Boys of Oakdale Academy

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by Morgan Scott


  CHAPTER III.

  ROD’S WONDERFUL JUMP.

  Prof. Richardson was giving his attention to the class in physiologywhen Rod Grant returned to the academy. The boy from Texas walkedquietly down the center aisle and took his place in the class. Intruth, as he now appeared, there was nothing about him, save possiblythe deep tan of his cheeks, to give him an appearance different fromthat of any clean, healthy, manly-appearing Eastern youngster. He worea well-fitting suit of dark blue serge, a negligée shirt, and acarelessly knotted crimson four-in-hand tie. On his feet were stout,serviceable, yet distinctly well made and stylish tan shoes.

  Berlin Barker, who had been reciting, sat down. The principal surveyedRod over his gold-rimmed spectacles, which perched precariously on theend of his nose, nodding his head slightly as if inwardly approving ofthe change in the new boy’s appearance.

  “Grant.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “You may recite.”

  Rodney stood up.

  “How many bones are there in the entire skeleton of an adult?”

  “Two hundred, sir.”

  “You may state the number and give the names of the various bones ofthe human arm and hand.”

  Grant did so without hesitation, speaking in a clear, well-modulatedvoice, his language having no touch of the vernacular which PhilSpringer had asserted to be characteristic of a Westerner. His accentand inflection, it is true, differed slightly from that of Easternersin general, but this difference was not sufficient to attract thenotice of a person who was not particularly observing.

  “Very good, Grant,” nodded the principal. “You may be seated. I havethe pleasure of informing this class that I have been enabled, atconsiderable expense and after no end of trouble, to purchase acomplete and perfect human skeleton, which arrived yesterday and is nowstored in the laboratory. I obtained this skeleton for demonstratingpurposes; but, not wishing to disturb those scholars who are naturallynervous or timid, I shall not display it before the school during theperiod of any regular session. To-morrow, however, such members of thisclass as may desire to remain after the last period will be given theprivilege of seeing and examining the skeleton. I wish it understood,however, that no one is positively required to remain for that purpose,and I would suggest that the timid ones do not remain. Class dismissed.”

  “Jiminy!” whispered Cooper in Sleuth Piper’s ear. “Where d’you s’posehe got his old skeleton?”

  “My deduction is,” answered Sleuth, “that he obtained it from acemetery.”

  “What a grave thing to do,” grinned Chipper. “On the dead, it gives mea shiver.”

  At intermission some of the boys gathered near the academy steps andtalked about the skeleton.

  “My eagle eye detected the long, gruesome-looking box in the expressoffice yesterday,” said Piper; “but on lifting one end of it, which Idid, my deduction was that the box, being very light, could notpossibly contain a subject for a funeral. Ever since then the mysteryhas preyed upon me, but at last the prof’s statement has cleared it upto the satisfaction of all concerned.”

  “Be yeou goin’ to see the old thing to-morrer?” questioned Crane.

  “I shall take pleasure in doing so.”

  “Pleasure! Great scissors! I don’t see no fun in lookin’ at a skeleton.The prof is a crank abaout such things; everybody says so.”

  “I sure can’t see the necessity of exhibiting a genuine skeleton beforethe class,” said Rod Grant. “If we were medical students, it would bedifferent; but, as far as I’m concerned, I can acquire all theknowledge I desire about the bones of the human body without examiningsuch human framework at short range.”

  “It can’t be possible,” said Chub Tuttle, “that a fellow who hasscalped schoolmasters and tickled Injuns to death is afraid of aharmless skeleton.”

  “I don’t admit any that I’m afraid of the thing,” returned Grant; “butI simply say, what’s the use?”

  Standing near, Berlin Barker shrugged his shoulders and laughed anunspoken sneer, which caused the warm blood to glow through the tan ofRod’s cheeks. Turning on his heel, Barker joined some fellows who werejumping at the corner of the academy. Grant’s gaze followed him. In amoment or two, urged to do so, Barker, who prided himself on hisability as a jumper, stripped off his coat and entered into competitionwith Jack Nelson.

  Rod drew near and looked on.

  “That’s pretty fair,” he observed, when Berlin, doing his level best,had beaten Nelson by a good six inches.

  Barker turned on him. “Pretty fair, you lead-heeled gas bag! Perhapsyou think you can beat it?”

  “Maybe so,” nodded Rod.

  “I’ll bet ten dollars you can’t come within a foot of my mark.”

  “Keep your money in your clothes, partner; you may need it some.”

  “You’ve been blowing around lately about what you can do, but nobodyhas ever seen you do anything. I’m not from Missouri, but you’ve got toshow me, and there are various other fellows who feel the same way.”

  “I’m out of practice,” said Grant, slowly removing his coat anddropping it to the ground; “but, as long as you’ve put it up to me thatfashion, I opine I’ll have to show you a stunt.”

  Eagerly the boys gathered around to watch the fellow from Texas, whostepped forward with a calm, confident air and toed the mark. Backwardand forward at his sides Grant swung his clenched fists, stooping alittle, while the muscles in his body grew tense. Suddenly he launchedhimself through the air with a long, graceful leap, flinging his feetforward beneath him at the proper moment and planting his heels firmlyand fairly in the turf, coming upright without a falter or a struggle.

  The spectators shouted.

  “Jerusalem!” cried Sile Crane. “He’s beat Berlin, ding my boots if hehain’t!”

  Measurement with a tape showed that the lad from Texas had outjumpedBarker by fully four inches.

  “Great work, Grant,” said Roger Eliot approvingly; but Berlin, chokingwith chagrin and wrath, turned away without a word.

  “Oh, that was right easy,” beamed Rod, accepting his coat from Crane,who had hastened to get it. “Sometime when I’m feeling plenty like itI’ll show you a real jump.”

