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

"Oh, he must be asleep by this time," said Sam.

"And here is a stout cord. I used it for flying my big kite," added Ben.

"Then, come on, and we'll give Job Haskers a surprise. But don't make any noise, or we may get caught."

CHAPTER XII

AN EARTHQUAKE FOR JOB HASKERS

The door to the hall was cautiously opened, and the boys looked out. The coast appeared to be clear, and Dave tiptoed his way out, followed by his chums. A faint light was burning, as required by the school regulations, and this kept the students from bumping into anything.

All knew the location of the apartment occupied by Job Haskers, and it did not take them long to reach the door to it. Here they paused to listen intently.

"He is in there and asleep," whispered Dave.

"Yes, and snoring," added Roger. "That shows he won't wake up very easily."

"We'll wake him up, don't fear – if my plan works," replied Dave, with grim humor.

With great caution the door was tried and found to be unlocked. Then, scarcely daring to breathe, Dave stepped into the apartment, with Roger and Phil behind him, clutching at his arms. The light in the hallway was near by, and Dave motioned for it to be turned up, so that he could see around the room.

Job Haskers's bed had been turned around for this term, so that the head was next to the wall beside the doorway. It was a new brass bedstead, ornamental but light.

With deft fingers, Dave doubled the cord provided by Ben, and tied one end to the head railing of the brass bedstead. The other end of the cord he carried to the doorway, and threw up through the transom, which swung upon side pivots.

"Good, I see your plan now!" murmured Phil. "I reckon we'll give him an awakening all right enough!"

As soon as the boys in the hallway had secured the outer end of the doubled cord, Dave stepped out of the room again, followed by Roger and Phil.

"Why not lock the door?" whispered the senator's son. "The key is here."

"Just what I intended to do," answered Dave, in an equally low voice.

The door was closed and locked, and the students all gathered in front of the portal, each with his hand on the cord.

"I wish we could dump him out of bed," muttered Plum.

"We'll give him a little quiver first," said Dave. "He won't know what to make of it. I don't think he'll notice the cord. It is just the color of the wall."

They pulled the cord taut, and then raised the head of the bed an inch or two. Then they let it drop.

"Oh – er – who is that?" they heard Job Haskers murmur. "Is it time to get up, Swingly?" He mentioned the name of the school janitor, who had orders to rouse him when he was over-sleeping.

Of course there was no answer to the teacher's question. He waited for a moment, and then turned over in bed, as if for another snooze.

"Now we'll give him a sharp jerk," whispered Dave, and the students caught hold of the cord with vigor. Up came the head of the bed about a foot and swayed violently towards the door.

"Hi! hi! What's this?" roared Job Haskers, sitting bolt upright, and gazing about in bewilderment.

"It's the end of the world!" came, in a hollow voice, through the keyhole. "The end of the world!"

"Mercy on me! It's an earthquake, that's what it is!" burst from the befuddled teacher, and then as the bed was jerked high in the air once more, he rolled over in the blankets and slid down to the lower end, where one foot got caught between the brass bars.

"Get out of the building, Mr. Haskers!" came a cry through the keyhole. "It is going to shake to the ground!"

"Yes! yes! It must be an earthquake!" groaned the bewildered pedagogue. "Oh, will I ever get out alive, I wonder!"

The top of the bedstead was bobbing up and down, like a ship on an angry ocean. In the darkness Job Haskers was completely bewildered, and he firmly believed that an earthquake had struck Oak Hall and that the building was in danger of collapsing. With a cry of fright he tumbled out on the floor, and threw the covers, in which he was wound up, aside. He tried to find the door, but the top of the bedstead was now in the way.

"The fire escape – it is the only way out!" he muttered to himself, and as the boys continued to jerk the bedstead around, he ran to the window and threw out a rope, fastened to a ring in the floor. Then out of the window he bounced and slid down the rope with a speed that blistered his hands.

"He has gone out of the window!" cried Roger, who had his eye glued to the keyhole. "Wait a minute, fellows!"

"Quick! We must take away the cord," said Dave, and in a trice the door of the bedroom was unlocked, the bed shoved into place, and the cord removed. Then the students scampered away, turning down the light as before.

Once on the ground Job Haskers lost no time in getting away from the building. Each instant he expected another quake that would bring that noble pile of bricks, stone, and mortar to the ground. But the quake did not come.

