The Putnam Hall Rivals

“Maybe we can get at him from the top,” suggested Jack. “There seemed to be quite a cave-in there.”

“I will look,” said the teacher.

All hurried outside and to the spot the young major had noticed. The ground was much sunken.

“He is literally buried alive!” cried George, Strong. “We must dig him out, and be quick about it!”

They went at the stones and dirt with vigor, yet taking care that no additional cave-in should result. All they had to work with was a trowel George Strong had brought along and their hands, but despite this drawback they made fair progress.

“I see a hole!” cried Jack, after five minutes of hard work.

“Be careful!” cautioned George Strong again. “Call down to Dale.”

The young major did so, but still there was no answer. The hole was increased in size until it was big enough to admit the passage of a human form. Then the torch was flared below.

“I see him!” said Jack. “He is flat on his back.”

“Does he seem to be caught by the rocks?”

“No.”

The teacher took a look and then ordered that the hole be made a little larger.

“I will lower myself to him,” said George Strong. “Then I will pass him up to you.”

He disappeared into the hole and took the torch with him. Presently he called out, and then they saw him lifting up Dale’s limp form. They caught hold of their chum’s body and drew it to a place of safety.

“He seems to be knocked unconscious,” said Jack, soberly.

They assisted the teacher to the surface above the cave, and then all three turned their attention to Dale. There was a lump on the unconscious boy’s head and a scratch on his chin.

“Get some water and we’ll bathe him,” said George Strong, and this was done, and presently Dale opened his eyes.

“Take it away!” he murmured. “It’s too heavy for me!”

“You’re all right, Dale,” said Jack. “You’re safe.” And then Dale stared around him.

“Wha – what did you say?” he stammered. “Oh, my head!” And he put up his hand.

“You are safe,” said the teacher.

“Didn’t that rock come down on me?”

“It came pretty close to you. It must have grazed your head, and that is what made you unconscious.”

“And how – how did I get here?”

“We dug you out,” said Pepper.

“Oh!” And for the time being the suffering youth said no more.

They continued to bathe his face and wrists, and presently he said he felt better. But George Strong made him wait half an hour before standing on his feet.

“I’m a bit dizzy and light-headed, but that’s all,” declared Dale, when they finally set out for Putnam Hall. “Say, I reckon I had a narrow escape, didn’t I?”

“You did,” answered the teacher.

“Weren’t you caught at all?”

“No.”

“That’s what I get for trying to lift up a tree,” pursued Dale, with a sorry little grin. “No more such foolishness for me!”

They took their time about getting back, and it was long after the supper hour when the academy was reached. George Strong explained matters to Captain Putnam and they had the meal in private.

“That was certainly quite an adventure,” remarked Jack.

“Yes, and one I shouldn’t wish to experience again,” answered Dale. “I shan’t go into another cave in a hurry, take my word on that!”

“I wonder if the cave was ever used for anything?” asked Pepper.

“I do not think so,” returned George Strong. “It was merely a split in the rocks, probably caused by a landslide.”

CHAPTER XVIII

SEEN THROUGH A SPYGLASS

Three days later Jack came to Pepper, Andy, and Dale, who were out on the campus catching ball.

“Mr. Strong is in trouble,” he announced, and the ball catching came to an end at once.

“What’s up, Jack?”

“Somebody I think has been playing tricks on him.”

“What did they do?”

“Order a lot of things in his name.”

“I must say I don’t understand,” said Andy, with a puzzled look.

“Day before yesterday there came an elegant set of Cooper’s works by express with a C. O. D. charge of thirty-two dollars. Mr. Strong never ordered the books.”

“That’s mean, to play a trick like that on him,” said Dale. “Now if it was old Crabtree I wouldn’t say a word.”

“Yesterday came a bookcase, also C. O. D., at eighteen dollars, and then he got three fountain pens by mail, with a bill for twelve dollars.”

“Has he any idea who ordered the things?” asked Andy.

“Not the slightest idea in the world.”

“He must be mad.”

“He said he was very much annoyed and could not imagine who would be mean enough to play such tricks on him.”

“If they signed his name to the orders that would be forgery,” was Dale’s comment.

“So it would.”

“Why doesn’t he send for the orders?”

“He is going to do it.”

