“That’s queer,” he mused. “Maybe there was something in that first glass, although I didn’t see anything. Perhaps one of the fellows put a little salt in, just for fun.” Then he dismissed the subject from his mind.
Word had been passed around that the young major was to meet Reff Ritter in the gymnasium and a crowd of students collected to witness the proposed contest. Jack went down with Pepper and his other chums.
“How do you feel for the trial?” questioned Pepper.
“All right,” was the reply.
“Hope you didn’t eat enough to make you lazy,” came from Andy.
“Sure, an’ ye can thrust Jack to take care av himself,” broke in Emerald. “He’ll beat Ritter all to pieces, so he will!”
Reff Ritter came down with Paxton and Coulter, and lost no time in getting into his “gym. togs,” as the cadets called their athletic outfits. Jack speedily followed.
“Who is to go at it first?” asked Joe Nelson.
“That is for Dave Kearney to decide. He is to be referee and judge.”
“You can toss up a cent for it,” said Dave. This was done, and Reff Ritter obtained first chance to show what he could do. Each contestant was to have three chances.
Ritter leaped up on the flying-rings, and amid utter silence gave an exhibition lasting fully five minutes. As my old readers know, he was really quite a gymnast, and what he did brought forth considerable applause.
“Now, Jack, show us what you can do,” said Pepper, as the young major stepped to the front.
Jack leaped up and grasped the rings. He had been feeling very good, but now a strange sleepiness seemed to be overtaking him. He began to swing and to do various acts done by Ritter, but his efforts were, by comparison, awkward and clumsy.
“What’s the matter with Major Ruddy?”
“That isn’t half as good as what Ritter did.”
“Jack doesn’t seem to be on his mettle at all to-night,” whispered Stuffer to Pepper.
“Brace up, Jack, old boy, and show ’em what you can really do!” cried Pepper, encouragingly.
Jack heard the cries and did all he could to throw off that sleepy feeling. By sheer willpower he made a brilliant turn or two which called for hearty applause.
“That’s the way to do it!”
As Jack dropped to the floor Reff Ritter again mounted, and now the bully “put in his best licks.” There was cheering and hand-clapping. Ritter had already been awarded the first trial, and now it looked as if he would win the second also.
“Now, Jack, brace up and show ’em what you can do when your mind is on it,” said Pepper.
“You can do better than he did, I am sure you can,” said Andy. “Don’t go at it quite so slowly.”
“I—I’m feeling unusually dull to-night,” answered the young major. “I really don’t know what to make of it.”
“Maybe you had better postpone the affair, then?” said Stuffer.
“This isn’t going to be postponed!” cried Coulter, who heard the remark.
“Humph!” murmured Pepper. “Are you running this affair?”
“No, but Ritter is winning, and Jack Ruddy has no right to withdraw.”
“I am not going to withdraw,” answered Jack, gritting his teeth. “I am going ahead, and I am going to win.”
He sprang to the flying-rings and began to swing strongly. Then he made a turn and tried to make another. All at once everything seemed to dance before his eyes. He felt his grip relaxing. Then all became dark, and he felt himself falling—falling—falling—and he knew no more.
“What’s the matter with Jack?”
“He is falling!”
“Catch him!”
Such were some of the cries which rang through the gymnasium as the young major was seen to let go with one hand, swing limply for a few seconds, and then let go with the other. Pepper, Andy, and Dale rushed forward, and between them they broke the fall that otherwise might have proved serious.
“He has fainted!” said Pepper. “Let us carry him into the open air,” and this was done.
“I guess he is only shamming,” grunted Gus Coulter.
“That’s it,” added Paxton. “He was afraid of losing.”
“Major Ruddy isn’t that kind of a boy, and if you say he is I’ll punch your head!” exclaimed Dale, indignantly.
“Sure, an’ something is wrong wid him,” was Hogan’s comment. “He’s as pale as a ghost, so he is!”
