt to you?”
“Because I asked them under Pi Eta oath.”
This reply was sufficiently illuminative to cause the principal to cast a keen glance at the spokesman.
“Do you really mean to tell me any member of that society would confess their guilt to you if you put them on their oath?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And may I ask what you would have done had any of them made such a confession?”
“Sent them to you, sir.”
Again did the principal look over the top of his glasses, and he realized as he never had before, what a power the Greek letter societies could be in the discipline of the school.
“But if no members of your club committed the outrage, who did?” asked Mr. Larmore finally, evidently voicing the thought that was in his mind.
“That, sir, we cannot tell you at the moment—but we will be able to later.”
“How, pray?”
“Because we shall make it a point to find out, sir. And as a first step toward that end we should be obliged if you would tell us who gave you the information.”
“I will do that—presently. First, however, I should like to ask you what punishment you think should be meted out to the boys who are guilty?”
“I fancy they won’t be ready for punishment for some time after we find out who they are,” exclaimed Longback.
Smiling at this answer to his question, Mr. Larmore exclaimed:
“I am obliged to you boys for coming to see me. I’m sorry to say, however, that I cannot accept your statements as to the innocence of the members of the Pi Eta society in regard to smashing the apparatus in the physical laboratory.
“My authority—who is no other than Tony, the janitor,—is, I believe, altogether too reliable.
“For that reason, I have decided that until I can learn who the perpetrators of the act are, to punish them individually, I shall assess the Pi Eta society the amount of the damages, which comes to seventy dollars, and until payment is made, I shall insist that the society’s room be closed.
“I shall be obliged if you will act as collector for me, Dawson. You can also announce my decision to all the society members, though I shall do it in school just before the noon recess.
“And now, young gentlemen, I bid you good morning.”
Mingled, indeed, were the feelings with which the boys heard this ultimatum from Mr. Larmore.
After he had dropped his sarcasm, they believed that he would at least be fair with them, and accordingly, when they heard his terms, they could scarcely believe their ears.
But they managed to control their feelings and, bowing curtly, turned on their heels and strode from the office.
Once out in the hallway they gave vent to their indignation.
“My word! Princy must have had something awful mean for breakfast to have accumulated such a grouch!” exclaimed Misery.
“But we can’t blame him so much,” returned Longback. “What sticks in my craw is that old Tony Farelli, who was janitor at Rivertown High when most of our fathers and mothers were students, should have laid the trouble to the Pi Etas.”
“He must have some good reason for thinking it was some of us,” returned Dawson, “because Tony has always been square.”
“Seventy dollars is going some,” declared Jerry. “It looks to me as if the Pi Eta chapter room will be closed for some time to come.”
“Shall you pay it? I suppose you’ll assess the members equally?” asked Harry.
“Pay it! Well, I should say not!” retorted Dawson, angrily. “Princy can nail up the door of the chapter room first!”
“Now, don’t go to making any threats, Tom,” interposed Longback. “The thing to do is to have a meeting of the Kappa Phis and Psi Mus to decide what shall be done.”
“How about us?” demanded Jerry. “Being the victims, it seems to me we should have a little say in the matter.”
“There you go again,” retorted Dawson. “You freshmen never can seem to understand that it is part of your training to do as your betters tell you. Inasmuch as just about all the Kappa Phis are old Pi Eta men, you can be very sure that nothing will be decided upon that will lower the dignity of any Pie Eater.”
While they were talking, the boys were standing upon the porch of the school building.
In the meantime, the principal had started on his rounds of the various rooms, immediately upon the departure of the student committee, and it was only a short time before he had learned that all the Greek letter men had cut their classes.
Angered at such action, Mr. Larmore was stalking back to his office, when he chanced to espy the committee members through the glass in the door.
Hastening his steps, he pushed open the inner door, yanked the knob of the outside one so that the door came open with a jerk, and faced the boys.
