Dick Hamilton's Football Team; Or, A Young Millionaire On The Gridiron
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CHAPTER XXI
READY FOR BLUE HILL
Dick was half wrathful over the action of Mr. Duncaster, and halfbecause of the action of some cadet who must have enticed Grit to town,for a few students, admiring the bulldog had, in times past, often ledhim off with them. Nor was Grit unwilling to go, for he loved action,and by reason of his lessons and his football practice his master hadlittle time to take him out.
"What are you going to do?" asked Paul, as his chum swung around towardthe stable.
"I'm going to find out who took my dog to town, and then I'm going afterhim," was the answer. "He had nerve, who ever he was."
"Do you think Duncaster did it? Because he knew it was your animal?"
"He may have done so, but I doubt it. He's just naturally mean andcranky, and when he found Grit wandering about the street he probablynotified a dog-catcher. I didn't think they were so strict when coolweather set in. Poor Grit! In a pound with a lot of curs! His feelingswill be hurt."
In answer to Dick's inquiries one of the stable men stated that CadetPorter had come and gotten Grit, leading him off by a leash attached tohis collar.
"Did he say I said for him to take Grit?" asked the young millionaire.
"No, sir, I can't say as how he did. But he's been real friendly withthe dog, Mr. Porter has, and Grit knows him. Mr. Porter and Mr. Westonwent off together with him. I hope you don't blame me, Mr. Hamilton,"and the man seemed a bit alarmed.
"No, it wasn't your fault. But, after this, please don't let any onetake Grit without my permission. First thing I know he'll be stolen, andthen Uncle Ezra will be as happy as a lark."
On the way to town Dick and Paul met Porter and Weston returning. Thefaces of both were flushed, and they were smoking cigarettes. Porterseemed ill at ease as he encountered Dick, and the latter resolving tosettle the matter once and for all said:
"What right had you to take my dog, Porter?"
"I'm mighty sorry, Ham," was the contrite answer, and for a changePorter was not blustering and overbearing as he usually was. "You see Itook him in, as I've done once before, and you didn't mind, but----"
"Yes, but this time I _do_ mind!" exclaimed Dick sharply. "He got awayfrom you, didn't he?"
"Yes, I tied him to the leg of the billiard table, while I shot a matchwith Weston. Beat him, too, and I must have felt so jolly over it that Iforgot about Grit. When I went to look for him he was gone--he'd slippedout of his collar. I guess he was lonesome for you. He got home allright, I hope."
"No, he didn't!" replied Dick in no gracious tones.
"He didn't?" Porter was manifestly surprised.
"He's in the pound, and I have to pay ten dollars to get him out."
"Whew! That's tough luck! I'm mighty sorry about it. If I wasn't socounfoundedly short of funds now I'd give you the money for the fineright away. As it is I'll owe it to you."
"No, you won't!" cried our hero sharply. "I'll pay it myself, but don'ttake Grit away again--please." He added the last as he happened toremember that he was captain of the football team, and that Weston,Porter's crony, was a member of the eleven, and that Porter might alsoplay later. It would not do to be on bad terms with them, for the sakeof the team.
"Oh, well, you needn't be stiff about it," murmured Porter. "I didn'tmean any harm. How did I know the dog would get away."
"You didn't, I presume," agreed Dick, a little mollified. "But don't doit again. Come on, Paul."
"You cad!" muttered Porter, as Dick swung around. "I'm beginning tohate you! I'll get even, some day too. You put me off the team!"
"Oh, I wouldn't feel that way," suggested Weston, who was not a half-badchap. "You may get a chance yet."
"Not after this blamed dog incident. Why didn't you have an eye on thebrute?"
"Why should I? It was your affair."
"Oh, well, if that's the way you feel about it, don't come with meagain!" snapped Porter, who was in ill humor.
The pound of the town was in a stable back of one of the policestations, and there Dick found Grit chained up with several other dogsof much lower degree.
"Hello, old boy!" greeted the lad, and Grit nearly broke the chain toleap upon his master.
"Be careful," warned the poundkeeper. "He's got an ugly temper."
"Not when he's treated right," was the answer. "I'll take him along.Here's his collar," for Porter had handed it over before parting fromDick. "I'll take him home. To whom do I pay the ten dollars?"
"To me. Half goes to the town and the other half to the man who causedthe dog to be taken in. Rumcaster is his name, or something like that.He's been here several times since the dog was brought in, asking if thefine was paid. He wants his share, Mr. Rumcaster does."
"Duncaster is my name! Duncaster!" exclaimed a rasping voice, and theman who had been so unpleasant to Dick made his appearance. "And so thedog's owner is here, is he? I guess this will be a lesson to him.Where's my five dollars?"
"Here!" exclaimed Dick suddenly stepping forward.
"Ah, ha! So it's that Hamilton soldier fellow!" exploded Enos Duncaster,as he saw our hero. "It was your dog; eh? You should know better than tolet unmuzzled and unlicensed dogs run loose in the streets. But it'swhat might be expected of a young man who goes to school to learn amurdering trade. Bah! I'm glad it _was_ your dog!"
"The dog is licensed, and was running loose because the cadet who tookhim without my permission did not take care of him," answered Dickquietly.
"Hum! I can't help that young man! The law is the law and I'm entitledto my five dollars. It will keep me in groceries for a week. I don't eatmuch!" and the old man chuckled grimly as he pocketed the bill, andtottered off on his cane.
"Come on Grit, old boy!" called Dick, as he paid over the other fivedollars, and led the now rejoicing animal away.
The young millionaire tried not to feel any resentment against Porter,but it was hard work. Not so much on account of the ten dollars, asbecause of what might have happened to Grit. On his part Porter wascooler than ever toward Dick, but it did not so much matter as our herohad learned all he could about the financial operations of the richlad's father,--and since he knew who held the large number of shares ofelectric stock.
"Not that it's doing dad much good to know," mused the youngmillionaire, "for Duncaster will be more against me than ever now, I'mafraid. He won't even listen to me."
Fortunately the necessity for hard work on the gridiron gave Dick somuch to think about that he did not have much time to worry over thismatter, though he made up his mind to aid his father wheneveropportunity presented.
Hard practice was called for, in preparation for the Blue Hill game, andthe young captain and the coaches were glad to see the snappy playing,and the aggressive spirit manifested.
"I think we can defeat them, after what we did to Haskell," said Dick.
"I do also," agreed Mr. Martin, and Mr. Spencer was no less positive.
It was three days before the game, and the boys were "on edge" andfit to make the battle of their lives. That night Dick was paying avisit in the rooms of Innis Beeby, when George Hall came in.
"What's the matter up in your bungalow?" asked Jim Watkins, coming induring a deep discussion of a new wing shift play.
"Nothing--why?" asked Dick quickly.
"I thought you might be sick. I just saw Dr. Fenwick going in there,"was the answer. "But you seem healthy enough."
"Dr. Fenwick--going to our room!" cried Dick, starting up. "It must bePaul. He wasn't feeling well this evening, and wouldn't come out withme. I'll go see!" and he hastened away.