Jack was placed on a bench outside of the gymnasium, and while Pepper ran for some water Andy fanned him vigorously. In the meantime, some small boys ran off to tell Mr. Strong and Captain Putnam of what had occurred.
“Jack! Jack!” cried Pepper, bending over his chum. “Jack, what is the matter with you?”
But Jack did not answer. His eyes were closed and now his arms and legs seemed to be getting stiff.
“This is something more than a mere faint,” said Stuffer. “I think we had better call Captain Putnam.”
“Here he comes now,” said Bart Conners. “Mr. Strong is with him.”
“What is the trouble here?” demanded the master of the Hall, as he and his assistant came up almost on the run.
“Something is wrong with Jack,” explained Pepper. “He was on the flying-rings—in a contest with Ritter, when all of a sudden he acted queer-like and fell.”
“Perhaps he had a rush of blood to the head,” suggested Mr. Strong.
“He didn’t act like that,” said Dale.
As Jack showed no signs of reviving, he was carried to the Hall, and Peleg Snuggers was sent off for Doctor Fremley, of Cedarville, who was the regular school physician. In the meantime Captain Putnam did what he could for the sufferer. His army experience had taught him a great deal, yet he was much puzzled by the case before him.
“I cannot understand this,” he said to George Strong. “He looked to be the picture of health this afternoon.”
“I know it, sir,” answered the assistant teacher.
“Maybe he ate or drank something that didn’t agree with him,” suggested Andy.
“He complained of the water at supper,” came from Dale. “I told him it might be the ice in it.”
“Our ice is of the best,” answered Captain Putnam. “It may have been the food, but if so, why has not somebody else been taken sick?”
After what seemed to be an unusually long time, Doctor Fremley appeared. He had driven at top speed to the Hall, and the team was covered with lather. By this time Jack had been removed to a private bedroom and undressed. He lay like a log, breathing heavily.
The physician was almost as much puzzled as were the others. But acting on the theory that Jack might have been poisoned by something he had eaten the doctor used a stomach pump. This brought up something of a peculiar bluish color, which surprised the medical man a great deal. He nodded his head knowingly and then proceeded to give Jack a dose of medicine from the little case he carried. In a short while the young major gasped loudly and opened his eyes.
“What is it, doctor?” asked the master of the Hall.
“I am not quite sure, but it looks to me like an overdose of French headache powders.”
“You mean the Saligne preparation?”
“Yes—then you know it?”
“I have some in our medicine closet.”
“Could this young man get at the stuff?”
“Yes. I will go and see if the box has been tampered with,” continued Captain Putnam and hurried off. He came back quickly.
“Well?” queried the physician.
“The box is gone.”
“You are sure you had it?”
“Positive. I gave a small dose to one of the servant girls only night before last. She complained of a severe headache, and it aided her in getting to sleep.”
“I see. Well, this looks as if this young man had gotten the box and taken an overdose.”
“Will he get over it?”
“Yes. But, let me add, he has had a close call from death. If I had not used the pump and given him that medicine to counteract the effect of the powder he might never have regained consciousness.”
This plain statement from Doctor Fremley made all present shudder.
“I don’t see why Jack should take the powder,” said Pepper. “He didn’t say anything to me about a headache. He told me he was feeling fine.”
“And he told me the same thing,” declared Dale.
“Perhaps he was a bit nervous over this gymnastic contest and thought to quiet his nerves,” suggested George Strong. “But I must admit that doesn’t look like Major Ruddy. I never knew him to be nervous.”
“He doesn’t know what nervousness means,” declared Andy. “If he took the powder I guess he did it by mistake. Maybe he thought it was for indigestion, or something like that.”
While this talk was going on in the bedroom, Reff Ritter was downstairs in the library, surrounded by a number of his friends. The bully was ill at ease. He had not expected the grave turn affairs had taken. Jack was certainly in bad shape. What if the young major should die? A shiver ran down Ritter’s backbone, which he tried in vain to conceal.
“What’s the matter, are you cold?” asked Coulter.
