CHAPTER III
A CURIOUS LAD
"There's Hexter!" exclaimed Jack as he saw the chauffeur slowly runningthe automobile to the garage. "Hello, Hexter, is Snaith all right?"
"I think so," replied the automobilist. "Dr. Mead says the hurt on hishead doesn't amount to much, and that he is suffering mostly from shock.He'll be all right in a day or so."
"That's good," said Jack. "I don't want him to be laid up right after Iwon the race from him."
The students began to disperse, Jack to remove his wet clothes, and theothers to retire to their rooms to get ready for the summons to supper,which would soon sound.
"Why, Mr. Ranger!" exclaimed Socker, the janitor at Washington Hall, ashe saw Jack entering the gymnasium, "you're all wet."
"Yes, it's a trifle difficult to fall in the lake and keep dry,especially at this time of year," went on Jack. "But I say, Socker, getme a couple of good, dry, heavy towels, will you? I want to take arub-down."
"I certainly will, Mr. Ranger. So you fell in the lake, eh?"
"No, I jumped in."
"Jumped in? Why, that reminds me of what happened when I was fighting inthe Battle of the Wilderness, in the Civil War. We were on the march,and we came to a little stream. The captain called for us to jump over,but----"
"Say, Socker, if it's all the same to you will you chop that off there,and make it continued in our next? I'm cold, and I want to rub-down. Getme the towels, and then I'll listen to that yarn. If there's one kind ofa story I like above all others, it's about war. I want to hear whathappened, but not now."
"Do you really? Then I'll tell you after you've rubbed down," and Sockerhurried off after the towels. He was always telling of what he calledhis war experiences, though there was very much doubt that he had everbeen farther than a temporary camp. He repeated the same stories sooften that the boys had become tired of them, and lost no chance toescape from his narratives.
"There you are, Mr. Ranger," went on the janitor as he came back withthe towels. "Now, as soon as you're dry I'll tell you that story aboutthe Battle of the Wilderness."
"You'll not if I know it," said Jack to himself, as he went in the roomwhere the shower-baths were, to take a warm one. "I'll sneak out theback way."
Which he did, after his rub-down, leaving Socker sitting in the mainroom of the gym, waiting for him, and wondering why the lad did not comeout to hear the war story.
Jack reached his room, little the worse for his experience at the lake.He possessed a fine appetite, which he was soon appeasing by vigorousattacks on the food in the dining-room.
"I say, Jack," called Nat, "have you heard the latest?"
"What's that? Has the clock struck?" inquired Jack, ready to have somejoke sprung on him.
"No, but Fred Kaler has composed a song about the race and your rescue.He's going to play it on the mouth-organ, and sing it at the same timeto-night."
"I am not, you big duffer!" cried Fred, throwing a generous crust ofbread at Nat, but first taking good care to see that Martin, themonitor, was not looking.
"Sure he is," insisted Nat.
"Tell him how it goes," suggested Bony.
"It's to the tune of 'Who Put Tacks in Willie's Shoes?'" went on Nat,"and the first verse is something like this----"
"Aw, cheese it, will you?" pleaded Fred, blushing, but Nat went on:
"You have heard about the glorious deeds Of the brave knights of old, But our Jack Ranger beats them all-- He jumped in waters cold And rescued one whom he had beat In a race that he had led, And while he strove to find him, Unto me these words he said:
"Chorus:
"'Never fear, I will rescue you, Dock-- Around you my arms I will lock. I will pull you right out of the hole in the lake, And then upon shore I will you safely take. For though you tried to beat me, In a boat race, tried and true, I came out ahead, Dock, so Wait and I'll rescue you!'"
"How's that?" asked Nat, amid laughter.
"Punk!" cried one student.
"Put it on ice!" added another.
"Can it!"
"Cage it!"
"Put salt on its tail! It's wild!"
"Put a new record in; that one scratches."
These were some of the calls that greeted Nat's rendition of what hesaid was Fred's song.
"I never made that up!" cried the musical student. "I can make betterverse than that."
