Dave Porter and His Rivals: or, The Chums and Foes of Oak Hall

"Some other time, Shadow," answered Buster. "We want to hear about Dave's trip West, and about what he did to Link Merwell."

"Before I tell you about that, let me give you a piece of news," said Dave. And then he related how he and the others had met Merwell and Jasniff with Nat Poole, and how the two former youths were going to Rockville Military Academy. As he had anticipated, this created quite a sensation, and a lively discussion followed, which was kept up even after the crowd got aboard the train which would carry them to Oakdale.

"Well, if Rockville wants such fellows it can have 'em," was Buster Beggs's comment. "I, for one, am glad they are out of Oak Hall."

"I know one fellow who will be glad they are gone," said Shadow. "That is Gus Plum."

"Yes, indeed," answered Dave, for he well remembered what influence Merwell and even Jasniff had exercised over Plum when the youth had found his appetite for liquor almost too strong for him.

Of course Dave had to go over many of his Western adventures, and the others listened with keen interest to all he had to tell. When he mentioned the theft of the horses at the ranch, and how Link Merwell had been mixed up with the thieves, more than one shook his head.

"According to that, Link and Nick are a team," said Luke Watson. "Dave, you had better be on your guard. They won't hesitate to play you some foul trick."

Oakdale, a small but prosperous town, was reached at last, and the schoolboys piled out of the train, along with a few other passengers.

"Hello, there is Polly Vane!" cried Dave, catching sight of a slender lad with a girlish face. "How are you, Polly?"

"Oh, it's Dave Porter!" answered Bertram Vane, in a low but pleased voice. He held out his slender hand. "I am delighted to see you back! How tanned you are, and how strong-looking!"

"It was the mountain air did it, Polly. By the way, is Horsehair around?" he continued, with a glance beyond the depot platform.

"Oh, yes! Here he comes now!" And as Polly spoke the big carryall of the school swung into view, with Jackson Lemond, commonly called "Horsehair," on the driver's seat. The boys made a rush for the carryall, throwing their suit-cases in the rack on top, and piling inside one over the other.

"Horsehair, you're looking fine!"

"How's the widow, Horsehair? Heard you were going to marry a widow with eight children."

"Nine children, Buster, – don't drop any of the family like that."

"Nothing like getting a ready-made family while you are at it, Horsehair."

"I heard the widow was a suffragette, Horsehair. Is that right?"

"If she's that, Horsehair, she'll make you mind the children and wash dishes – better beware!"

"Oh, don't worry about that. Horsehair is an expert at washing dishes, and at minding babies he once took first prize at a county fair; didn't you, Horsehair?"

"Say, you!" roared the carryall driver, his face as red as a beet. "You quit your knockin'! I ain't gittin' married to no widder, nor nobody else! An' I ain't washin' dishes an' mindin' babies nuther! Such boys!" And with a crack of his whip he started up the turnout so suddenly that half the lads were pitched into the laps of the other half.

It was certainly a jolly crowd that rolled over the well-kept highway toward Oak Hall. They knew that many hard lessons awaited them, and that, once school opened, discipline would be strict, but just now all were in high spirits. To the tune of "Auld Lang Syne" Luke Watson started up the school song, and the others joined in lustily:

"Oak Hall we never shall forget,No matter where we roam,It is the very best of schools,To us it's just like home!Then give three cheers, and let them ringThroughout this world so wide,To let the people know that weElect to here abide!"

"That's the stuff!" cried Ben, slangily. "Now, then, for the field cry," and then came the Oak Hall cheer:

"Baseball!Football!Oak HallHas the call!Biff! Boom! Bang! Whoop!"

"I think we ought to display the school colors!" cried Dave. "Anybody got a flag?"

"Here is one," answered Polly Vane, from his seat in front, beside the driver. "But I haven't got a stick for it."

"Never mind, Shadow's fishing rod will do," answered Dave. "Shadow, hand it over."

"All right, but don't break the rod," said Shadow. "It cost me four bones."

The rod was put together, and the school colors fastened to the top. Then the rod was thrust out of a side window of the carryall and waved in the air, first by one student and then another.

"Look out, that you don't hit nobody with that fishin' pole!" warned the carryall driver, as the turnout swung around a bend of the road.