“No, I—er—I’m a little upset,” answered the bully.
“Well, you needn’t be,” declared Paxton. “It wasn’t your fault that Ruddy fainted and fell.”
“Oh, I know that.”
“It’s a pity he had to faint,” went on Coulter. “You would have won that contest beyond the shadow of a doubt.”
“Oh, I know that,” answered Reff Ritter, listlessly. He hardly heard what was said—his mind was in the bedroom where Jack lay. He wanted to go up—to learn the actual truth—but he did not dare.
“Shall we go back to the gym.?” asked Paxton.
“No, I—er—I think I’ll go up to my room,” answered Ritter, and started for the doorway before anybody could stop him. The others had never seen him act so strangely, and they looked at each other in surprise.
Ritter gained the hallway just as Billy Sabine was coming down the stairs. Sabine was greatly excited.
“What’s the news?” asked the bully.
“Ruddy took an overdose of headache powders,” was the reply. “The doctor is working over him, but they all think he is going to die.”
“Die!” gasped Reff Ritter, hoarsely. Then he staggered backward, clutched at the stair-rail, and sank heavily on a nearby seat.
It was not until midnight that Jack began to feel something like himself. He was still weak, but he could now breathe regularly, and Doctor Fremley pronounced him out of danger.
Pepper and Andy had begged to be allowed to remain with their chum, and they were in the room with Captain Putnam. Leaving some medicine to be taken regularly every hour, the physician departed.
“Major Ruddy, the next time you take any medicine beware and not take an overdose,” said Captain Putnam.
“I haven’t taken any medicine, Captain Putnam,” answered Jack.
“Didn’t you take some powder for headache, or for nervousness?”
“No, sir.”
“What!”
“I haven’t taken a thing, sir. Why should I? I felt first-rate up to the time I went to the gym. Then, all of a sudden, I seemed to get dizzy and sleepy,” explained the sufferer.
“I knew he hadn’t taken anything,” broke in Pepper. “I mean knowingly,” he hastened to add.
“Do you mean to say, Ditmore, that you think Major Ruddy took the powder without knowing what it was?” demanded the master of the Hall.
“Doesn’t it look like it, sir?”
“I didn’t take a thing, I tell you,” declared Jack. “Why do you say I did?”
He was told of what the doctor had discovered and was much astonished. He laid back on the bed, but suddenly sat up.
“That water! I felt funny right after I drank that water!” he cried, and then explained what had occurred at the supper table.
“I will inquire into this in the morning,” said Captain Putnam. “If somebody played a trick on you——” He did not finish, but his usually pleasant face grew hard and stern.
The school was very quiet that night when the door of one of the dormitories opened and a cadet crept forth and tip-toed his way through the semi-dark hallway. He advanced with caution, trembling greatly for fear of being discovered. The midnight prowler was Reff Ritter.
The affair at the foot of the stairs earlier in the evening had astonished Billy Sabine, but Reff had quickly recovered and said it was due to a cramp in the stomach, brought on by a false twist when performing on the swinging-rings. Then the bully had gone to bed—but not to sleep. Only one thought filled his mind—that Jack might die and that he might be accused of the awful crime. He shivered and shook under the bedclothes and could scarcely conceal his fear from his cronies when they came in.
Now the others were asleep and he was determined to find out the truth about Jack. If the young major was really dying—well, perhaps it would be best to run away from Putnam Hall rather than run the risk of exposure and arrest. This showed that at heart Reff Ritter was a thorough coward.
Scarcely daring to breathe, the bully tip-toed his way along one hallway after another until he came to the door of the room in which Jack lay. Listening, he heard a murmur of voices.
“He is alive, he is talking, he is not going to die!” he thought, and a wave of relief swept over him. Then, with bated breath, he listened to what the cadets and Captain Putnam had to say. When the captain prepared to retire, he sped back to his dormitory and got into bed.
“Where have you been, Reff?” came from Gus Coulter, who had awakened.