"Go on, give us the tune," shouted Sam.
"That's right--make him play," came a score of calls.
"Order, young gentlemen, order!" suddenly interrupted the harsh voice ofMartin, the monitor. "I shall be obliged to report you to Dr. Meadunless you are more quiet."
"Send in Professors Socrat and Garlach," advised Jack. "They can keeporder."
"That's it, and we'll get them to sing Fred's song," added Sam Chalmers.
"Ranger--Chalmers--silence!" ordered Martin, and not wishing to be sentto Dr. Mead's office the two lively students, as well as their no lessfun-loving companions, subsided.
Quiet finally reigned in the regions of Washington Hall, for thestudents had to retire to their rooms to study. There were mysteriouswhisperings here and there, however, and occasionally shadowy formsmoved about the corridors, for, in spite of rules against it, the ladswould visit each other in their rooms after hours. Several called onJack to see how he felt after his experience. They found him and NatAnderson busy looking over some gun catalogues.
"Going in for hunting?" asked Sam.
"Maybe," replied Jack. "Say, there are some dandy rifles in this book,and they're cheap, too. I'd like to get one."
"So would I," added Sam.
"And go hunting," put in Bony, cracking his finger knuckles, as iffiring off an air-rifle.
"It would be sport to organize a gun club, and do some hunting," went onJack. "Only I'd like to shoot bigger game than there is around here.Maybe we can----"
"Hark, some one's coming! It's Martin," said Fred Kaler in a whisper.
Jack's hand shot out and quickly turned down the light. Then he boundedinto bed, dressed as he was. Nat followed his example. It was well thatthey did so, for a moment later there came a knock on their door, andthe voice of Martin, the monitor, asked:
"Ranger, are you in bed?"
"Yes," replied our hero.
"Anderson, are you in bed?"
"Yes, Martin."
"Humph! I thought I heard voices in your room."
Jack replied with a snore, and the monitor passed on.
"You fellows had better take a sneak," whispered Jack, when Martin'sfootsteps had died away. "He's watching this room, and he may catchyou."
The outsiders thought this was good advice, and soon Nat and Jack wereleft alone.
"Did you mean that about a gun club?" asked Nat.
"Sure," replied his chum, "but we'll talk about it to-morrow. Better goto sleep. Martin will be sneaking around."
Jack was up early the next morning, and went down to the lake for a rowbefore breakfast. As he approached the float, where he kept his boat, hesaw a student standing there.
"That looks like the new chap--Will Williams," he mused. "I'll ask himto go for a row."
He approached the new lad, and was again struck by a peculiar look ofsadness on his face.
"Good-morning," said Jack pleasantly. "My name is Ranger. Wouldn't youlike to go for a row?"
Will Williams turned and looked at Jack for several seconds withoutspeaking. He did not seem to have heard what was said.
"Perhaps he's a trifle deaf," thought Jack, and he asked again moreloudly:
"Wouldn't you like to go for a row?"
"I don't row," was the answer, rather snappily given.
"Well, I guess I can manage to row both of us," was our hero's reply.
"No, I'm not fond of the water."
"Perhaps you like football or baseball better," went on Jack, a littlepuzzled. "We have a good eleven."
"I'm not allowed to play football."
"Maybe you'd like to go for a walk," persisted Jack, who had the kindestheart in the world, and who felt sorry for the lonely new boy. "I'llshow you around. I understand you just came."
"Yes; I arrived yesterday morning."
"Would you like to take a walk? I don't know but what I'd just as soondo that as row."
"No, I--I don't care for walking."
The lad turned aside and started away from the lake, without even somuch as thanking Jack for his effort to make friends with him.
"Humph!" mused Jack as he got into his boat. "You certainly are a queercustomer. Just like a snail, you go in your house and walk off with it.There's something wrong about you, and I'm going to find out what it is.Don't like rowing, don't like walking, afraid of the water--youcertainly are queer."
Jack Ranger's Gun Club; Or, From Schoolroom to Camp and Trail Page 4