Produced by Al Haines.
BOBBY BLAKE
at Rockledge School
_By_ FRANK A. WARNER
_Author of_ "BOBBY BLAKE AT BASS COVE" "BOBBY BLAKE ON A CRUISE," Etc.
WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO. RACINE, WISCONSIN
Copyright, MCMXV, by BARSE & CO.
Printed in the United States of America
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. "The Overland Limited" II. Apples and Applethwaite Plunkit III. Fred in Trouble IV. An Eventful Afternoon V. The Tale of a Scarecrow VI. A Fish Fry and a Startling Announcement VII. Financial Affairs VIII. The Peep-Show IX. Off for Rockledge X. New Surroundings XI. Getting Acquainted XII. In the Dormitory XIII. The Poguey Fight XIV. The Honor Medal XV. Getting Into Step XVI. Hot Potatoes XVII. Lost at Sea XVIII. The Bloody Corner XIX. The Result XX. On the Brink of War XXI. Give and Take XXII. What Bobby Said XXIII. Good News Travels Slowly XXIV. Red Hair Stands for More Than Temper XXV. The Winner
BOBBY BLAKE AT ROCKLEDGE SCHOOL
CHAPTER I
"THE OVERLAND LIMITED"
A boy of about ten, with a freckled face and fiery red hair croppedclose to his head, came doubtfully up the side porch steps of the Blakehouse in Clinton and peered through the screen door at Meena, theSwedish girl.
Meena was tall and rawboned, with very red elbows usually welldisplayed, and her straw-colored hair was bound in a tight "pug" on topof her long, narrow head. Meena had sharp blue eyes and she could seeboys a great way off.
"Mis' Blake--she ban gone out," said Meena, before the red-haired boycould speak. "You vant somet'ing? No?"
"I--I was looking for Bobby," said the visitor, stammeringly. He andMrs. Blake's Swedish girl were not on good terms.
"I guess he ban gone out, too," said Meena, who did not want to be"bothered mit boys."
The boy looked as though he thought she was a bad guesser! Somewhereinside the house he heard a muffled voice. It shouted:
"Whoo! whoo! whoo-whoo-who-o-o-o!"
The imitation of a steam whistle grew rapidly nearer. It seemed to bedescending from the roof of the house--and descending very swiftly.Finally there came a decided bang--the landing of a pair of well-shodfeet on the rug--and the voice rang out:
"All out! All out for last stop! All out!"
"_That's_ Bobby," suggested the boy with the red hair, looking wistfullyinto Meena's kitchen.
"Vell!" ejaculated the girl. "You go in by the dining-room door, Iguess. You not go to trapse through my clean kitchen. Vipe your feet,boy!"
The boy did as he was bade, and opened the dining-room door. A steadyfootstep was thumping overhead, rising into the upper regions of thethree-story house.
The red-haired youngster knew his way about this house just as well ashe knew his own. Only he tripped over a corner of the dining-room rugand bumped into two chairs in the darkened living-room before he reachedthe front hall.
This was wide and was lighted above by ground-glass oval windows on allthree flights of stairs. The mahogany balustrade was in a single smoothspiral, broken by no ornament. It offered a tempting course from garretto ground floor to any venturesome small boy.
"All aboard!" shouted the voice overhead.
"The Overland Limited," said the red-haired boy, grinning, and squintingup the well.
"Ding-dong! ding-dong! All aboard for the Overland Limited! This way!No stop between Denver and Chicago! All aboard!"
There was a scramble above and then the exhaust of the locomotive wasimitated in a thin, boyish treble:
"Sh-h! sh-h! sh-h! Choo! choo! choo! Ding-dong-ding! We're off--"
A figure a-straddle the broad banister-rail shot into view on the upperflight. The momentum carried the boy around the first curve and to thebrink of the second pitch. Down that he sped like an arrow, and soaround to the last slant of the balustrade.
"Next stop, Chi-ca-_go_!" yelled the boy on the rail. "All o-o-out! allout for Chicago!"
And then, bang! he landed upon the hall rug.
"How'd you know the board wasn't set against you, Bobby?" demanded thered-haired one. "You might have had a wreck."
"Hello, Fred Martin. If I'd looked around and seen your red head, I'dsure thought they'd flashed a danger signal on me--though the OverlandLimited is supposed to have a clear track, you know."
Fred jumped on him for that and the two chums had a wrestling match onthe hall rug. It was, however, a good-natured bout, and soon they satside by side on the lower step of the first flight, panting, and grinnedat each other.
Bobby's hair was black, and he wore it much longer than Fred. To tellthe truth, Fred had the "Riley cut," as the boys called it, so that hishair would not attract so much attention.
Fred had all the temper that is supposed to go with red hair. Perhapsred-haired people only seem more quick tempered because everybody "pickson them" so! Bobby was quite as boisterous as his chum, but he was morecautious and had some control over his emotions. Nobody ever calledBobby Blake a coward, however.
He was a plump-cheeked, snub-nosed boy, with a wide, smiling mouth,dancing brown eyes, and an active, sturdy body. Like his chum, he wasten years old.
"Thought you had to work all this forenoon, cleaning the back yard?"said Bobby. "That's why I stayed home. 'Fraid some of the otherfellows would want me to go off with them, and we agreed to go toPlunkit's Creek this afternoon, you know."
"You bet you!" agreed Fred. "I got a dandy can of worms. Found 'emunder that pile of rubbish in the yard when I hauled it out."