“I—er—I went for a—er—a drink,” stammered Ritter, not knowing what to say.
“Why didn’t you drink the water in the pitcher on the stand?”
“Oh, that’s stale and warm. I got a fresh drink out of the tank in the main hall.”
“Humph! I just drank from our pitcher and thought it was all right. Hear anything more about Ruddy when you were out?”
“No,” growled Reff, and turned over and pretended to go to sleep.
He felt relieved in one way, but not in another. His enemy was not going to die, but on the other hand Captain Putnam had promised a rigid investigation. What if he should be discovered? What if somebody had seen him taking the powder from the medicine closet, or seen him putting it in the glass of water?
“I’ve got to face it out,” he told himself. “I’ve got to face it out, no matter what comes. My word is as good as anybody’s.”
Captain Putnam’s investigation revealed but little. No person had been seen near the medicine closet for several days back, and what had become of the box of headache powder nobody seemed to know. Regarding the glass of water drunk by Jack, and the food eaten at supper, the cook and the colored waiters declared they knew of nothing wrong.
“Was any cadet in the mess-room just previous to supper?” asked the master of the school.
At first the waiters said no. But presently one scratched his head thoughtfully and said he now remembered that somebody had passed through the dining-hall after everything was in readiness for the evening repast. It had been somebody in uniform, but who he could not remember.
“I believe that person doctored that drinking-water, or my food,” said Jack, when he heard of this.
“Do you suspect anybody?” asked the master of Putnam Hall.
At this Jack shrugged his shoulders. Yes, he could suspect several—Coulter, Paxton, Ritter, and their cronies—but what good would that do if he could not prove somebody guilty?
The next day the young major felt quite like himself again and rejoined his chums. All went for a sail on the Alice, and on the trip they talked the affair over from every possible standpoint.
“If it was a trick—and I don’t see how it could be anything else—it is the most dastardly thing I ever heard of,” declared Pepper.
“That’s true,” answered Andy, “and the fellow guilty of it ought to be run out of Putnam Hall.”
“I suspect Ritter,” said Stuffer, “for he wanted to win that contest.”
“You may be right,” answered Dale. “But it is one thing to suspect a fellow and another thing to prove the crime. I wouldn’t say anything about it until I could prove it.”
“Wonder if it is possible those fellows with the green masks and hoods had anything to do with this?” mused Andy.
“I don’t think so,” answered Pepper.
Out on the lake they met Fred Century and a number of the boys from Pornell Academy. Century was sailing his sloop and told them he had had little trouble in righting the capsized craft and in getting her into trim for use.
“I still think the Ajax can beat the Alice,” he declared.
“Well, I’ll give you a regular race in the near future,” answered Jack.
“How soon?”
“I can’t tell you now—I want to have my mainsail altered a bit, and get a new tiller. As soon as I’m ready I’ll let you know.”
With Century were Will Carey, the youth who had lost the blue tin box, and Roy Bock, and a student named Grimes. Bock and Grimes had caused the Putnam Hall boys much trouble in the past, and Jack and Pepper did not like them in the least.
“Say!” cried Roy Bock, presently. “You fellows are so full of challenges I’d like to know if any of you can bowl?”
“I can,” answered Dale, promptly.
“So can I,” added Stuffer.
“Well, we’ve got a brand-new alley at our gym., and any time you want to get up a team and bowl we’ll be ready for you.”
“And we’ll wipe up the alley with you,” added Grimes.
“Maybe you will,” retorted Dale, who did not fancy this style of talking.
“Come over next Saturday afternoon,” said Roy Bock. “Bring over the best team Putnam Hall can put out. We’ll show you how to bowl.” And he laughed.
“Perhaps we will come over,” answered Stuffer; and then the two sloops separated.
“Bock makes me tired,” said Pepper. “I’d not bowl with him, even if I was good at knocking over the pins.”
“I’d like to beat the Pornell team,” answered Dale. “They are such blowers!”