He had scarcely spoken when a buggy came into view, driven by a tall, serious-looking individual, wearing a high silk hat. The buggy swung forward quickly, directly in line with the fishing rod, and before the boys could haul the colors in the rod hit the silk hat, sending it whirling into the bushes beside the roadway.

CHAPTER VIII

ABOUT SOME NEW STUDENTS

"Hi! hi! what's the meaning of this outrage!" roared the individual in the buggy, as he brought his horse to a standstill. "Do you want to kill me?"

"Who is it? Is he hurt?" questioned Dave, quickly.

"I don't know," answered Ben. "The rod took off his hat, but whether it struck his head or not remains to be seen."

"Wot's the trouble back there?" demanded Jackson Lemond, as he succeeded in bringing his team to a halt.

"Trouble is, we hit that man with the rod," answered Buster.

"Humph! I told you to be careful," grumbled the carryall driver. "It don't pay to act like a passel o' wildcats, nohow!"

"It's too bad it happened," said Dave, and leaped to the ground and ran back to where the buggy stood, with the driver glaring at them savagely. The other students followed.

"Are you hurt?" asked Dave, anxiously. The man in the buggy was a total stranger to him.

"Hurt? I don't know whether I am or not. What do you mean by knocking off my hat with that stick?"

"It was an accident, sir. We had our school colors on the fishing rod and were waving them in the air. We didn't expect to hit anybody."

"Bah! you are a lot of rowdies!" growled the man. "Give me my hat!" And he pointed to where the head covering rested on some bushes.

"There you are," said Ben, restoring the hat to its owner. "But we are not rowdies – it was purely an accident," he added, with a little flash out of his clear eyes.

"Bah, I know schoolboys! They think it smart to be tough!" The man looked his silk hat over. "I ought to make you buy me a new hat."

"That doesn't seem to be damaged any," said Buster, as he looked the tile over. "If it is, of course we'll make it right," he added, hastily. He and Luke were holding the fishing rod at the time of the accident.

"Do you boys belong at Oak Hall?" demanded the man, smoothing down the roughed-up silk hat with his forearm.

"Yes," answered Dave.

"I thought so. Well, if this hat is cracked or anything like that I'll notify the master of the school, and make you get me a new hat. Maybe it will be a lesson to you, to be more careful."

"Let me see the hat, please," said Luke.

"What for?"

"I wish to see if it is really damaged."

"If it is, I'll let you know quick enough, don't fear."

"I want to see it now. I am not going to pay for a new hat if this one is all right."

"Ha! so you don't want to take my word for it, eh?" roared the man.

"I want to look the hat over," answered Luke, stubbornly.

"So do I," added Buster.

"I'll not give you the hat – to play more tricks with. I shall take it to a hat dealer, and if he says it is injured, I'll call at the school about it." And having thus delivered himself the man in the buggy put the silk hat on his head, spoke to his horse, and whirled on down the road in the direction of Rockville.

"Talk about a peppery individual!" cried Ben. "He certainly is one."

"I don't think the hat was damaged at all," said Dave. "It will simply be a hold-up – if he tries to get a new one out of us. That hat is quite old and rusty-looking."

"He was a rusty-looking fellow all the way through," commented Buster. "Wonder who he is?"

"He's some kind of a doctor," answered the carryall driver, who had left his turnout to join the boys. "He came to Oakdale and Rockville this summer, and he gives lectures on how to git well and strong, an' then he sells medicine. I know a feller got a bottle from him, but it didn't do him no good. He calls himself Doctor Montgomery, – but I reckon he ain't no real doctor at all."

"Must be one of these quacks who go around the country trying to rope people in," said Dave. "If he is, he ought to be run out of the neighborhood."

"Maybe we'll never hear from him again," said Luke. But the boys were destined to hear from Hooker Montgomery again, and in a manner to surprise them.

Returning to the carryall, the boys took in the colors, so that they might do no further damage, and then the journey to Oak Hall was resumed. The encounter on the road had sobered them a little, and this did not wear away until they came in sight of the school buildings.

"Hurrah! I see Phil and Roger!" cried Dave, as the carryall swung in between the large oak trees that gave the place its name. "Hello!" he shouted. "Here we are again!"

"Dave!" returned the senator's son, running forward, while Phil did the same. "How are you all?" he added, waving his hand to the crowd in general.