"But you haven't cleared up all that old yard so soon?" determinedBobby, shaking his head.
Fred grinned again. "No," he said. "I caught Buster Shea. He's a goodfellow, Buster is. I got him to do it for me, and paid him a cent, andmy ten glass agates, and two big alleys, and a whole cage-trap full o'rats--five of them--we caught in our barn last night. He's goin' totake 'em home and see if he can tame 'em, like Poley Smith did."
"Huh!" snorted Bobby, "Poley's are _white_ rats. You can't tame reg'larrats."
"That wasn't for me to tell him," returned Fred, briskly. "Busterthinks he can. And, anyway, it was a good bargain without the rats.He'll clean the yard fine."
"Then let's get a lunch from Meena and I'll find my fish-tackle, andwe'll start at once," exclaimed Bobby, jumping up.
"Ain't you got to see your mother first?"
"She knows I'm going. She won't mind when I go, as long as I get backin time for supper. And then--she ain't so particular 'bout what I dojust now," added Bobby, more slowly.
"Jolly! I wish my mother was like that," breathed Fred, with a sigh oflonging.
"Huh! I ain't so sure I like it," confessed Bobby. "There's somethin'goin' on in this house, Fred."
"What do you mean?" demanded his chum, staring at him.
"Pa and mother are always talkin' together, and shutting the door so Ican't come in. And they look troubled all the time--I see 'em, whenthey stare at me so. Something's up, and I don't know what it is."
"Mebbe your father's lost all his money and you'll have to go down andlive in one of those shacks by the canal--like B
uster Shea's folks,"exclaimed the consoling Fred Martin.
"No. 'Tain't as bad as that, I guess. Mother's gone shopping for a lotof new clothes to-day--I heard her tell Pa so at breakfast. So it ain'tmoney. It--it's just like it is before Christmas, don't you know, Fred?When folks are hiding things around so's you won't find 'em beforeChristmas morning, and joking about Santa Claus, and all that."
"Crickey! Presents?" exclaimed Fred. "'Tain't your birthday coming,Bob?"
"No. I had my birthday, you know, two months ago."
"What do you s'pose it can be, then?"
"I haven't a notion," declared Bobby, shaking his head. "But it'ssomething about me. Something's going to happen me--I don't know what."
"Bully!" shouted Fred, suddenly smiting him on the shoulder. "Do yousuppose they're going to let you go to Rockledge with me this fall?"
"Rockledge School? No such luck," groaned Bobby. "You see, motherwon't hear of that. Your mother has a big family, Fred, and she canspare you--"
"Glad to get rid of me for a while, I guess," chuckled the red-hairedboy.
"Well, my mother isn't. So I can't go to boarding school with you,"sighed Bobby.
"Well," said the restless Fred, "let's get a move on us if we're goingto Plunkit's."
"We must get some lunch," said Bobby, starting up once more. "Say! hasMeena got the toothache again?"
"She didn't have her head tied up. But she's real cross," admittedFred.
"She'll have the toothache if I ask for lunch, I know," grumbled Bobby."She always does. She says boys give her the toothache."
Nevertheless, he led the way to the kitchen. There the tall, angularSwede cast an unfavorable light blue eye upon them.
"I ban jes' clean up mine kitchen," she complained.
"We just want a lunch to take fishing, Meena," said Master Bobby,hopefully.
"You don't vant loonch to fish mit," declared Meena. "You use vor-rms."
Fred giggled. He was always giggling at inopportune times. Meenaglared at him with both light blue eyes and reached for the red flannelbandage she always kept warm back of the kitchen range.
"I ban got toothache," she said. "I can't vool mit boys," and sheproceeded to tie the long bandage around her jaws and tied it so thatthe ends--like long ears--stood right up on top of her head.
"But you can give us just a little," begged Bobby. "We won't be backtill supper time."
This seemed to offer some comfort to the hard-working girl, and shemumbled an agreement, while she shuffled into the pantry to get thelunch ready. She did not speak English very well at any time, and whenher face was tied up, it was almost impossible to understand her.
Sometimes, if Meena became offended, she would insist upon waiting ontable with this same red bandage about her jaws--even if the family hadcompany to dinner! But in many ways she was invaluable to Mrs. Blake,so the good lady bore Meena's eccentricities.
By and by the Swedish girl appeared with a box of luncheon. The boysdared not peek into it while they were under her eye, but they thankedher and ran out of the house. Fred was giggling again.
"She looks just like a rabbit--all ears--with that thing tied around herhead," he said.
"Whoever heard of a rabbit with red ears?" scoffed Bobby.
He was investigating the contents of the lunch box. There were nice hamsandwiches, minced eggs with mayonnaise, cookies, jumbles, a big pieceof cheese, and two berry tarts.
"Oh, Meena's bark is always worse than her bite," sighed Bobby, withthanksgiving.
"And _this_ bite is particularly nice, eh?" said Fred, grinning at hisown pun.
"Guess we won't starve," said Bobby.
"Besides, there is a summer apple tree right down there by thecreek--don't you know? If the apples are all yellow, you can't eatenough to hurt you. If they are half yellow it'll take a lot to hurtyou. If they're right green and gnarly, about two means a hurry-up callfor Dr. Truman," and Fred Martin spoke with strong conviction, havinghad experience in the matter.
Bobby Blake at Rockledge School; or, Winning the Medal of Honor Page 1