“Arnold Baxter and this Buddy spoke about a mining claim, and about some papers,” burst out Tom. “I’d like to wager he is the same chap!”
“If he is, you want to beware of him,” responded Randolph Rover gravely. “He is your father’s deadliest enemy.”
“I’ll remember that,” said Dick, and his brothers nodded. The matter was talked over for several hours, but brought little satisfaction.
On New Year’s Day came another fall of snow, and the lads spent the afternoon in a regular snowballing match among themselves and with the hired man. Poor Jack caught it on all sides, and after quarter of an hour’s bombardment was glad enough to run to the barn, for shelter. “But it’s great sport,” he grinned, as he almost stood on his head trying to get from the back of his neck a soft snowball which Tom had planted there.
The following day they started back for Putnam Hall, and on the way met Larry, Frank, Fred, and a number of others. When Ithaca was reached a surprise awaited the crowd. The weather was so cold that the ice impeded transportation, and the Golden Star was not making her usual trips to Cedarville and other points.
“Here’s a state of things!” cried, Tom. “What’s to do—walk to Putnam Hall?”
“Well, hardly, seeing that it is a good number of miles and the weather is bitterly cold.”
“Well, if we can’t walk and can’t ride, how are we to get there?” came from Sam.
“That’s the conundrum, Brudder Bones,” laughed Larry, imitating a negro minstrel. “I’se gib it up, sah!”
“It’s no laughing matter,” said Dick. “We might stay in Ithaca over night, but traveling may be no better in the morning.”
“Let us send a telegram to Captain Putnam for instructions,” suggested Fred, and soon the following message was prepared and sent to the Hall by way of Cedarville:
“Six of us are held up at Ithaca by the cold. How shall we come on?”
This message was forwarded without delay, and while awaiting an answer Dick and his brothers took a walk through the town.
They were passing down the main street when Sam uttered a short cry.
“Hullo, there is Josiah Crabtree!”
“Where?” questioned Dick with deep interest.
“Across the way. He has just entered the jewelry store on the corner.”
“Say, perhaps he’s buying a wedding ring,” blurted out Tom before he stopped to think.
“Tom, that matter is no joke,” came from Dick, as his face grew red. “I sincerely hope, for Dora Stanhope’s sake, that he never marries, Dora’s mother.”
“Oh, so do I,” answered Tom readily.
“Why, he isn’t fit to be stepfather to a dog!”
“Let us look into the window and see what he is doing,” suggested Dick uneasily, for he could not get it out of his head but that his brother’s guess might be correct.
The window was broad and clear, and they looked through it into the shop with ease. Josiah Crabtree stood at the counter, talking to a clerk, who presently brought forth a tray of plain rings.
“It is a wedding ring, as sure as you are born!” cried Tom.
“I’m going in,” said Dick in a low tone. “Wait for me here,” and he entered the establishment. There were counters an both sides, and he walked to a position directly opposite to that occupied by the ex-schoolmaster.
“I wish to see some cheap scarf pins,” he said to the clerk who came to wait on him, and the man hurried off to bring on the articles mentioned.
“And is this the latest style of wedding ring?” Dick heard Josiah Crabtree say in a low voice.
“Yes, sir, the very latest—and very tasty,” answered the clerk who was waiting on him.
“I wish two, one for the lady and one for—ahem—myself.”
“Yes, sir—quite the style now for a gentleman to have a ring. Want them engraved, of course.”
“Yes. Here is a paper with the sizes and what is to be engraved upon each. How much will they be with the engraving?”
“Six dollars each, sir.”
“Six dollars! Don’t you make a reduction on taking two?” asked Crabtree, who was a good deal of a miser.
“We can throw off a dollar on the pair,” answered the clerk, after consulting the proprietor of the shop.
“I didn’t expect to pay over ten dollars.”
“We can give you this style for ten dollars.”
“No, I want the latest—to please the lady.”
“Humph!” muttered Dick. “You’ll never please Mrs. Stanhope with any ring.”
“Eleven dollars is the lowest we can take.”
“And when will the rings be ready for me?”
“Day after tomorrow. We might do them quicker, but we have a great deal of engraving ahead.”
“Day after tomorrow will do, for I do not wish them until next week,” answered Josiah. “Here is my card. I am stopping at the American House in this city.”
“Yes, sir. Do you want the rings sent?”
“No, I will call for them,” concluded the ex-teacher, and hurried from the place. Sam and Tom saw him coming, and dodged out of sight around the corner.
Dick had taken in all that was said and had in the meantime picked out a cheap scarf pin which cost but ten cents. As soon as Crabtree was gone he paid for the pin, shoved it into his pocket, and rejoined his brothers, to whom he told the particulars of what had occurred.
“He intends to marry Mrs. Stanhope next week,” he declared bitterly. “I would give almost all I’m worth to stop that wedding.”
“Gracious, but you do think a heap of Dora!” said Tom slyly. “Well, I don’t blame you. She is a splendid girl—eh, Sam?”
“That’s right,” answered Sam.
“But, Dick, why not put up a job on old Crabtree?”
“What kind of a job?”
“Find out just when he wants to get married and then send him a letter from Yale or some other college, requesting him to come on at once if he wants a certain position. That will cause another delay, and maybe Mrs. Stanhope will get sick of him.”