A number of other boys were present, and soon Dave was surrounded by his old friends, all eager to shake hands. They wanted to know all about his trip, and he in return wanted to know what they had been doing. So there was a perfect babble of voices as the crowd walked into the main school building, where good old Doctor Hasmer Clay, the head of the institution, stood to welcome each new arrival.

"Glad to see you back, Porter," he said, kindly. "And I must thank you in person for the skin you sent from the ranch. We have placed it on the floor of the reception room. I am quite proud to think one of my pupils is such a good shot."

"Roger and Phil are good shots, too," answered Dave, anxious that his chums should have all the credit due them.

"So I understand." Doctor Clay paused for a moment. "I believe you met Lincoln Merwell out West." He eyed Dave curiously as he mentioned the fact.

"Yes, I met him – and we had some trouble – but it is all over now. But, Doctor Clay – " Dave motioned the master of the school to one side and lowered his voice. "Do you know that Merwell and Nick Jasniff are going to Rockville Military Academy?"

"Is it possible!"

"That is what they say. It seems to me that the authorities of Rockville ought to know what sort they are."

"That is true, Porter, but – ahem! – I don't know what I can do. You see, to tell you the truth, the management of the military academy has changed hands, and the new master and I are not on speaking terms. He wished to obtain certain pupils, and they came to this school instead, and that made him very angry. He claimed that I treated him unfairly, but I did not. Even if I were to warn him against Jasniff and Merwell it is not likely that he would take the warning in good part. Besides, the military academy is not in a prosperous condition financially, and I rather think the owners will take almost any pupils they can get."

"I see, sir. Well, if that's the case, why we might as well drop the matter," answered Dave.

"I will think it over, and perhaps I'll send a letter to the master of Rockville," returned Doctor Clay, seriously. "I don't want even an enemy to harbor such lads as Jasniff and Merwell without knowing what they are, although it would be to Rockville's credit if it took those boys and made real men out of them."

As my old readers know, Oak Hall was a large building of brick and stone, shaped in the form of a cross, with the classrooms, the private office, the dining-room, and the kitchen on the ground floor. On the second floor were the majority of the school dormitories, furnished to accommodate from four to eight pupils each. The school was surrounded by a broad campus, sloping in the rear to the Leming River, on the bank of which was located the school boathouse. At one side of the campus was a neat gymnasium, and at the other were some stables and sheds, and also a newly-built garage for automobiles and motor-cycles.

Dave and his chums had their quarters in dormitories Nos. 11 and 12, two large and well-lighted apartments, having a connecting door between. Not far away was dormitory No. 13, occupied by Nat Poole and his cronies. Merwell and Jasniff had had beds in that room, but now those places were given to others.

Roger and Phil had arrived the day before, and were already settled, and now they did what they could to make Dave at home, assisting him in unpacking his trunk and his suit-case, and putting the things away in the bureau and the clothes closet. Of course Dave had brought along some pictures and banners, and these were hung up or set on the bureau – that is, all but one photograph – one of Jessie she had given him the day before. That he kept to himself, in his private drawer with a few other treasures, under lock and key.

"Hello, Dave; can I help you?" came a voice from the doorway, and Gus Plum appeared. The former bully of the Hall was a trifle thin and pale, but his eyes were clear and his voice pleasant to hear.

"Why, Gus, how are you!" cried Dave, and shook hands warmly. "Did you have a good time this summer?"

"Quite good," answered Plum. "You know I went up to Maine with Mr. Dale. He took up half a dozen fellows, and we went in for botany and geology while we were camping out."

"Well, I guess Mr. Dale is good company," answered Dave. He referred to Andrew Dale, the first assistant teacher of the school, a man well beloved by nearly all the students. Every summer this teacher took out some of the boys, and there was always a rivalry as to who should go along.

"It was better than just – er – knocking around," stammered Gus Plum. He meant carousing around with fellows of the Merwell and Jasniff sort, and Dave understood. He hesitated for a moment and looked around, to see if anybody but Phil and Roger were in the rooms. "Of course, you know Nat Poole is back," he continued, in a low voice.

"Yes, – I saw him leave Crumville."

"Dave, you want to beware of him." Gus Plum uttered the words very earnestly.

"Oh, I am not afraid of Nat – never was."

"Yes, but this is different, Dave. I suppose you know there are a lot of new fellows at Oak Hall this year."