"Queer!" he murmured, presently. "Didn't anybody else feel that awful shock?"

"Hi, you, throw up your hands, or I'll fill ye full o' buckshot!"

The cry came from behind him, and it caused Job Haskers to leap with a new fear. He turned, and in the gloom of the night saw a man approaching with a gun pointed full at him.

"Don't – don't sho – shoot me!" he gasped.

"Up with yer hands!" came from the man. "I cotches ye that time, didn't I? Now, wot are ye, a ghost, a burglar, or a student on a lark?"

"Wh – who are yo – you?" stammered Job Haskers. "Did you – er – feel the earthquake?"

Instead of answering the questions, the man came closer, until the barrel of his shotgun was within a foot of the teacher's head. Then he gave a cry of astonishment.

"Why, if it ain't Mr. Haskers! Wot in the world are you a-doin' out this time o' night, sir?"

"Lemond!" faltered the teacher, as he recognized the driver for the Hall. "Did you – er – did you feel the earthquake?"

"Earthquake? No, sir."

"It is strange."

"Did you feel any of 'em, sir?" Horsehair had lowered his gun and was gazing fixedly at the teacher. "Say, you ain't walking in your sleep, are ye?" he questioned, abruptly.

"No, no – I – er – I am sure I am not," stammered Job Haskers, yet in secret he pinched himself to make certain. "I was – er – in bed, and I thought I felt an earthquake – the bed swayed, and I heard a cry – " The teacher stopped suddenly. "Perhaps it was those rascally boys!" he cried, abruptly.

"Boys! Did they play a joke on yer? They wouldn't be above it, sir – they are as full of 'em this term as ever, sir. How did you git out o' the building – down that rope?"

"Ye-as. You see, the bed moved – or I thought it did – and blocked the doorway, and I – But never mind, Lemond, don't say anything about this. I'll go in." And the teacher started rapidly across the campus. He was, of course, in his bare feet, and was finding his pajamas anything but warm in this frosty fall air.

"You can't get in that way, 'less you have a key!" called out Horsehair.

"I have no key," and Job Haskers stopped abruptly.

"I can let ye in the back way."

"That will do. Come, let us hurry – I am getting cold."

The back door was gained, and Job Haskers entered and felt his way up the semi-dark stairs. As he reached the upper hallway he found himself confronted by Doctor Clay, who had come in rather late, and who had been on the point of retiring when certain strange sounds had disturbed him and caused him to start an investigation.

"Why, Mr. Haskers, where have you been?" asked the doctor in astonishment. "I heard a noise, but I did not know you were stirring."

"I – er – I imagined some of the students were skylarking," faltered the assistant.

"Did you catch anybody?"

"No, sir, – they were too slick for me."

"This skylarking after hours must cease. Have you any idea who they were?"

"Not – er – exactly. I had some trouble early in the evening with Porter, Lawrence, and Morr, and they may be the ones. If you please, I'll take a look in their room."

"Do so, and if anything is wrong, have them report to me in the morning," said Doctor Clay, and retired once more to his room.

Moving swiftly through the hallway, Job Haskers reached his own room and threw open the door. He made a light, and gazed around in great perplexity. Everything was in perfect order excepting the bedclothes, which were just as he had left them. He walked slowly to the window and drew in the rope that was used for a fire escape.

"Strange! Strange!" he murmured to himself, as he scratched his head. "I was sure the bed moved. Can I have been dreaming after all? I ate a rather heavy supper, and my digestion is not as good as it used to be."

He put on his slippers and donned a dressing gown, and thus arrayed sallied forth once more, this time in the direction of the dormitory occupied by Dave and his chums. He approached on tip-toe and opened the door quickly and noiselessly.

But the students had had ample time in which to get to bed, and every one was under covers and apparently sleeping soundly. To make sure they were not shamming, the teacher came in and gazed at one after another closely. Then, with a face that was a study, he left the dormitory again and walked slowly to his own room.

"Is he gone?" asked a voice in the dormitory, after a full minute of silence.

"Yes, Phil," answered Dave. "But don't make any noise – he may come back."

"Say, that was the richest joke yet!" chuckled Ben.

"How he must have looked, sliding down that rope in his pajamas!" exclaimed Sam.