“They like to blow because they are all rich boys,” said Andy. “I’d certainly like to bowl against them and defeat them.”
“We could put Emerald on our team,” said Dale. “I know he can bowl real well.”
“All right, go ahead if you want to,” said Jack. “I’ll root for you.”
“Then you don’t want to bowl, Jack?” asked Andy.
“No, you and Dale and Stuffer can manage this. With Emerald you’ll make four, and you’ll only want one more man.”
“Harry Blossom said he could bowl—and so did Bart Conners.”
“Well, then you’ll have the pick of them,” said Pepper. “I’ll do like Jack, root.”
There was a bowling alley in the Putnam Hall gymnasium. It was not a very elaborate affair, but some of the cadets got much enjoyment from knocking over the pins. Dale was something of an expert, often getting a strike or a spare, and it was but natural, therefore, to make him the captain of the bowling team.
When spoken to on the subject, Hogan readily agreed to join the team and so did Bart Conners. Harry Blossom said he was not in good condition, but would go along as a substitute.
On the following day Roy Bock sent a formal challenge by special messenger. He asked for a game on the Pornell Academy alleys on the following Saturday at two o’clock. He said the bowling room would hold about one hundred persons and half the space would be reserved for the Putnam Hall cadets and their friends.
Permission to accept the challenge was readily granted by Captain Putnam, and George Strong was placed in charge of the cadets to visit the rival school.
“When you are at Pornell Academy I want you all to act like gentlemen,” said Captain Putnam. “I want no tricks played, for Doctor Pornell does not approve of them.”
“Oh, we’ll be as meek as lambs,” whispered Pepper, and grinned to Jack.
Some of the students to visit the rival institution went over on their bicycles while others took the carriage and the carryall. Pepper went in the carryall, and on the sly concealed under one of the seats a fair-sized box.
“Hurrah, we’re off!” shouted Andy, as the carryall with the team and half a dozen others moved away from Putnam Hall.
“Everybody sing!” cried Pepper, and started up a song one of the students had composed some time previous:
“Do you want to know who we are?
We are boys from Putnam Hall,
We can row, we can swim, we can skate,
And we can play baseball!
Our school’s the best in the land,
Believe it, it’s no mistake!
You’d better come and join,
For we are wide-awake!”
This was sung to a lively air composed especially to fit the words. Then followed something new, made up by Pepper himself:
“Zip! Zam! Here we am!
Hikeadoodle din!
Give a cheer, for we are here
And we are bound to win!”
Cheering loudly and blowing their horns, the cadets of Putnam Hall swept into the grounds of Pornell Academy. They expected the students of the rival academy to be lined up, waiting for them, but in this they were disappointed. Only a few lads were outside, and they took but little interest in the newcomers.
“Hullo, what’s this, a frost?” queried Jack.
“Looks like it,” answered Pepper. “I told you to beware of Roy Bock and his crowd. They may be rich, but they are no gentlemen.”
“Where is your bowling team?” demanded Dale of the first student he met.
“Down at the gym. I believe,” drawled the student, and walked leisurely away.
“Now wouldn’t that freeze you stiff?” cried Andy. “Say, for two pins I’d turn around and go back.”
Some felt as Andy did, yet the crowd leaped to the campus and walked towards the gymnasium, located some distance away.
“Hi! hi!” yelled a gardener, who was fixing up a flower bed. “You can’t walk on this grass!”
“Oh, yes, I can,” answered Pepper coolly.
“No! no! It’s against the rules,” insisted the gardener.
“Oh, that’s it,” said Jack. “Will you kindly point out the way we can walk?” he added, sarcastically.
“Keep to the paths. This grass is only to look at, not to walk on.”
“Glad you told us,” said Pepper. “I might have picked a blade for my buttonhole. Andy,” he went on, “don’t look at the grass plot sideways, you may be taxed for it.”
The crowd hurried over to the gymnasium. There they found the Pornell students assembled. All the best seats facing the bowling alleys were filled.
