CHAPTER VI
MR. DUNCASTER AGAIN
"I say, Dick, are you in?"
It was a cautious voice making this inquiry after a gentle knock at thedoor of the room where our hero and Paul Drew lived when they were notplaying football, drilling with the other cadets, or reciting theirlessons.
"Who is it?" whispered Dick to his chum.
"Blessed if I know. Sounds like Beeby, and again it might be Teddy.Going to let him in?"
"Sure. No one's around this early and it's safe. Unbolt the door. I'vedone enough boning to-night."
It was shortly after Dick had received the letter from his father, inwhich the disquieting news was given, and the two cadets were preparingtheir lessons for the morrow.
But as this was ever-wearying work, to be disposed of as quickly aspossible in case any pleasure was available, the two friends welcomedthe disturbing knock.
"Come on in," invited our hero as his chum opened the portal. "What'sup, anyhow."
"Something doing," replied Innis Beeby cheerfully as he slid inside theroom, and carefully closed the door. "Are you fellows ready for a littlefun?"
"It depends on what kind," answered Dick. "Are you going to run one ofthe six-pounders up on the chapel steps, or turn the flag upside down?"
"Neither. But did you know that Porter and Weston were giving a littlespread to-night?"
"A spread? No! And those fellows only freshmen of the freshest kind,"answered Paul. "Say, we ought to take 'em down a peg."
"Exactly what I think," agreed Beeby. "I came over to see if you didn'twant to join in the fun. We're going to invade their spread, take Porterand Weston captive, and carry them into town."
"Then what?" inquired Paul eagerly. He was always ready for fun.
"We'll make them do 'sentry-go' in front of the town jail. Have themmarch up and down with wooden guns on their shoulders. Maybe they won'tfeel sick!"
"But will they do it?" asked Paul.
"They'll have to if we make a freshman matter of it. Otherwise they'llgo to Coventry for the rest of the term. Oh, they'll do it all right.How about it, Dick?"
Now our hero had shown a curious lack of interest in the matter ofhazing Porter and Weston, from the time their names were mentioned. Heseemed to cool down all at once, though he had always done his shareheretofore in making the first year men feel their inferior positions.
"Well?" asked Innis Beeby, after a pause, as he glanced at the youngmillionaire.
"Oh, what's the use?" inquired Dick. "Can't we let 'em alone? It mightmake trouble in the football team if we put them through the thirddegree too strong."
"Bosh!" cried Innis. "They need it. Besides, if any fellows take offenseat a little hazing they're not fit to play on the football team. Eh,Paul?"
"Sure not."
But Dick was thinking what effect his participation in the affair wouldhave, especially when he still wanted to get some information fromPorter, and depended on keeping in with that worthy in order to secureit.
"Come along, Dick," urged Innis.
"Oh, I don't know," and the young millionaire paused before a case fullof books--a case seldom opened. "I ought to do some boning, and----"
"What!" cried Beeby aghast. "Don't speak of such a thing again. Younearly gave me heart disease. Come along and have some fun. We don'toften have a chance at it, but there is a faculty pow-wow to-night, andthe coast is unusually clear. That's why Porter had his spread I guess.We'll go over, make a rough house, and take him and his friend out foran airing. Then we'll all feel better. Come on, Dick."
There was no help for it, and, somewhat against his will, our hero madeready to accompany his chums. He did not like to go, as he feared to geton bad terms with Porter.
It was a very much surprised party of surreptitious midnight feasters onwhich our hero and his chums burst half an hour later. The spread wasbeing held in the apartments of Porter, for he had hired a sitting roomas well as a dormitory chamber. Both were well filled with most of themembers of the "sporting" set.
"What does this mean?" demanded Porter indignantly, as the upperclassmen made their appearance. "I think I did not invite you to mylittle affair."
"No, we didn't wait for a bid, Porter, though it was mighty careless ofyou to overlook us," retorted Beeby. "But we came, anyhow. Now I guessyou can come with us, Porter and Weston. We're going to initiate youinto the mysteries of the gun club."
There were significant glances from the other cadets for they knew whatthis meant. Many of them had been through it on previous occasions.
"We're not coming!" exclaimed Porter aggressively.
"No, and you haven't any right to interrupt us in this manner,"declared his crony with dignity. "Leave here at once."
"With you, dear friend, and not otherwise," put in Teddy Naylor. "Comeon, it's part of the game."
But Porter and Weston could not see it that way. They protested, andmade a show of fighting. They appealed to the other cadets, but thelatter said they had better comply with the demands of the upperclassmen.
Even then the two cronies remained ugly, and made a show of resistance,until Beeby and the others, tired of the delay, made a sudden rush, tiedthe captives with ropes that had been brought for the purpose, andmarched them quietly from the building.