“Why aren’t the Greek letter students at their classes, and what are you doing out here?” he demanded.
“I can only speak for myself, sir,” returned Dawson. “I am out here because I’m not going to school to-day.”
Only the tone in which he spoke saved the boy’s speech from being grossly disrespectful, but the principal had sufficient understanding of scholars to know that it would not be well for him to press the matter farther, and without another word, he closed the door and returned to his office.
“Wow, but Princy’s mad!” ejaculated Jerry. “Let’s get hold of the other fellows and decide on our plan of action just as soon as we can.”
This suggestion met with the approval of the other members of the committee, and forthwith they hied themselves down the hill.
As they reached the foot, they met a crowd of boys hurrying toward them.
“Princy’s closed the Pi Eta room,” cried several of them, as they gathered about the members of their committee.
“We know it,” returned Dawson. “And what’s more it will stay closed until the Pi Etas pay seventy dollars, which Mr. Larmore says is the amount of the damage done in the physical laboratory—and that, I opine, will be some time in the far distant future.”
At first the other boys refused to believe this announcement, but they were quickly assured of its authoritativeness, and when its full significance dawned upon them they stared at one another blankly.
“I can also tell you that Princy’s very sore because the Greek letter men have cut their classes.”
“My word, but the prospect looks cheerful, doesn’t it?” commented Socker. “Where will the Pi Eta bunch meet, now?”
“The graveyard seems the most appropriate place,” asserted Misery.
“You’ll have to do without your chapter room,” laughed Dawson. “In the meantime, the Kappa Phis and the Psi Mus are going to have a meeting to decide what you shall do.”
“That’s awfully sweet of you,” mocked one of the freshmen. “I do hope you won’t decide on anything that it won’t be perfectly ladylike to do,” and turning to his companions he exclaimed: “Come on, fellows, let’s go down to the river and have a hockey game.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” countermanded Dawson, as a dozen or so of the boys started off to get their skates. “It’s up to you boys to find Tony, while the rest of us are holding our consultation.”
“But what’s old Tony got to do with it?” chorused several of the group.
“Everything, seeing that it is he who told Princy the Pi Etas were in the laboratory,” returned Longback, dryly.
“But there isn’t one of us Tony wouldn’t recognize—except, of course, Watson.”
“That’s it, exactly,” asserted Dawson.
“Can Watson prove an alibi?” demanded a voice from the outside of the crowd which had been constantly increasing, as the word had passed around that the delegates had concluded their interview with the principal of the Rivertown High School.
“Who said that?” demanded Jerry, indignantly.
No one, however, made any response.
“I’ll wager the fellow who said that thing is the one who broke the apparatus,” declared Paul.
“Of course, I——” began Harry.
“Keep quiet! Shut up! Don’t answer him! Forget it!” shouted several of the boys, effectually drowning Harry’s words.
“You mustn’t forget you’re a Pi Eta, and that a Pi Eta is never doubted,” said Jerry.
“Hear! Hear!” mocked several of the upper classmen.
“Seriously, though, you mustn’t waste any more time,” interposed Longback. “You noble spirited Pi Etas go find Tony, and we’ll have our confab; then you may meet us in the hall in front of the Psi Mu chapter room.”
The freshmen, however, did not wait to hear the last of the taunt, and breaking up into bands of two or three, they started out with the purpose of locating the janitor.
“Why not look for him at the school,” suggested Harry.
“Because, this is his day to go to Lumberport,” returned Jerry. “He always goes over there every Thursday to draw money for school expenses.”
“Maybe he hasn’t gone yet. Let’s go round to his house,” suggested Paul.
Quickly, the boys who were natives of Rivertown set out to guide their new chum to the house where the janitor lived; but when they arrived they were disappointed to know that he had been gone some two hours.
“Are you the young gentlemen he was expecting to bring him money?” asked Mrs. Farelli.
“Money for what?” asked Paul, surprised.