The second assistant teacher was indeed in trouble. On the day following the above conversation a parrot arrived in a cage for him, followed by a canary bird. Then came a canoe and a rifle, both, sent “on approval.” The next day he got a letter from a city firm, asking how he wished them to send the automobile that he desired.

“This is too much!” said the teacher, as he read the letter to Captain Putnam.

“It is an outrage,” answered the master of the Hall, warmly. “We must find out who is up to these tricks.”

“It will keep me busy a long time explaining matters,” went on George Strong, with a troubled look on his face.

“You had better refuse all goods after this, unless you are certain they are all right.”

“I’ll do it.”

The next day seemed to cap the climax, for that morning there came a crate of dishes, two boxes of mineral water of the most expensive kind, and a folding baby carriage. George Strong was desperate and refused to accept anything, despite the protestation of the express driver from Cedarville.

“I didn’t order the things and I won’t accept them!” cried the teacher. “Send them back!”

“And about the charges?” asked the expressman.

“Collect at the other end. I have nothing whatever to do with the orders.” And the expressman went away grumbling loudly to himself.

As was to be expected, the refusal to accept goods brought a great deal of trouble. George Strong received some harsh letters and in some cases was threatened with suits-at-law. In three instances he received the original orders for inspection, but they were poorly written, in pencil, and he could make little or nothing out of them. Goods had been sent to him because he referred to Captain Putnam as to his responsibility to make payments. This brought the master of the Hall into the mix-up, and he had to do what he could to explain matters.

“We must certainly locate the party or parties who are guilty,” said the captain. “Mr. Strong, have you any especial enemies among the students?”

“I think not, captain.”

“Have you had occasion to reprimand any of them, or keep them in after regular hours?”

“Oh, yes, I have kept some of them in.”

“Who?”

The teacher named over seven or eight, among them being Reff Ritter, Dan Baxter, and Gus Coulter.

“Any others?”

“I once had to keep in Dale Blackmore and Andy Snow for talking together. But I do not think they can be guilty.”

“Perhaps not, although Snow is rather full of fun.”

The matter was talked over and the teacher said he would watch the boys he had mentioned closely.

On the following Saturday Jack and Andy got permission to go to Top Rock Hill, located not many miles from the academy. They wanted some of the others to go along, but there was a “scrub” baseball game on and they declined.

“Do you remember how Baxter got into trouble at Top Rock Hill last fall?” said Jack, as they trudged along.

“Indeed I do, Jack,” returned Andy. “I don’t think he’ll try to take any more nuts from private property.”

Jack had with him a new spyglass and wanted to test it. The boys climbed to the very top of the hill, where a grand panorama was spread before them. On one side were the rolling hills and on the other the slope running down to the lake, which lay glistening like silver in its rim of green.

“I can see the Hall with this glass,” said Jack. “And I can see some of the fellows out on the lake in boats.”

He allowed Andy to take a look, and after a while they turned the glass in the direction of the somewhat dusty road that wound around the foot of Top Rock Hill.

“I can see a buggy coming along the road,” said Jack. “There is a man in it.”

Andy took a look at the turnout.

“Why, that is one of our horses!” he exclaimed. “The spotted white, Billy Boy. Can it be the captain who is out driving?”

“No, he was in his office when we came away.”

“Maybe it is old Crabtree.”

“I think it is Mr. Strong by his hat,” said Jack, handling the glass. “I can’t see his face very clearly. He is slowing up and – Well, I declare!”

Jack stopped suddenly and gave another long look.

“See! see!” he exclaimed. “Two men are on the road. What are they doing?”

“They seem to be quarreling with the carriage driver,” answered Andy. “They are hauling him out of the carriage, and, yes, it is Mr. Strong!”

“If he is in trouble, we ought to help him!”

“Right you are! Come on!”

Shutting up the spyglass, the two cadets hurried from the top of the hill in the direction of the wagon-road. The way was rough and uncertain and they had to beware of dangerous holes. Once they got caught in a tangle of bushes and had to go back.

“I hope we are not losing the right direction,” panted Andy, as he paused to gaze round.

“We are all right,” answered the young major. “Hurry up! He may be in peril of his life!”

At last they gained the bottom of the rocky hill. There was a small meadow to cross, beyond which was the wagon-road, lined with trees and bushes.

“Help!” they heard somebody cry. “Help! help!”

“That is Mr. Strong’s voice!” exclaimed Andy.