“So you’ve got here, eh?” said Roy Bock, with no show of cordiality.
“Yes,” answered Dale, shortly. “Where are the seats you promised us, Bock?” he added, rather sharply.
“Why—er—I guess you’ll find them somewheres.”
“You promised us half the room here, and we want it,” put in Andy.
“You have always had half of our grandstand, at baseball and football,” put in Stuffer.
“You’ll have to take what seats you can get,” said Grimes.
“Not at all,” answered Dale, the sharpness in his voice increasing. “We are young gentlemen, and we came here expecting to be treated as such. Either we get half the best seats, or we don’t bowl.”
“That’s the talk,” said Andy.
“Don’t bowl?” cried Roy Bock.
“Sure an’ that’s the plain truth av it,” cried Hogan. “We came over to play wid gintlemen, not wid hogs!”
“Don’t you call me a hog!” cried Bock, in a rage.
“Sure an’ if the boot fits yez can wear it,” answered the Irish cadet coolly. “Me own opinion is that ye are afraid to mate us fer fear av losing the match, an’ so yez want to git us mad an’ dhrive us home.”
“I reckon that’s the size of it,” said Bart Conners. “They know we can walk all over them.”
A rather heated discussion followed, but Dale and his men insisted that they would not play unless given half the seats in the place and at last Roy Bock and his followers had to give in. Some who had seats had to give them up and they started to hiss the Putnam Hall cadets in consequence. But then Doctor Pornell appeared on the scene and quietness was speedily restored.
As already told, the team representing Putnam Hall was made up of Dale, Andy, Stuffer, Hogan and Conners. The Pornell Academy team was composed of Bock, Grimes, Sedley, Carey and a tall, heavy-set youth named Noddingham. It may be remarked that Noddingham was an expert bowler and had helped to win many matches. Bock relied on him to make a big run and turn the score in favor of their side.
The match was to consist of two or three games and the side winning two games was to be the victor. Of course if one side won both the first and second games, a third game would not be necessary.
Dale and Bock were the first to bowl in the initial frame. The Pornell student was perfectly familiar with the alleys and was fortunate enough to make a strike on the first ball bowled.
“Hurrah! that’s the way to do it, Bock,” was the cry.
“Keep it up and you’ll get three hundred!”
On his first ball Dale got six and on his second he knocked down two more, netting a total of eight. The Putnam Hall boys cheered at this, but not very loudly. Then Andy followed with a spare, and Grimes did the same. When Noddingham came up he got a strike, and once more the Pornell boys cheered lustily.
After that the game became pretty well “mixed.” The Putnam Hall cadets managed to get several spares in the seventh and eighth frames, and likewise two strikes and these helped somewhat. But Noddingham was there with four strikes, and Grimes and Carey had several spares, and as a result when the first game came to a close the score stood, Pornell 834, Putnam Hall 789.
“Hurrah for Pornell!”
“Putnam Hall wasn’t in it for a minute!”
“Told you we could beat them!”
And the cheering was loud and long, while many waved their caps and handkerchiefs.
“Boys, we’ve got to take a brace,” whispered Andy.
“We should have insisted on some practice on the alleys,” answered Stuffer. “Three trial balls was not enough.”
The second game was soon started and now the Putnam Hall boys began to score a little better. But so did the Pornell team, and during the sixth, seventh and eighth frames it was nip and tuck. But in the ninth Dale got a strike and so did Hogan, while the others got spares, and in the tenth Hogan added another spare and Dale got a strike. On the other side Noddingham, with a spare in the ninth, dropped to but seven in the tenth frame, and only one player got a strike.
Score in the second game, Putnam Hall 918, Pornell Academy 862.
“That’s the time we did it!” cried Pepper enthusiastically.
“Keep it up, boys!” shouted Jack. “You’ve got ’em on the run now!”
“Nothing but strikes and spares now, nothing but strikes and spares!” yelled Harry Blossom.