“I don’t know, sir. He just said some young men were to bring him some money and I thought it might be you, so I was going to tell you he said to take it over to Lumberport and leave it at Rector’s cigar store for him, as he won’t be back for a couple of days.”
“Then he hasn’t gone on school business, to-day?” exclaimed Jerry, with a rising inflection in his voice.
“No, sir.”
After thanking the janitor’s wife for her information, the boys left the house.
“Funny Tony should be going to stay away a couple of days,” remarked Paul, as he walked along.
Both his companions agreed with him, but as Harry had lived in Rivertown so short a time, he was little acquainted with the habits of Farelli, and so he could offer no intelligent comment.
“It seems to me we ought to get over to Lumberport as quickly as we can,” announced Jerry. “If we can locate Tony and pull the story out of him before anyone else gets to him, it will be some feather in our caps.”
“It seems to me we ought to tell Dawson, and some of the other boys,” declared Harry. “If there really is any crooked work they will be more likely to make the janitor tell about it than we would, I should think, considering the fact that they have been at the school four years.”
To this suggestion, our hero’s chums agreed, and quickly they betook themselves to the hall in which the room of the Psi Mus was located.
“You’ve got a nerve to rap at our door. Didn’t we tell you to wait and meet us in the hall?” demanded the boy who answered the summons.
“That’s all right. We’ve found out something you people ought to know, so you needn’t close the door in our faces,” retorted Jerry.
The statement that they had important information to impart had been heard by the leaders of the two societies who were holding the consultation, and quickly they called to them to enter.
“Well, what is it that’s so important?” demanded Dawson.
“We went down to see if Tony was at home,” began Paul, when he was interrupted by one of the others exclaiming:
“Of course he wasn’t. This is his day to go to Lumberport on school business for Princy.”
“I know that,” retorted Paul, “but we thought perhaps he might not have started yet. When we got there, Mrs. Farelli asked us if we’d come to pay Tony some money, for if we had, he wanted us to leave it at Rector’s, in Lumberport, because Tony won’t be home for a couple of days.”
“That’s just Tony’s way of trying to collect his debts quickly,” commented one of the boys.
“Then why shouldn’t he have told his wife to take it,” asked Harry.
“And that’s what he would do,” interposed Dawson. “I say it won’t do any harm for some of us to go over to Rector’s and see what’s up. In the meantime, you three boys keep your mouths closed about what Mrs. Farelli told you.”
To their disappointment, none of the freshmen were invited to become members of the party that went to Lumberport, but they trailed along, nevertheless; and when they trooped into the tobacco store which the janitor had appointed as a rendezvous, they were surprised to see Elmer Craven and Pud Snooks talking with Tony.
Their amazement, however, was nothing compared to that of the two students of Rivertown High when they discovered the presence of their schoolmates.
“Didn’t know you boys would dare come into a cigar store,” growled Elmer, scowling.
“So that’s why you selected it for your meeting place with Tony?” retorted Dawson, and then, ignoring the presence of the rich boy, the leader of the Kappa Phis turned to the janitor.
“Tony, I want you tell me which of the Pi Etas it was who broke the stuff last night?”
“It was this young man, here,” returned the Italian, nodding toward Harry.
“What do you mean?” demanded the accused boy, his face blanching. “I wasn’t anywhere near the schoolhouse last night. Just as soon as the fun was over at the chapter room, I went home—and to bed.”
“I can vouch for the going home part of it,” declared Jerry.
“And so can I,” added Paul.
“And my aunt can vouch for my being in the house,” continued Harry.
“You see, Tony, you must have made a mistake, don’t you?” pursued Dawson.
The charge that he had been wrong in the identification of the marauder angered the Italian and he did not hesitate to let the fact be known.
Dawson and Harry’s chums, however, refused to accept the janitor’s statement, and began to ply him with a series of cross questions which finally extracted the statement from him that there really was a possibility he had made an error because he was fully thirty feet away from the person he had seen in the building, and the only light he had was a lantern.