“I see the horse and carriage!” answered Jack, pointing down the road. “Look, the carriage is empty!”

“And the horse is running away!” finished his chum, as they saw the steed dash onward at a gallop.

“Help! help!” came the cry again. Both boys looked around, but could see no one.

“Shall we call to him?” asked Andy.

“No! no!” answered Jack, hastily. “That will put his assailants on guard. Come, the cry came from yonder.”

Forward the two boys darted once more, and then Andy called a halt.

“We haven’t anything in the way of weapons,” said he. “Let us get clubs.”

This advice was followed promptly. Fortunately heavy sticks were readily to be had, so but little time was lost. Then, as they heard another cry, they darted into a thicket along the roadside.

A moment later they came upon a thrilling scene. George Strong was in the grasp of one man, who held him from the back, while a second man was going through his pockets.

CHAPTER XIX

ANOTHER CHALLENGE

“I know those fellows!” whispered Jack, as he and Andy came to a halt behind convenient trees.

“So do I. They are Mr. Strong’s two crazy relatives, Bart Callax and Paul Shaff.”

The cadets hardly knew what to do.

“I want that million dollars!” cried the man named Callax. “Give it to me!”

“And I want the order for an airship,” put in Paul Shaff.

“Bart! Paul! Let me go!” said George Strong. “You are making a mistake, I tell you!”

“If you don’t give us what we want we’ll tie you to a tree and burn you up!” cried Shaff.

“They are certainly crazy,” whispered Andy. “They ought to be in an asylum.”

“I wonder how they got here?”

“Ran away from those other relatives in the west, I suppose,” returned the young major, and he spoke the exact truth. The relatives had been looking all over for the crazy men, but without success.

Suddenly the two crazy men threw George Strong flat on his back and began to beat him with their fists.

“Come, we must do what we can!” cried Jack, and ran forward.

The man named Callax was closest to him, and raising his stick he dealt the fellow a blow that caused him to fall dazed on the sward.

At the same time Andy hit Paul Shaff a glancing blow on the shoulder. The crazy man turned, leaped up, and caught the cadet by the throat.

“Le – let go of – of m – me!” gasped Andy.

“Boys! I am glad you came!” burst from George Strong’s lips. He scrambled up and caught Shaff by the arm. “Let him go, do you hear, Paul! Let him go, I say!” And after an effort he managed to draw the crazy man back.

By this time Bart Callax was getting up. The blow Jack had dealt seemed to take much of the fight out of him.

“Do – don’t hit me again!” he whined.

“Then leave Mr. Strong alone,” answered the young major.

“I want my million dollars!”

“And I want my airship,” put in Paul Shaff. “I have an order to go to the North Pole, to get fifty polar bears for the circus!”

“If you’ll behave yourselves I’ll see that you get what is coming to you,” said George Strong. “But you mustn’t attack me in this fashion.”

“Too bad! We are so poor!” cried Callax, and suddenly began to weep. Then Shaff sat on the ground and looked the picture of despair.

“What do you want to do, Mr. Strong?” whispered Jack.

“Where is the horse and buggy?”

“The horse ran away, up the road, but maybe I can find him,” answered Andy.

“Then do so, if you can. If it can be done, I wish to place these poor chaps where they can do no further harm.”

“Better place them in a regular asylum after this,” suggested Jack.

“No asylum for me!” yelled Bart Callax, leaping up. “Good-bye!” And he dove into the bushes.

“Stop him!” cried the teacher, but it was too late. In the excitement Paul Shaff also got away, and that was the last seen of the pair for some time to come.

In the meantime Andy had gone after the runaway horse. As he surmised, the steed had not gone a great distance, and a third of a mile up the road was found in a hollow, quietly cropping the grass. Fortunately the buggy was not damaged in the least, and he had no difficulty in returning to the scene of the encounter with the turnout.

“They came upon me so suddenly that I was taken off my guard,” said the second assistant teacher, when telling his story. “I tried to reason with them and said I would take them to the Hall, but they pulled me from the buggy and dragged me into the wood. They might have killed me if you had not happened along.”

“I am glad to be of service to you,” said Jack. “But if I were you I’d make a strong effort to catch them. They are too dangerous to be left at large.”

“I’ll put some officers of the law on their track,” said the teacher, and this was, later on, done.