The Pornell Academy boys looked very glum, but they revived with the opening of the third game, when two of their side made strikes and one a spare. The Putnam Hall team did not do so well, but Dale covered a difficult “bridge” that won him loud applause.
“Sure an’ that’s a bridge wan man in a hundred couldn’t make,” was Emerald’s comment. “’Twas foin, so ’twas!” And he slapped Dale heartily on the back.
Both teams were now on their mettle and bowled with great care. Bock was very swift in his movements and twice Andy caught him overstepping the mark when delivering his ball.
“Say, Bock, we want none of that,” he said to the Pornell player.
“What?” demanded Bock, innocently.
“You overstep the mark when you run. You keep back, or I’ll claim a foul.”
“I didn’t overstep the mark.”
“I say you did.”
“So do I,” added Bart Conners. “I saw it as plain as day.”
“Humph! Maybe I did go over an eighth of an inch,” sneered Bock.
“You went over half a foot,” said Andy.
“Play fair!” shouted a score of Putnam Hall students. “Everybody watch the foul line!”
After that Roy Bock did not dare to overstep the line. As a consequence his delivery was not so good, and his score dropped behind a dozen points or more.
At last the two teams reached the ninth frame. Pornell was leading by seventeen points. They got two spares, one made by Carey and the other by Noddingham.
“Do your very best, fellows!” cried Jack, to his friends, and they bowled with such care and swiftness that they got three strikes and two spares.
“Hullo, it’s almost a tie!” cried Harry Blossom. “Go in and win!”
“Make every ball count now, fellows!” yelled Pepper. He was so excited he could not keep his seat.
Everybody was talking or cheering and the din was terrific. In the midst of the excitement the Pornell students made one spare and a seven, two eights and a nine. Putnam Hall came to the front with two strikes and two spares. Then the extra balls were speedily bowled.
Score of third game, Putnam Hall 1042, Pornell Academy 982.
“Hurrah! Putnam Hall wins the match!”
“Wasn’t that last frame great!”
Then a wild cheering ensued, in the midst of which the cadets from the Hall surrounded the victors and shook hands over and over again. It was certainly a moment of great triumph.
“I’m proud of you, boys,” said George Strong. “You did very well indeed.”
“Silence!” came suddenly from Roy Bock, as he climbed up on a bench.
“What’s the matter?” asked several, pausing in the midst of the general excitement.
“I claim a foul. Putnam Hall did not win that last game fairly.”
“What do you mean, Bock?” demanded Dale, indignantly.
“I say you did not win the game fairly,” repeated the Pornell student stubbornly.
“We did win it fairly.”
“Explain yourself, Bock!” called out several.
“I will. In the ninth and tenth frames three of their bowlers overstepped the foul line. I saw them do it, and so did Carey, Gussic and Grimes.”
“That charge is absolutely false,” cried Andy. “I for one did not come within three inches of the mark.”
“Nor did I,” added Stuffer, and the others of the team said practically the same thing.
“This is very unfortunate,” said George Strong. “You should have had an umpire for the line.”
“I was watching the line,” said a Putnam Hall student named Barton. “I saw none of our bowlers overstep the mark. But the Pornell men went over—until Andy and the others protested.”
“I say they did go over,” insisted Roy Bock. “You may call this match yours, but I’ll not give it.”
“Nor I,” added Carey.
“As you please,” answered Dale, with a shrug of his shoulders. “We won it, and did so fairly, and that is all there is to it,” and turning on his heel he walked off.
In the meantime Pepper had gone outside to the carryall. Now he came around to a back door of the Pornell gymnasium carrying the box he had brought along.
“Help me, Jack!” he called to his chum.
“What have you got?”
“A surprise for the Pornell boys. I was sure they’d treat us meanly, so I planned to get square.”
With great caution the two cadets took the box to a corner of the building and opened it. Then they took the contents up to a small gallery.
“Now then, let ’em go!” cried Pepper, and Jack obeyed the command.