As these facts were brought out, the boys who formed the investigating committee exchanged significant glances.
But their surprise was to be still further increased.
With an unexpectedness that made them gasp, Dawson exclaimed:
“I want you to tell me, Tony, if it isn’t in connection with this identification business that Pud and Elmer came over here to pay you some money?”
Too amazed to speak, the janitor and the boys with whom he had been talking when the others entered the tobacco shop, glanced at one another.
And their action was accepted by the other boys as a tacit admission that the amazing charge made by Dawson was true.
“Well, why don’t you tell me?” repeated the leader of the Kappa Phis who had been acting as spokesman.
“Because it is a matter that does not concern you,” retorted the janitor.
“But you can’t deny it was about this laboratory business, now, Tony, can you?” pursued his interrogator.
“I haven’t been given any money by those boys,” protested the janitor.
“But your wife said you were expecting some from them,” declared Dawson, stretching the truth, that he might make his point more effective.
“They haven’t given me a cent,” whined the Italian. “They backed out!”
Aware that they had been discovered in their underhand work, Pud and Elmer worked their way toward the door while Dawson was quizzing the janitor, and when they heard his statement that they had gone back on their bargain, they made a bolt to get outside. But Jerry blocked them.
“No, you’ll have to stay here until this matter is settled once and for all,” he exclaimed, his face growing white and his hands clenching.
Realizing that resistance was futile, the two boys slunk back from the door and awaited the further action of Dawson and his companions.
“Why not let them go?” suggested Harry. “Mr. Farelli’s words and their actions have vindicated the Pi Etas, and it seems to me very poor policy to bring any scandal to Rivertown High.”
“But you forget that Princy has assessed a fine of seventy dollars on the Pi Etas,” protested Dawson. “While I’m perfectly willing to let the matter drop, I see no reason why the boys who are members should be compelled to pay out money for something for which they were not responsible in any way.”
Although Harry’s suggestion had met with murmurs of approval from the other boys when it had been made, the senior’s statement had brought back to their minds the cost of such procedure, and they were equally enthusiastic for the latter plan.
The thought that he could get himself out of a situation which had become decidedly embarrassing, since his schoolmates had discovered him in conference with the janitor and the bully of Rivertown High made Elmer come forward.
“Suppose I agree to pay the seventy dollars and let the matter rest? Is that agreeable to you fellows?” he asked.
“We ought to know how the trick was planned,” declared Jerry.
“Especially as it is Harry against whom the insinuation is the most serious,” added Paul.
“Oh, never mind about me,” exclaimed our hero. “The only thing to be considered is what’s best for the Pi Etas and for Rivertown High.”
This stand of the new student appealed to the rest of the boys, and at a sign from Dawson, they withdrew to a corner of the cigar store for a conference, leaving Harry, the janitor, Snooks and Elmer leaning against the glass showcase.
The entire proceeding had been distasteful to the janitor, who had filled his position for so many years and, believing that it would be best for him to propitiate the boy for whom the other students had taken up the cudgels, he riveted his eyes upon the new member of the Pi Etas.
“Do you know, I think I was wrong, sir, when I told Mr. Larmore that you were the boy I had seen in the building.”
“You most certainly were!” returned Harry.
“Oh, well, in a time of excitement, any man is apt to be mistaken,” interposed Elmer, lightly, “and so long as no harm has been done, if I am willing to pay the expense, I don’t see why the matter should go any farther.”
At this statement, Harry looked at the rich boy.
“So you don’t think it’s any harm to have such a charge made against you when you are practically unknown to the school authorities, and to the people of the town in which the school is located?” he asked.
At the question, Elmer flushed and before he could think of a reply that was adequate, Dawson and the boys with whom he had been talking, moved over towards them.
“We’ve decided that if Watson is willing to overlook the affront that has been put upon him, for the good of the Pi Etas and Rivertown High, we will allow you to pay the seventy dollars, Craven, and let the matter drop.”