"If I dared, I'd really send in a theme to-morrow on 'Earthquakes,'" piped up Polly Vane.

"Do it, Polly; I dare you!" cried Macklin.

"I will – if you'll let me sign your name to it," answered the girlish student, but at this Chip shook his head vigorously.

"I'll bet old Haskers is as mad as a hornet," was Phil's comment. "Well, it served him right, for the way he treated us," he added.

"I guess we needn't go to the doctor to-morrow with any complaint," said the senator's son. "We have squared up."

"I'd like to know what Haskers really thinks of the shaking up," said Dave. And then he turned over to go to sleep, and the others did likewise.

The feast and the fun had tired the boys out, and the majority of them slept soundly until the rising bell rang out. Dave was the first to kick the covers aside and get up, but Ben followed immediately.

"Grand day, Dave!" cried Ben, running to the window to gaze out. "What a fine day to go nutting, if we could get away."

"Nothing but lessons to-day, Ben," answered Dave. He was bending down, looking under the bed. "Has anybody seen my shoes?" he continued, looking from one to another.

"I haven't seen them," answered Roger. He bent down to get out his own foot coverings. "Hello, my shoes are gone, too!" he cried.

"So are mine!" exclaimed Plum.

"And mine!" came quickly from several of the other boys.

"Did anybody put them in the closets?" asked Dave.

"If they did, they are not here now," answered Ben, who had entered one of the closets to look.

A hasty search was made, the boys looking into every place they could think of, – but all to no purpose. Every shoe, every boot, and every slipper belonging to them had disappeared.

CHAPTER XIII

IN WHICH SOME SHOES ARE MISSING

"What do you think of it?"

"Who took them?"

"We can't go downstairs in our bare feet."

Such were some of the remarks made, as the lads of dormitories Nos. 11 and 12 looked at each other. The closets had been searched thoroughly but without success.

"See here, if anybody in these rooms hid those shoes, I want to know it!" demanded Sam, gazing around sharply.

"I hardly think a fellow would hide his own shoes, too," answered Luke.

"He might, – just to hide his own guilt."

"I believe this is the work of some outsider," declared Dave. "Most likely Nat Poole and his crowd."

"By Jove, Dave, I believe you are right!" exclaimed Phil. "It would be just like them to do it, if they got the chance."

"Did you say Nat Poole?" queried Shadow, scratching his head thoughtfully.

"I did. Most likely Nat heard of our feast, and it made him extra sore to think we were having a good time and he wasn't invited."

"That is true, and I guess – " Shadow stopped short, and a curious look crossed his face.

"What is it, Shadow? Do you know anything of this?" asked Roger.

"Why, I – er – that is, I had a dream last night," stammered the story-teller of the school. "Or, maybe it wasn't a dream after all," he went on, in confusion.

"See here, Shadow, have you been sleep-walking again, and did you make off with our shoes?" demanded Phil. He remembered only too well how poor Shadow was addicted to walking in his sleep, and how he had once walked off with a valuable collection of rare postage stamps belonging to Doctor Clay.

"I – I don't think so," stammered Shadow, and got as red as a beet. "But I had a queer dream. I forgot about it at first, but now it comes back to me. I somehow dreamed that somebody came into this room and bent over me while I was in bed, and then picked up something. I started to stop him – and then I went sound asleep again."

"Who was the person?" questioned Polly Vane.

"I don't know."

"See here, Shadow, I'll wager a new necktie that you walked off with our shoes!" declared Sam. "And if you did, please be kind enough to tell us where you put them."

"Oh, Sam! I really – I don't think I did!" stammered the sleep-walker, in much confusion.

"The feast must have been too much for you, and it set you to sleep-walking," said Roger. "Now just see if you can't remember where you went with the shoes."

"The whole bunch must have made quite a load – all one fellow could carry," said Luke.

"Yes, and he'd have to put them in a box or a sheet at that," added Plum.

"Try to think real hard," suggested Roger.

"If he did it, it is funny that he took his own shoes, too," remarked Dave.

Poor Shadow was so confused he did not know what to say or do. He sat on the edge of the bed the picture of despair.

"I – I thought I was all over sleep-walking," he murmured. "The doctor at home was treating me all summer."

"One thing is certain – we can't stay up here all morning," burst out the senator's son. "I'm going to borrow a pair of shoes somewhere."