Soon around the gymnasium half a dozen big black crows were flying. Caw! caw! caw! they cried in their bewilderment.
And as they flew around each crow dropped some cards which had been loosely attached to its wings.
And the cards read:
We are to be eaten by the Pornell Bowling Team.
“What’s this?”
“Crows, I declare!”
“They are dropping cards!”
“Say, this is the limit, isn’t it?”
“Hurrah, Pornell has got to eat crow to-day!” cried one Putnam Hall cadet.
“That’s right,” added another. “Hope they enjoy it.”
The trick Pepper had played made all the cadets laugh loudly. As for the Pornell students they looked dark and sour.
“This is an outrage!” stormed Roy Bock. “Eat crow indeed! I say we didn’t lose the match. They didn’t play fair.”
“We did play fair—and that’s the end of it,” answered Dale, and walked towards the carryall. Others followed, and soon all the Putnam cadets were ready to depart. Some bitter things were said on both sides, and several of the rivals came close to getting into a pitched battle.
“I will have no fighting,” said George Strong. “Come, we will depart at once.”
“But we won fairly, Mr. Strong,” pleaded Dale.
“I feel sure you did, Blackmore, and I give Doctor Pornell no credit for allowing his scholars to treat you in this style. But I want you to act as young gentlemen.”
At last the carryall, the carriages, and the cadets on bicycles were on their way. The bowling team was in the carryall and with them were Jack, Pepper and a number of others. Mr. Strong was in one of the carriages ahead.
“I declare, I think they were too mean for anything!” cried Andy. “I wish I had punched that Roy Bock’s head for him!”
“Yes, and Grimes ought to be thrashed, too,” added Pepper.
“I noticed that Fred Century kept rather quiet,” said Jack. “I don’t believe he liked the way Bock acted. When Bock claimed a foul he looked bored.”
“I guess he’s as nice a fellow as there is at that Academy,” was Stuffer’s comment. “Say, anybody bring any fruit along?” he added. “I’m half starved.”
“Was there ever a time when you weren’t half starved?” asked Jack, grinning. “Here’s something I brought for your especial benefit,” and he handed out an orange.
“Good! You have saved my life!” And Stuffer began to eat the fruit with great gusto.
“I had a sneaking idea they might provide a little lunch,” said Jack. “I think Captain Putnam would have done so.”
“Sure an’ Docther Pornell is too mean to do that same,” answered Hogan. “I’ve been tould he’s only liberal whin there’s money to be made by it.”
“That’s the way of some would-be high-toned folks,” said Dale.
“I want to know about those crows,” came from Harry Blossom. “Where did they come from?”
“Pepper set them loose—I saw him do it—he and Jack,” answered Bart.
“I’ll have to own up that I’m responsible,” said the Imp, with a broad smile. “I took the crows along because I felt almost sure Bock’s crowd would do something dirty—I know Bock so well.”
“But where did you get the crows?”
“I was talking with a young farmer one day and he told me how he had been trapping crows in his cornfield. As soon as this match was arranged I got the farmer to catch the crows and boxed ’em up. Then I wrote out the cards and fastened them on the crows’ wings.”
That evening the Putnam Hall cadets had a little celebration on the campus in honor of the victory. In this Ritter, Coulter and Paxton took no part, but all the other students did and they had a jolly time. Pepper and some others captured Peleg Snuggers and told him he had to make a speech.
“I don’t know nuthing about no speech,” said the general utility man. “You better let me go—I’ve got some work to do down to the barn.”
“We want you to tell us about your experience as a soldier,” said Pepper.
“I never was a soldier—I was a fireman.”
“That’s the talk!” cried Andy. “Tell us how you became a fireman, and rescued four live kittens from a ten-story burning building, Peleg.”
“Didn’t rescue no kittens. But once I rescued——”
“A three-legged bedstead,” finished Stuffer.
“No, it was a——”
“Broken-backed clothes horse,” suggested Dale. “Did the horse get over it, Peleg?”