  “What’s the longest jump you ever made?” asked Piper.

  “I hold the world’s record,” replied Rod unblushingly.

  “Oh, say! what are you giving us?” cried Jack Nelson.

  “Cold facts, my friend. In dire peril of my life, I once made a jumponly equaled by the original owner of the seven league boots.”

  “Tell us abaout it,” urged Crane, scenting a story. “How fur did yeoujump?”

  “Twenty miles.”

  “Wha-what?” gulped Phil Springer. “Oh, say! Now that sus-spoils thewhole story.”

  “Yes,” sighed Crane, “that spiles it. If yeou had only stretched her alittle bit—just within the bounds of reason!”

  “I was well aware, gents,” said Grant, smoothing a wrinkle in his coatsleeve, “that you would think me prevaricating. I presume it’s rightnatural that you should. Nevertheless, I’ll tell the tale. I learnedthe art of jumping from grasshoppers; you know they are great jumpers.Occasionally these pests come down in millions upon the Panhandlecountry. They have been known to eat every blade of grass clean to theroots on a section as big as the State of Rhode Island. They have eveninvaded houses and chewed up muslin window curtains, carpets, rugs, andsimilar articles. Two years ago we had the greatest grasshopper seasonever known in Roberts County. The pests came down on us suddenly inswarms which darkened the sky and blotted out the light of the sun. Iwas out riding the range at the time the advance guard of the varmintsappeared.”

  “Oh, jinks!” hissed Piper. “He said _varmints_!”

  “Some of our boys over on Bitter Crick had sent me with a message tothe ranch, and I started out at an early hour. The ranch house islocated on the south bank of the Canadian River. We were some thirtymiles or mo
re to the north of the river. Shortly after sunrise Iperceived what I took to be a cloud in the sky. It drew nearer withgreat rapidity, and I was looking for a dry gully or some shelter toprotect me from what I took to be a sure enough tornado when the firstsprinkling of grasshoppers settled around me. It didn’t take me longafter that to make out what that cloud was—nothing but grasshoppers.They kept on coming thicker and thicker, until the air was literallyfull of them and the ground was covered to a depth of several inches.The sunshine was blotted so that it was almost as dark as twilight on alate autumn day. The blamed things got in my nose, my ears, my eyes,and they crawled down my neck and filled my hair. It sure was someunpleasant. All I could do was ride along, letting my horse pick hisway; for, not having a compass nor being able to see the sky or thesurrounding country, I had no idea where the river lay.”

  “Yeou sartain was in a scrape, wasn’t ye?” grinned Crane.

  “Wait, my friend—wait. I have not begun to tell you the full extent ofmy horrible dilemma. Once or twice I fancied I smelled something likesmoke, but I paid no heed to this until a sort of dull reddish glowpenetrated that mass of flying insects. Finally, looking back, Iperceived behind me, spreading out on both sides, a gleam like fire. Itwas fire. The dry prairie grass was burning, and the wind was sweepingthe flames down on me with the speed of an express train. In a measurethat accounted for the tremendous number of grasshoppers now swarmingabout me and beating against me in their flight. They were being drivenahead of the flames, and as the fire advanced their numbers becamegreater and greater, until I could scarcely breathe without my nostrilsbeing plugged by grasshoppers.”

  “Horrible!” snickered Cooper.

  “It was horrible,” said Grant solemnly. “When I realized my peril fromthat onrushing conflagration I put spurs to my horse in a hopelesseffort to keep ahead of it. It was like galloping through the darknessof night. The beating and rustling of grasshoppers’ wings, which hadsounded faint at first, had gradually risen until it was like theroaring of a gale. The pressure of insects against my back helped in ameasure to carry me onward. Finally, however, my horse plunged into agopher hole and broke its leg. Poor beast!

  “But think of me, gents—think of me some! There I was dismounted in thepath of that fearful prairie fire. Desperately I succeeded in rising,and madly I stumbled on knee deep amid squirming grasshoppers. Thegloom was penetrated in a way by the light of the flames, and I couldfeel the scorching heat upon the back of my neck. Suddenly right aheadof me I beheld a deep fissure in the plain. The bottom of the fissurewas packed with layers of grasshoppers many feet in depth. For a momentI hesitated, and then, as the fire rushed upon me, I launched myself ina desperate spring for the opposite side of the fissure.

  “At that very moment, apparently aroused, despite their weariness, bythe close approach and searing heat of the flames, the grasshoppers inthat gully rose in a solid mass. They actually lifted me and bore meupward for a few moments. True, I was nearer smothered than ever beforein all my life. Like a drowning person, I sought to rise higher bypaddling with my hands and treading with my feet.

  “I rose, gents—I sure did. I kept on rising, too, until I opined I was,pretty near the top of that tremendous mass of grasshoppers, which wassweeping along the surface of the earth ahead of the fire. I soondiscovered that by paddling gently with feet and hands I could keepmyself up, and to my unbounded relief I perceived that the flyinggrasshoppers were bearing me along with such speed that the flamescould not gain upon me.

  “I don’t know just how long I was in the air, but I do know that atleast twenty good miles of Texas territory was passed over before thatmass of flying grasshoppers became so thinned that I finally sankslowly and gently, like a feather, to the ground. Believe it or not, Ilanded on the south side of the Canadian River, and thus my life wassaved; for when the flames reached the river they could go no farther.

  “That, gents, is, I reckon, beyond the shadow of dispute, the longestjump on record. If any one has ever beaten it, I’d like to meet up withthe party and yield him the palm.”

  The bell clanged; intermission was over.

  “Oh, suffering misery!” groaned Chipper Cooper, staggering toward theacademy door. “Somebody support me. I’m weak and exhausted. That’s whatI call a real w-hopper!”

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