"There are new fellows every year – the seniors go and the freshies come in."

"Yes, but this year we have more new fellows than ever. A school in Laverport broke up, and sixteen of the students were transferred to Oak Hall – sophs, juniors, and seniors. So those fellows, added to the freshies, make quite a bunch."

"What has that got to do with Poole and me?"

"Nat Poole and one of the fellows from Laverport, a chap named Guy Frapley, are very good friends – in fact, I think they are related. This Frapley was a sort of leader at Laverport, and he has got a number of the other newcomers under his thumb. Last night I was down by the boathouse, and I heard Nat and Frapley talking about you. Nat was very anxious to do something to 'make you take a back seat,' as he termed it, and after a while Frapley consented to take the matter up with him."

"What do you suppose they'll do?" questioned Phil, who had listened to Plum's words with interest.

"I don't know exactly, but they'll do something, you can be sure of that. More than likely it will be something underhanded."

"I am not afraid of Nat Poole – nor of this Guy Frapley, either," said Dave.

"Dave has so many friends here, why should he be afraid?" asked Roger.

"Well, I only thought I'd warn you, that's all," answered the former bully, meekly. "I don't want Dave to have any more trouble if I can help it."

"It's kind of you, Gus, to tell me of this," answered Dave, heartily. "And I'll be on my guard. But I really don't think Nat Poole will cut much of a figure during this term of school. He has lost too many of his old friends."

But, for once, Dave was mistaken. Nat Poole did "cut a figure," although not quite in the manner expected, and what he and his cronies did caused Dave not a little trouble.

CHAPTER IX

THE FOOTBALL MEETING

In a few days Dave felt as much at home as ever. Nearly all of his old friends had returned to Oak Hall, and dormitories Nos. 11 and 12 were filled with as bright a crowd of lads as could well be found anywhere. In the number were Gus Plum and Chip Macklin, but the former was no longer the bully as of old, and the latter had lost his toadying manner, and was quite manly, and the other students treated them as if all had always been the best of friends.

It did Dave's heart good to see the change in Plum, and he was likewise pleased over the different way in which Macklin acted.

"I never thought it was in Gus and Chip," he said, privately, to Roger. "It shows what a fellow can do if he sets his mind to it."

"It's to your credit as much as to their own," declared the senator's son. "I don't believe Gus would have reformed if you hadn't braced him up."

"I wish I could reform Nat Poole."

"You'll never do it, Dave – but you may scare him into behaving himself."

"Have you met Guy Frapley, Roger – I mean to talk to?"

"Yes, in the gym., where Phil and I were practicing with the Indian clubs."

"What do you think of him?"

"I think he is fairly aching to become the leader of the school. He was leader at Laverport, and it breaks his heart to play second fiddle to anybody here. He and Nat are as thick as two peas. They tell me he is a great football player, so I suppose he will try to run the eleven – if the fellows will let him."

"I don't think the old players will let a new crowd run our team."

"The trouble is, some of the old players are gone, and the new crowd may count up the largest number of votes. In that case they'll be able to run things to suit themselves."

Dave had settled down to his studies in earnest, for that winter he wished to make an extra good record for himself. He loved sports, but as he grew older he realized that he was at Oak Hall more for a mental than a physical training.

"When my time comes, I shall have a good many business interests to look after," was the way he expressed himself to Phil, who joked him about "boning like a cart horse," "and I know if I haven't the education I'll be at the mercy of anybody who wishes to take advantage of my ignorance."

"Well, you are not going to give up football, are you, Dave?" questioned the shipowner's son.

"Not if they want me on the eleven."

"Well, that depends. We have a meeting Monday afternoon, in the gym."

Dave had noticed a good many whispered conversations taking place between some of the old students and all of the new ones, and he had wondered what was going on. A hint was dropped that the football meeting would "wake things up," whatever that might mean.

"I think I know what is in the wind," said Gus Plum to Dave during a recess on Monday. "Nat Poole and Guy Frapley came to me last night and they wanted me to pledge myself to support Frapley for captain of the eleven."

"Well, they had a right to do that, Gus."

"I told them I wouldn't do it. They said if I didn't I'd get left. I told 'em that wouldn't hurt me very much, because I didn't care for playing anyway."

"I see," answered Dave, thoughtfully.