"So am I," added Dave. "We'll hunt for the missing shoes later on."

"Say!" burst out Shadow, half desperately. "You – you won't tell Doctor Clay about this, will you?"

"Not if you did it without knowing it, Shadow," answered Dave, promptly.

"I won't say a word," answered Plum.

"I – I don't know if I did it or not," went on Shadow, his face as red as ever. "I didn't know I took those postage stamps and those class pins that time. But if I did take 'em, – and we don't find 'em – I'll buy new shoes for all hands, if it takes every dollar I can scrape up."

The boys donned their clothing and then went on a tour of some of the other dormitories. Thus several borrowed shoes, while the others had to be content with slippers and foot coverings usually worn on the athletic field.

"Not very elegant," remarked Phil, as he gazed at the slippers he had borrowed, "but 'any port in a storm,' as the sailors say. I hope we get our shoes back."

"So do I, Phil," returned Dave. "But if Shadow went off with them he may have gone a long distance. Remember, he carried those postage stamps away up the river, and used a rowboat to do it. Maybe he rowed off with our foot coverings."

"He doesn't act as if he was tired – and he would be tired if he went very far with the shoes. Why, we didn't get to sleep until about one o'clock or half-past."

"I know that. It certainly is a mystery."

With several of the boys appearing at breakfast wearing slippers the secret of what had happened could not very well be kept, and it soon was whispered around that Nos. 11 and 12 had been cleaned out of shoes, boots, and slippers during the night, and that Shadow was suspected of having walked again in his sleep. His chums tried to hush the matter up, yet enough was said to make the story-teller of the school thoroughly uncomfortable.

"I'd give ten dollars to locate those shoes!" said Shadow to Dave, later on.

"So would I," answered Dave. "We can make a hunt after school."

Half a dozen of the students joined in the search for the missing foot coverings, and the lads looked high and low, but without success.

"Only one place more that I know of," said Dave. "That is the old granary."

"I don't think they can be there, but we can look," said Shadow.

The old granary was a building located behind some of the carriage sheds. It had once held grain, but was now used for the storage of garden implements. The lads found the door unlocked, and pushing it open they entered and gazed around in the semi-darkness.

"I don't see much that looks like shoes," remarked Roger.

"I'll strike a light," said Dave, and did so. The match flared up, and as it did so, several uttered cries.

"There they are, over in the corner!"

"We have found them at last!"

"Light a lantern and see," said Phil, and a stable lantern was quickly procured and lit. Then the boys worked their way around a mower and a harrow and some other farming implements to where they had seen the shoes.

"Sold!"

"These are a lot of old stuff thrown away long ago!"

It was true – the shoes they had located were worn out and covered with mildew. Shadow kicked them savagely.

"What a sell – and just after I was sure we had found them," he muttered.

Heavy at heart the students left the granary and put away the lantern. They had exhausted their resources, and walked back to the school in a decidedly sober mood.

"Well, all I can offer is this: " said Shadow, at last. "Each of you buy new shoes and slippers, and turn the bills over to me – and I'll pay them as quickly as I can."

"Don't you bother about my shoes, Shadow," said Dave, kindly. "I can get others easily enough."

"So can I," added Roger and Phil.

"But I would like to really know whether you walked off with them in your sleep, or if this is some trick of our rivals," continued Dave.

"You don't want to know any more than I do," declared the sleep-walker.

There seemed no help for it, and the next day all the boys paid a visit to Oakdale and purchased new shoes. They did not bother with slippers or boots, thinking that sooner or later the missing foot coverings would turn up. The shoe dealer was all attention, for never before had he had such a rush of trade.

Dave, Phil, and Roger got fitted first, and with their purchases under their arms, they quitted the shoe shop and strolled up the main street of the town.

"There are some girls we know!" cried the senator's son, presently, and pointed across the way. Coming in their direction were Mary Feversham and Vera Rockwell, two girls who lived in that vicinity, and who had come to the lads' school entertainment the year before. Vera had a brother with whom the senator's son was well acquainted.

"Why, how do you do!" cried Mary, as the boys crossed the street and tipped their caps. "So you are all back at school, eh?"

"I thought you must be back," added Vera, giving all a warm smile.

"Yes, we are back," answered Dave. "How have you been since we saw you last?"