“Very well, I will go to Mr. Larmore in the morning,” announced Elmer, his relief at the solution of the difficulty evidenced by the look which settled on his face.
“No, that won’t do,” returned Dawson. “Mr. Larmore appointed me as collector of the assessment, and if the matter is to be arranged as you suggested, you must give the money to me. I will pay him. In that way, no one but ourselves need know of the real facts.”
“But I shall need time in which to raise the money,” protested Elmer.
“How long?” asked the boy who had been acting as spokesman.
“A month, I should say.”
“And we’re to stand for the Pi Eta society room being closed for that length of time just to accommodate you,” demanded Jerry, stepping toward Elmer.
As though fearing an assault from his schoolmate, the rich boy drew back.
“Well, I might be able to get the money in two weeks,” he announced.
“That won’t do, either,” said Dawson. “Knowing you as I do, it is my opinion that you have the money right in your pocket this minute.”
“But think of the sum, seventy dollars,” protested Elmer.
“Which is nothing to you, if the stories that come from Lumberport and Springtown are true,” returned the senior, “and besides, I can tell from the way Snooks is acting that he has some money in his pocket.
“Now you two boys might just look the matter squarely in the face. You have deeply wronged Harry Watson—for reasons best known to yourselves. Watson is a member of the Pi Eta and a scholar in Rivertown High and is willing to overlook your actions, provided you clear the society from all odium.
“I don’t mind telling you frankly that it was only because I insisted upon it that the rest of the boys who came over with me consented to such an arrangement.
“But unless you pay the money at once and to me, I shall withdraw my objections to the true state of affairs being told to Mr. Larmore—and you all know what the result of such action would be.”
The tones in which the senior spoke were bitter and, fully as much as the words, they made Craven understand that he could not count upon the sympathy or support of the other Greek letter men.
And even Snooks, who had never been able to gratify his dearest ambition of becoming a Pi Eta, felt their sting.
“I’ve got fifteen dollars,” the bully announced. “If you have the rest let’s pay it, Elmer.”
This statement that the butcher’s son had any money in his pocket was a distinct surprise not alone to Elmer but to the other boys, and deeming that it would make the burden upon him just so much the lighter, Craven put his hand in his pocket.
“Very well. I have fifty dollars. With Pud’s fifteen that will make sixty-five. If the rest of you will raise the remaining five dollars among yourselves, I will pay it in the morning.”
In his talk, Dawson had been more or less bluffing, for he had not thought that even as rich as Elmer’s father was, he allowed him any such amount of money; and when he had heard the boy announce that he had fifty dollars in his pocket, he could scarcely restrain the exclamation of surprise that rose to his lips. But he managed to dissemble his feelings.
“All right. You place your money on the showcase, Elmer, and you put yours down, Pud.”
Quickly, the two boys obeyed and, after verifying the count, Dawson turned to the others.
“It’s up to us to make up the other five dollars. Come on, shell out?” he exclaimed.
“I have fifty cents,” and producing the coin, he laid it down on the showcase beside the other money.
The rest of the boys, however, not being accustomed to carrying money about with them, fidgeted nervously, then put their hands in their pockets, and the sum total they produced did not amount to over fifty cents more.
Enjoying their embarrassment, Elmer’s face suddenly lighted.
“You fellows have driven hard terms with me, and if you can’t make up the other five dollars, then I withdraw my offer to stand the brunt of the cost.”
In dismay, Dawson and his friends looked at one another, but just as they were on the point of admitting they could not carry out their agreement, Harry took out an envelope from his pocket.
“I have five dollars,” he announced. “And for the sake of the Pi Etas and Rivertown, I should be glad to put it into the fund.”
Even Elmer and Snooks could not but appreciate the magnanimity of this offer, aware as they were of the straightened circumstances of the new student.
“Good boy!” exclaimed the others. “We’ll make it up to you just as soon as we get back to Rivertown.”