“Mr. Strong, perhaps this explains it!” cried Jack, as they were driving back to Putnam Hall.

“Explains what, Ruddy?”

“Those orders for goods sent out in your name. Those crazy men might do something like that?”

“That is so!” ejaculated the teacher. “It never struck me before. I must look into it without delay. No doubt they are guilty.” And this proved to be the fact.

With the coming of warm weather the thoughts of many of the students had turned to baseball. Several teams had already been organized, including one by Reff Ritter. Baxter had wanted to organize a team, but Ritter got ahead of him. However, the bully of the Hall was made pitcher, with Ritter as catcher, so he was content. Coulter played first-base and Paxton short-stop. They called themselves the Medals, and issued a challenge to any team in the school.

“That means us,” said Jack. “Baxter and Ritter are bound to get ahead of us if they possibly can.”

Since the previous summer there had been some changes made among the boys when playing baseball, and now a team was made up with Bart Conners, the captain of Company A, as captain and short-stop. Jack was pitcher, Dale catcher, Andy first-base, Pepper second-base, Stuffer third-base, Hogan center-field, Harry Blossom right-field, and Henry Lee left-field. Dave Kearney and two others were substitutes. This team was called the Browns, for all of the players got suits of brown. The Ritter and Baxter crowd procured suits of blue, with red stockings.

After a good deal of talk it was decided that the Medals and the Browns should play a game a week later, on a Saturday afternoon. Both teams at once began to practice vigorously.

“Baxter is taking private lessons from a professional pitcher who comes to Cedarville from Ithaca,” said Pepper one day. “I got the word from Hampden, who saw him.”

“Did Hampden say anything more?”

“He said Baxter was going to fool us on a new kind of a curved ball.”

The news was true. From a friend in the city the bully had gotten the name and address of the professional pitcher, and the latter was now giving Baxter as many lessons as the cadet’s spare time would allow.

The new curved ball was a difficult one to pitch, and had to be delivered by a certain swing of the wrist and the elbow. At first Baxter could not “get the hang” of it, as he said, but presently it came to him, and then he delivered the ball very well.

“That’s the way to do it,” said the professional pitcher. “Keep it up like that and you will fool ’em every inning.”

“I hope I do,” answered Dan Baxter. “I want to down that team sure.”

“Well, you keep at it, and don’t you fear for results.”

To make sure that the professional was not humbugging him, the bully pitched for his cronies in a field away from Putnam Hall. He struck out Coulter, Paxton, and Sabine in succession, and Ritter got nothing but an accidental pop fly.

“That is certainly a great ball to pitch,” was Reff Ritter’s comment. “I don’t see how we can lose if you keep that up, Dan.”

“I’ll keep it up, don’t worry about that,” was the answer. “I’ll beat them if it breaks my arm to do it.”

Everybody in the school was interested in the coming game, and in private not a few wagers were made on the result. When the two teams went out to practice Dan Baxter did not pitch the new kind of curve, and many thought his work weak in consequence.

Jack pitched in the regular way, but as soon as he heard that Dan Baxter was taking lessons from a professional the young major went at pitching in earnest and perfected his signals for his catcher, Dale. Jack could pitch a fairly speedy ball and also a drop ball that he hoped would prove effective from time to time.

The day for the game dawned fairly clear. There were a few clouds in the sky and a breeze from off the lake. The game was to begin at three o’clock and before that time visitors began to arrive from Cedarville and elsewhere, including some students from Pornell Academy.

“Hullo, here is a surprise!” cried Andy, pointing to a big automobile that was coming along the road. “Mr. Ford and his wife, and two daughters.”

“How do you do!” cried Laura and Flossie, as the automobile drew closer. “Can we come in to see the game?”

“Certainly you can!” answered Jack, warmly, and took off his cap. “We are much pleased to see you.”

“We missed the boat race, but we didn’t wish to miss this – at least the girls didn’t,” said Rossmore Ford.

“We’ll get you good seats,” said Pepper.

“Thank you, but we can stay right in the automobile,” said the wealthy gentleman.

“We expect you to win!” said Laura to Jack.

“You must win!” cried Flossie, to the others.

“We are going to try our best,” answered Andy, and the others said practically the same. Then the boys ran off, for it was time to start the game.