"Very well indeed," answered Vera. "And how did you like it on the ranch? We heard you had turned into regular cowboys."

"Hardly that," said Dave. "But we went in for bronco-busting, and rounding-up, and all that."

"Somebody said you had some trouble with cattle thieves," went on Vera.

"Oh, Vera, don't mention that!" cried Mary, and blushed a little.

"Why shouldn't we?" demanded the other girl. "I don't believe those stories, and I think Mr. Porter and his friends ought to know what is being said."

"What is being said?" repeated Roger.

"Yes."

"Who is talking about us?" demanded Phil.

"Mr. Merwell, – the young man who used to go to Oak Hall. He goes to Rockville Military Academy now."

"And what did he say?" questioned Dave.

"Oh, he said a great many things – not to me but to some girls I know. He said all of you had gotten mixed up with some cattle thieves, and had tried to get out of the trouble by blaming him, but that he and his father had made you stop talking about him."

"Well, if that doesn't take the cake!" exclaimed Phil. "Isn't that Merwell to a T?"

"The shoe was on the other foot," explained Roger. "Merwell was the one who was mixed up in the affair, and he and his father had to pay for a lot of horses that – well, disappeared. We exposed him, and that is what made him mad."

"Did Mr. Merwell steal some horses?" asked Vera, in alarm.

"Not exactly – according to his story," answered Dave. "He says he took them in fun. Then the regular cattle thieves took them from him – and let him have some money. He claimed that he was going to return the horses, but didn't get the chance."

"And he and his father had to pay for the horses in the end?"

"Yes, – they paid Mr. Endicott, the owner of the ranch at which we were stopping."

"Then I guess Link Merwell was guilty," said Mary. "And after this I don't want him to even speak to me – he or that friend of his, Mr. Nick Jasniff."

"You'll do well to steer clear of the pair," warned Roger.

"It is a shame that they are allowed to talk about you as they do," said Vera. "If they keep on, they will give you a very bad name."

"I don't believe folks in Rockville will believe much of what Jasniff says," said Phil. "They'll remember his evil-doings of the past."

"He and Merwell seem to have made themselves popular at the Academy," was Mary's reply. "How they have done it I don't know. But perhaps they have money, or else – "

The girl did not finish, for just then an automobile swung around the corner and came to a halt in front of a store near which the young people had halted. The automobile contained Merwell, Jasniff, and two other students of the Academy, all attired in the cadet uniforms of that institution.

CHAPTER XIV

WHAT THE GIRLS HAD TO TELL

One of the strange cadets was driving the automobile, and hardly had it come to a stop when Merwell and Jasniff bounded out on the sidewalk, directly in front of Dave and his friends.

"Why – er – hello!" stammered Jasniff, and then, recognizing the girls, he grinned broadly, and tipped his cap.

"How do you do?" said Merwell, to Mary and Vera, and at the same time ignoring Dave and his chums.

The two girls stared in astonishment, for they had not expected to see the very lads about whom they had been conversing. But they quickly recovered and turned their backs on the newcomers.

"What's the matter – don't you want to speak to me?" demanded Jasniff, a sickly look overspreading his face.

"I assuredly do not, Mr. Jasniff," answered Vera, stiffly.

"And I suppose you don't want to speak to me either," came sourly from Link Merwell.

"You are right, Mr. Merwell – I do not."

"After this you will please us best by not recognizing us," added Mary, coldly.

"Oh, I see how it is – these chaps have been filling you up with stories about us!" cried Merwell, roughly. "Well, if you want to believe them you can do it. I don't care!" And he turned on his heel and entered a nearby store.

"Some day you'll wish you hadn't made such friends of Porter & Company," said Jasniff, and he glared defiantly at Dave and his chums. "Maybe you'll find that they are not just what you thought they were," and having thus delivered himself, he, too, entered the store. In the meantime the automobile had gone on along the street to the post-office, where the two strange cadets went in to see about mail.

"Say, I think I'll lay for Merwell and Jasniff and – " began Phil, when a warning pinch on his arm from Dave caused him to break off.

There was an awkward pause, neither the boys nor the girls knowing exactly what to say or do.

"Well, we must be going," said Vera. "I promised to be home by dark."

"And I have some errands to do before I go back," added Mary. "So we'll say good-by."

"I hope we meet again," remarked Phil.