Such strong dislike, however, had he conceived for Harry, that Elmer could not bear the thought of being under obligations to him to the slightest extent, and with an angry movement he thrust his hand in his pocket, pulling out a five dollar bill.
“Here! Take this,” he snarled at Dawson. “I was saving it out to get home on, but it doesn’t amount to anything to me, and I suppose that five dollars Watson has is his spending money for the year.”
The wanton brutality of the remark brought an angry flush to Harry’s face, and clenching his hands, he started toward the rich youth. But with no desire to have any trouble in the town across the river, Dawson, Paul and Jerry quickly placed themselves between the two boys, while the senior took the extra money from Elmer and wrapped it with that which he had, giving back to Harry the bill which our hero’s aunt had presented to him.
At first, the new member of the Pi Eta society was disposed to resent the act.
“Don’t be foolish,” exclaimed Dawson. “Craven and Snooks were the ones who smashed the apparatus—I don’t know exactly how—but you never would find them willing to pay a cent unless they were guilty; and it is perfectly right that Craven should pay all the money he can rake or scrape together.”
At this stinging comment, Elmer opened his mouth as though he intended making a retort; but second thought showed him the futility of so doing, and buttoning up his coat, he nodded towards Snooks and left the store with the bully.
As soon as they were gone, the senior turned upon the janitor.
“Tony, I never thought to find you in such a mess as this.”
With tears in his eyes, the Italian spoke to the boys:
“I didn’t want to, but my little girl, she is sick, and I need some money; and so when Elmer and Pud come to me and tell me they would give me fifty dollars if I will say Watson broke the stuff, I talked it over with my woman, and she say take it.”
This confession of the janitor’s, substantiating the idea which the boys had formed of the incident, together with the thought that his temptation had come from the fact that his child was ill, caused them to forego any further cross-questioning of the janitor, and they took their departure from the cigar store.
The return to Rivertown was much in the nature of an ovation for Harry, for not long was it after the committee appointed by the Greek letter societies started out than word of their purpose spread among the scholars.
With the letting out of school for the noon recess, the girls who were members of the Gamma Gammas and the Lambda Nus learned of the action of the boys, and forthwith they decided to cut classes for the rest of the day.
Particularly caustic in their comments upon the action of the principal were Viola and Nettie; but as the older girls counseled a waiting policy, the two freshmen were prevented from doing anything that would further complicate the unfortunate case.
The action of the girls depleted the ranks of the school still further. It was with difficulty the instructors could maintain any sort of discipline during the afternoon, and when the last session was over for the day, the boys and girls hastened down to the river, put on their skates and started across to the town of Lumberport.
Before they had reached the other side of the river, however, they met Dawson and the other boys returning, and as they saw the happy expression on their faces, their curiosity was aroused to a high pitch.
But though they plied them with questions, they were unable to extract any more satisfactory explanation from them than that the matter had been settled.
Loud were the protests at this terse announcement and the various friends of the boys who had gone across the river had drawn them aside and were striving their utmost to learn the real facts, when there was a loud shout from up the river.
Turning, the members of the Rivertown High beheld the red and white banners which were the colors of the high school at Springtown, and almost simultaneously with the recognition of the identity of the approaching crowd, they heard the artillery like rattle of the school cheer.
“What’s the matter with Springtown? What’s up now?” exclaimed several of the boys.
“Give them the Rivertown cheer. All together now, everybody! Act as though you were alive,” shouted Dawson, and swinging his arms in lieu of a baton he led the cheer, whose volume rolled up the river, breaking with defiance in the ears of the down-coming horde of skaters.
“The quickest way to find out what’s doing is to go up to meet them,” announced Jerry.
And without more ado, he and a few of the other boys started off up the river.
Massed together as though they were defenders of a town repelling a hostile attack, the other boys and girls assumed a compact mass, watching the members of their own school as they sped toward the phalanx of the neighboring town.