CHAPTER XX

ON THE BALL-FIELD

Reff Ritter won the toss-up and sent the Browns to the bat. Pepper was the first batter up, and as he took his place at the plate a slight cheer went up.

“Play!” called the umpire, one of the teachers from another school.

Dan Baxter held the ball a second, looked at the plate, and let drive.

“Strike one!” sang out the umpire, although Pepper had not struck at the sphere.

Again the ball was delivered, and Pepper sent the bat around as quickly as he could.

“Strike two!”

Then came a ball, – just a little too high. Then the sphere was delivered once more.

“Strike three! Batter out!”

“Good for Baxter! That’s the way to do it!”

“That ball shot up at the last instant,” said Pepper to Jack.

“It must be the new curved ball,” answered the the young major.

Hogan was the next to the bat. The Irish lad was usually a fairly good batsman, and when he was struck out a cry of wonder went up.

“Baxter is certainly pitching to-day!”

“Here comes Snow! He’ll hit it, I guess.”

Andy had two strikes called on him and then knocked a little foul, right in the catcher’s hands.

“Three out! That was pretty short.”

“And no hit.”

When Dan Baxter came up and took a seat on the bench a grin overspread his face.

“I guess you’ve got ’em going,” said Coulter.

“Sure thing,” answered the bully. “They won’t know where they stand when I get through with them.”

Coulter was the first player up for the Medals, and went out on a foul to third. Then came Paxton, who reached first on a drive to center. The next player followed with a fly to second. When the inning came to an end the Medals had one run.

“Hurrah for the Medals!” shouted some of the students.

“Now we must get on to that curved ball,” said Jack, as Harry Blossom went to the plate.

But Harry could no more than knock a foul and then went out on three strikes.

“Now, Jack!” called out Bart. “See if you can’t whack it out.”

Jack grasped his bat firmly and looked at Baxter sharply. The bully’s face wore a sickly grin. Jack had a strike called on him before he tried to hit the sphere. Then came another strike.

“Baxter is going to strike Ruddy out too!”

“No use of talking, Dan is a great pitcher this season.”

Again the ball came in, but it was too low and the umpire called it a ball.

Then the sphere came in just right. Jack saw it curving and did not bring his bat around until the last instant. Then followed a bunt, and while Dan Baxter fumbled with the ball Jack got to first.

“Hullo, he got to first anyway!”

“Only on a bunt,” came from a follower of the Medals.

The next player at the bat went out on strikes and the student to follow on a fly to third, and thus Jack, though he got to third, failed to score. Then the Baxter and Ritter team came in and made two runs.

“Look at that score! Browns 0, Medals 3!”

“This is certainly a winning day for the Medals!”

“That’s what it is!”

The friends of the Browns said nothing, but looked decidedly glum. The next inning resulted in a goose-egg for each side. At the end of the fifth inning the score stood Browns 0, Medals 5.

“I want to tell you about that curved ball,” said, Andy. “I have been watching Baxter closely. When his arm goes like this, it’s an in-shoot, when it goes like this it’s an out-shoot, and when it is twisted up like this, it’s a drop-ball. Now watch and see if I am not right.”

“You are right,” said Emerald. “I watched it meself, so I did.”

“Well, let us see what good watching did,” said Jack.

Hogan was at the bat, and the Irish lad got two balls and two strikes. Then came a drop-ball, but Emerald raised it up far into center-field.

“Good!” yelled Pepper. “Go, Emerald, go!” And go the Irish cadet did, and reached second-base before the fielder could send the ball up.

Hogan’s two-base hit seemed to put new life in the Browns, and at the end of that inning they had two runs to their credit. More than that, they had hit the ball six times.

“I guess we have solved the mystery of Baxter’s curves,” said Bart to his team.

“Yes, but we are still behind,” said Andy, with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Well, don’t give up yet.”

“Give up? Not a bit of it!” cried the acrobatic youth.

At the end of the seventh inning the score stood Browns 3, Medals 6. Then came a long-drawn-out inning, leaving the score at the ending of the eighth Browns 6, Medals 9.

“This is our last chance,” said Bart. “We must do our level best.”

An out was made and then two players got their bases. Then came a ball which Bart himself lifted to right-field, close to the foul flag.

“Run! Run!” yelled the supporters of the Browns, and run they did, bringing in two runs and leaving Bart on third.

“That’s the way to do it!”

“One more run and the score will be a tie!”