He at once sought out Roger, Phil, and Sam Day, – those who had loved to play football in the past, and who had hoped to be on the eleven the present season – and talked the matter over with them. Then the shipowner's son made a quiet canvass among all those interested in football.

"Plum is right," he declared later. "Frapley, aided by Nat Poole and his cronies, is going to carry matters with a high hand."

"It's an outrage!" cried Sam. "A stranger running the Oak Hall eleven! I shall protest!"

"It won't do any good – if Frapley gets the votes," answered Roger. "Especially if he is a good player, and they say he is."

The news that there was going to be a lively time drew a large crowd to the meeting in the gymnasium. This was called to order by the former manager of the eleven, and a call was issued for nominations for a new manager.

"I nominate John Rand!" cried Nat Poole, mentioning one of the students from Laverport.

"Second the nomination!" added Guy Frapley, promptly.

"I nominate Henry Fordham," said Roger, putting up one of the old students, who did not play, but who was a good general manager, and a youth well liked by his classmates.

Dave seconded Roger's nomination, and as there were no other names submitted, the nominations were declared closed.

"Mr. Chairman, I'd like to say a few words before we hold an election – I mean, before we vote," said Sam Day, mounting a chair.

"Oh, dry up, and let us cast our ballots!" muttered Nat Poole.

"I wish to speak in favor of Henry Fordham, whom all old students of Oak Hall know so well," continued Sam. "He knows – "

"Vote! vote! Let us vote!" called out several new students loudly, and it was seen that they were urged on by Guy Frapley.

In a moment half a dozen students were speaking at once, and it took several minutes for the chairman of the meeting to restore silence. Then Sam was allowed to make a short speech and he was followed by Dave, both speaking in favor of Fordham. Then a new student spoke in favor of Rand, and then the voting began.

The result was a painful surprise for Fordham, and equally painful to Dave and his chums. So well had Nat Poole, Guy Frapley, and their cohorts laid their plans that John Rand was elected manager of the coming eleven by a majority of five votes.

"It is all up with our crowd!" murmured Roger to Dave, when the result was announced. "That crowd has got votes enough to ride over us rough-shod, and it is going to do it."

And the senator's son was right, as later events speedily proved. The new football team, made up of a regular eleven and five substitutes, counted but six old Oak Hall players. Dave, Roger, Phil, and their close chums were utterly ignored. Guy Frapley was chosen captain and quarter-back, and Nat Poole was made full-back. It is needless to say that some of the old players, who had worked so hard in the past to make Oak Hall victorious, left the meeting in disgust.

"This is the worst I was ever up against!" murmured Roger. "Talk about ingratitude! And just think that once Phil nearly lost his life to help us win!"

"And think of how hard Dave and you worked," put in a sympathizer. "It's a burning shame, that's what it is."

"Well, there is one satisfaction," said Dave, as calmly as he could, although he was as depressed as any one. "It is on their shoulders now to make good. We haven't anything on that score to worry about."

"I'll tell you what let's do!" cried Phil. "We'll organize a scrub eleven, and wax 'em out of their shoes!"

"I don't believe they'll play you – they are afraid," said Buster.

"Never mind, then we'll play somebody else. We can challenge them, anyway. If they are afraid of us we want the whole school to know it."

Phil's idea met with considerable favor, and he easily persuaded Dave, Roger, Sam, Gus Plum, and a number of others to join his scrub eleven, which was named the Old Guard. Phil was manager as well as captain, and played right half-back, while Dave was quarter-back, and Roger was center. The eleven went into practice with as much vigor as if they were training for some championship games.

As had been anticipated, the regular eleven tried to ignore the Old Guard. When a challenge to play was issued, John Rand sent back word that he could fix up his own scrub eleven without any help from outsiders. His scrub was made up of freshmen and, of course, the regular team beat them with ease.

"Never mind – they are afraid of us – and we'll let everybody know it," declared Roger. And then the challenge from the Old Guard to the regular eleven was posted up in the gymnasium, where all might see it. It was torn down over night, but a new copy was put up by the following noon.

As was to be expected, the challenge created much talk, and Phil and Frapley almost came to blows about it. Phil and his chums were accused of trying to break up the good feeling of the school in general, and, in return, the shipowner's son very bluntly told the new captain of the school eleven that he would lead Oak Hall to defeat.