No sooner had they noted the movement of the leaders among the members of Rivertown High, than the Springtownians checked their advance, and after a few moment’s hesitation, they sent part of their number to meet the delegation from Rivertown.
The parley between the two groups was short; then the Rivertown members turned on their skates and started back to their schoolmates at top speed.
“Springtown’s come down for a race,” one of the boys announced. “Shall we give it to them?”
For years the schools in the neighboring towns were rivals in all branches of athletics, and though the percentage of victories had been with the scholars at the head of the river, there never was a time when they could propose any game that the boys and girls of Rivertown were not eager to take up the challenge.
Accordingly when the member of the high school on the bluff asked if his mates wished to accept the challenge of the Springtownians there was a mighty shout of “Yes.”
“But who’ll represent us?” exclaimed three or four of the seniors.
“Craven isn’t in the bunch, Longback has a grouch, and Snooks is missing too,” exclaimed Misery. “Why not call the boys’ race off, and let Annabel represent Rivertown?”
“Now don’t get funny,” admonished Dawson. “There are plenty of us here who can uphold old Rivertown.”
“Who?” demanded several voices.
“Jerry and Paul—and Watson,” added another voice.
“How about it. You fellows want to make a try?”
“Who are we going up against?”
“The very best men in Springtown.”
“Do they race fair?” asked Harry.
“Yes.”
“Can’t you get anyone else to go against them in my place?”
“It doesn’t seem so. You heard what Misery said.”
This parley was interrupted by the arrival of the advance guard of the scholars who had come down to challenge their rivals at Rivertown.
“Are you going to let us win by default?” asked one of the boys from Springtown.
“Not so you’d notice it. When it comes to count the winners, Springtown won’t have a look in!” returned Dawson.
His words brought a cheer of encouragement from his schoolmates.
“Then let’s get busy and start the races right away,” announced the spokesman for the Springtownians.
“All right. Bring the men out. We have only three. How long is the race going to be?”
In response to this question various were the exclamations of opinion; some clamored for two miles, others asserting that one was enough. When they could come to no definite conclusion, several of the leaders from each of the schools got together to try to settle the distance.
Their attempt, however, was as unsuccessful as had been those of the scholars en masse; and finally Socker Gales exclaimed:
“Let’s toss a coin!”
The suggestion met with instant approval from both of the opposing forces.
Quickly Dawson drew a coin from his pocket, balancing it on his thumb and forefinger.
“I’ll toss. Springtown, you call!” he exclaimed.
High in the air he spun the coin, and as it whirled over and over, the leader of the Springtownians, shouted: “Tails!”
With a sharp click the bit of money struck the ice, and then as though driven by perverseness, it rolled some twenty feet, finally striking a depression, into which it fell.
The instant the coin had struck the ice and started on it’s runaway career, the boys who had been watching the tossing, set after it; but fleet as they were, it managed to elude them and had settled in the ice crevice before they had overtaken it.
“Which is it?” called the others, as two of the Rivertown boys reached the spot.
“Heads,” they replied.
“That means you lose, Springtown!” chorused the rest of the Rivertown scholars.
But the challengers from up the river refused to accept the fall of the coin as an omen.
“Which distance are you going to take?” demanded the leader of the visitors.
“Wait until I talk with the boys who are going to race,” announced Dawson.
“We’ll make it two miles!” he finally exclaimed, after a brief consultation.
This announcement met with varied exclamations from the Rivertown students.
“Paul and Jerry never can stand that distance in the world,” shouted several of their mates.
“Never mind, that’s Watson’s pet race, and all we want to do is win it,” declared Misery. “This isn’t a meet where we have to have points to win.”
But despite his confident announcement, there were many of the scholars who scoffed at the thought that the boy who had so lately come to Rivertown would be able to defeat the man who had twice won the race for Springtown.
Realizing what was in their minds, several of the seniors skated about among the Rivertown students.