"Here, you let go of that rope, Hamilton!" cried Porter, as he saw Dickholding one end of the cords that bound the hands of the two captivestogether.
"Can't do it--nohow," was the grim answer, and yet Dick wished that hemight, for he was afraid that this would prove an insurmountable barrierto future talks with the son of the man who was seeking to ruin Mr.Hamilton.
"Then I'll get even with you," threatened Porter. "I'll make you fellowssorry for this night's work, you see if I don't."
"Don't mind him--he's talking like a cannon-swab," said Beeby with achuckle.
In a little while the two captives had been placed in front of the townjail, with instructions to march up and down before it, bearing on theirshoulders grotesque wooden guns made for the hazing purpose.
"And if you desert inside of an hour, you know what it means,"threatened Jim Watkins. "You'll belong to the Down and Out Club afterthat. So keep on the job."
Porter and Weston knew better than to disobey, for their chums, who hadbeen present at the spread, had whispered to them of the dire penaltiesthat would follow a disregard of the hazing instructions of the upperclassmen. So the two cronies marched gravely up and down the darkstreet, while occasional pedestrians paused to gaze, chuckle silently asthey realized what was in progress.
"I'm not going to stand it!" indignantly declared Porter after a halfhour of the ordeal.
"We'd better," counseled Weston. "I don't want to stay at Kentfield fora month with not a soul to speak to but you. We've got to do it."
"All right. But I'll get even with Hamilton for this. I think he startedit. I'll get square with him."
"Same here," and Weston shifted his gun to the other shoulder, andmarched forward wearily.
The night wore on, and in the shadows of several buildings the upperclassmen who had originated the joke on the two freshmen, looked on andchuckled in mirth. Occasionally they called out a remark to thesentries. More people passed, and some paused to laugh, to the anger ofPorter and Weston. Policemen walked by, but they were familiar with thatform of hazing and did not make any complaint of the odd sight. Some ofthe prisoners in the jail peered out from their barred windows andjeered. All this was bitterness to the two.
After a time Beeby and his chums wearied of the joke, and on theinvitation of George Hall went to a nearby soda fountain for somechocolate.
"They'll skip out as soon as we're gone," declared Ray Dutton.
"No, I think they'll stick," declared Innis. "Anyhow, Dick, you go backand take a look. We'll keep your chocolate for you."
Our hero did not relish the task, but did not want to object.Accordingly, he walked back to the corner where he could look down thestreet and catch a glimpse of the two ca
det jail-sentries. They werestill on their posts.
Dick turned back to join his chums, and, as did so he almost collidedwith a man coming around the corner in an opposite direction.
"I beg your pardon!" exclaimed the cadet. "I didn't see you."
"Very evidently," was the rasping reply. "That's the trouble with youyoung men, you never look where you're going. Ah! I see, another one ofthe soldiers--and if it isn't the same one who nearly ran me down theother night in an automobile."
Dick recognized the aged Mr. Duncaster.
"I--I'm afraid it is," our hero faltered. "I--I didn't mean to, I'msure. I didn't hurt you this time."
"No, but it's not your fault that you didn't. You came around thatcorner under a full head of steam. Have you run down any more persons inyour auto?" Enos Duncaster asked sarcastically.
"No, and that time it wasn't my fault."
"Hum--let's see--your name is Hamilton--son of Mortimer Hamilton--I knowhim--a hard man in a bargain. Well, I'll let you off this time. Who arethose two young men marching up and down over there--chums of yours?"
"Yes--we--we're hazing them," faltered Dick.
"Ha! Hazing! A senseless and foolish proceeding! But just what I wouldexpect of you soldier lads--heartless and cruel. Well, let me pass, I'vewasted enough time on you."
Mr. Duncaster's voice was grim and harsh. He brushed by Dick roughly andpassed on down the street, muttering to himself about the foolishness ofyouths in general, and in particular regarding those boys who attendedmilitary schools.
Dick, having assured himself that the hazed ones were still patrollingtheir post, returned to his chums and helped get away with somechocolate soda.
There was a telegram awaiting our hero when he reached his room laterthat night, Porter and Weston having been released from their hazingduties.
"Hum, I guess that's from dad," mused Dick. "I wonder what the newdevelopments are?"
Rapidly he scanned the few words. They were these:
"Dear Dick: Enos Duncaster is the name of the man who holds a lot of trolley stock. See if you can locate him for me. I understand he lives somewhere in the vicinity of your academy. Trouble is thickening. I need help."
"Whew!" whistled Dick. "Enos Duncaster! He's the man who holds thestock, and whom both sides are after. And I'm in his bad books if ever afellow was! Whew! I can see the finish of this without any spectacles!"
Dick Hamilton's Football Team; Or, A Young Millionaire On The Gridiron Page 7