“Don’t sulk!” they exclaimed. “Show some life! We chose the two miles, and it’s up to you people to give some support to the boys who are going to race! Don’t act as though you thought we were beaten already. Come on now, rip out a cheer!”
Under the lash of the words, the boys and girls of Rivertown let out cheer after cheer, winding up the various school cries with the names of the boys who were to represent it’s honor.
Valiantly, Springtown came back, but not enough scholars had come down the river to produce a volume as great as that of the home town, and they finally abandoned their efforts to out-cheer their rivals.
The preliminaries having been arranged while the battle of voices was being fought out, the student leaders had drawn a line on the ice from one of the old landmarks which had been used on the river for the races between the two schools for generations, while three or four others started up the ice to stand the stakes at the finish line, which was also indicated by long established posts.
As soon as the latter had taken their position, the contestants were lined up.
Having lost the choice of distance, according to the traditions of the races between the two schools, the task of starting the race fell to Springtown, and Dick Wenzel, the captain of the baseball team, was proclaimed the man to give the word.
Separating into groups which lined up, each about their representatives, the scholars again gave vent to cheers, and when they finally subsided, Wenzel warned the racers to be ready, then sent them away.
During the time that they were waiting, Paul and Jerry had posted Harry as well as they could on the tricks of their opponents; and the three boys had come to the conclusion that inasmuch as the race was to be for two miles, it would be best to let the visitors set the pace.
The boys from the head of the river, however, quickly fell to the game and slackened their speed.
“Wake up! Put some ginger into it. This isn’t a walking match!” shouted the boys and girls who were following the contestants, irrespective of the schools to which they belonged.
During the first few hundred yards, Harry had sized up his opponents closely, noting from the short strokes they took, that while they could maintain a high rate of speed for a short distance, they were more than likely to exhaust themselves before they could go the two miles; and when he heard the taunts of his schoolmates, he decided to take a chance of being outskated by the rivals of Rivertown.
All six of the boys were skating along leisurely, when of a sudden Harry put on a burst of speed, shooting to the front; and before the others had realized what had happened he had opened a space of fifty feet between him and his competitors.
“After him! After him! Don’t let him get too much of a lead on you,” warned the Springtown students, dismayed to think anyone could make such a gain on their representatives.
The glee of the Rivertown scholars was in proportion to the anxiety of their rivals.
But though the representatives of Springtown responded to the demands of their mates, Harry had a flying lead and, exert themselves as they would, the boys from up the river could not gain on him.
His arms and feet swinging in perfect rhythm, Harry sped over the smooth ice, the shouts of his schoolmates ringing in his ears.
“You’ve got a good lead, slow up!” shouted those of his mates who were nearest to him, while others cautioned him to take it easy, in the fear that he could not last the full distance. But the boy knew himself better than they, and kept on at his top speed, unmindful of their advice.
Hard behind him came a Springtown skater, but could not cut down his lead appreciably.
Barely able to hold their own with the others, Paul and Jerry struggled along, and as they saw that their chum had so great an advantage they devoted their energies to coaching him.
“You’ve got them all puffing, and there’s only a quarter more to go! There isn’t one of them who can spurt! Just take care of yourself and don’t fall!” they shouted from time to time.
As the cries reached his ears, Harry raised his head, looked for the finish line, and to his delight saw it even nearer than he supposed.
The sight made him feel so happy that he determined to give a still greater exhibition of his speed; and striking out as though he were perfectly fresh, instead of having skated more than a mile and three-quarters, he raced over the ice, opening farther and farther the distance that separated him from his Springtown rivals.
His spurt had been greeted with gasps of surprise from his schoolmates, and many were the shouts hurled at him to be careful lest he exhaust himself and get beaten out at the finish. When they saw he was skating strong and steadily, however, the Rivertown boys and girls gave vent to the wildest glee, and howled and cheered, breaking their schools yells with rhythmic chants of:
“Watson! Watson! Watson!”