“Oh, if only we could do something like that!” cried his elder brother quickly. “I wish I could send him away out West.”
“We’ll manage it somehow—” put in Tom.
“Sam, what wonderful ideas you have for your years!”
“Oh; I take after my big brothers,” answered the youngest Rover modestly.
Late in the evening a telegram was received from Captain Putnam:
“Remain in Ithaca over night, at the American House. Will send word how to get here in the morning.”
“The American House!” ejaculated Dick. “That is where old Crabtree is stopping.”
“If only we can have some fun with the old chap!” sighed Tom.
The six boys marched to the hotel in a body, told their story, and showed the telegram to the clerk.
“All right,” said the clerk. “We’ve had cadets stop here before. I have a big room on the second floor, with two large beds in it. Will that do?”
“That suits me,” said Larry.
“Is Mr. Josiah Crabtree stopping here?” questioned Tom.
“Yes. He has the room next to the one I mentioned—his is No. 13, and yours will be No. 14.”
“All right; thanks,” answered Tom dryly, and immediately began to lay plans for playing a joke on the old teacher.
“We don’t want to let Mr. Crabtree know we are stopping here,” he said to the clerk later on. “He is no longer a teacher at the Hall, and we would rather not meet.”
“Shall I put you in another room?”
“Oh, no; only don’t tell him we are here.”
“I’ll remember that, sir.”
As soon as the boys had been shown to the big room, Tom turned to his fellows. “I wa
nt each of you to chip in ten cents,” he said.
“What for?” came in a chorus.
“For the purpose of getting square with old Crabby.”
“I don’t see the connection,” said Larry. “Kindly be a little more definite.”
“You’ll see, or hear, the connection a little later on,” answered Tom. “Quick, shell out and I’ll promise you your money’s worth, or return the amount with legal interest.”
The fifty cents was quickly collected, and, adding ten cents of his own, Tom ran from the hotel. “No fish market open at this time of night,” he said to himself.
“I’ll have to try a restaurant,” and hurried into the first place which came into sight.
“Have you any crabs?” he asked, of the waiter who came to him.
“Yes, sah; very fine, sah. Want some soft-shell, sah?”
“I don’t care whether they are soft-shell or as hard as rocks. I want live crabs, the most active kind you have in stock.”
The waiter stared in amazement, then called the owner of the restaurant.
“You want live crabs?”
“I do—strong, active, go-ahead crabs, and I want them in a box.”
“Is this a joke?”
“It will be—when the crabs get to work,” answered Tom with a wink.
“Oh, I understand,” laughed the restaurant keeper. “How many?”
“What are they worth?”
“Good nippers are worth ten cents apiece.”
“Give me six, and mind you put them in a strong box for me.”
Five minutes later Tom left the restaurant with the live crabs tucked safely away in a shoe box under his overcoat.
CHAPTER XXII
FUN AT THE HOTEL
It was no easy matter for Tom to get into the room Josiah Crabtree was occupying, but after trying a good number of keys, fished up here, there, and everywhere, one was at last found that fitted the lock.
Striking a match, Tom entered the room quickly, drew back the sheet of the bed, dumped in the crabs, and then pulled the sheet up to its original place.
“He’s coming!” whispered Sam, who stood guard at the door. “Hide, Tom,” and then he ran back to the big room adjoining.
Finding he could not escape, Tom threw the box under the bed and rushed to a closet in the corner. Here he crouched down behind a large trunk left in the place on storage. He had scarcely secreted himself when Josiah Crabtree came in. He had shoved his key in the lock, but had failed to notice that the lock-bolt was already turned back.
“Oh, what a cold night,” muttered the ex-school teacher as he lit the gas. “A warm bed will feel fine.”
“I reckon it will be warm enough,” thought Tom.
As the room was scantily heated, Crabtree lost no time in disrobing. Having donned a long night robe, he turned off the gas, flung the sheets back, and leaped into bed.
Exactly ten seconds of silence followed. Then came a yell calculated to raise the dead.
“Whow! What’s this? Oh! What’s got me by the legs? Oh, oh! oh! I’m being eaten up alive! Let go there! Oh, dear!”
And with additional yells, Josiah Crabtree leaped straight out of bed, one crab hanging to his left knee, several on his feet, and one, which he had caught hold of clinging to the back of his hand. At once he began to do an Indian war-dance around the apartment, knocking the furniture right and left.
“Let go there! What on earth can they be? Oh, my toe is half off—I know it is! Let go!” And then he struggled toward the gas jet, but before he could light it Tom had slipped out of the apartment, closing the door behind him. The banging of furniture continued, and then came a crash, as the washstand went over, carrying with it a bowl, a soap tray, and a large, pitcher filled with water. The icy water gushed over Crabtree’s feet, making him shiver with the cold, but the crabs were undaunted and only clung the closer.
The noise soon aroused the entire hotel, and the clerk, several bell-boys, and finally the proprietor, rushed to the scene. The door was flung wide open.
“Have you been drinking, sir? How dare you disturb the hotel in this fashion?” demanded the proprietor.
“The crabs! Take them off!” yelled Crabtree, continuing to dance around.
“Crabs? What made you bring crabs up here?”
“I—I—oh, my toes! Take them off!” shrieked Josiah Crabtree, and kicked out right and left. One of the crabs was flung off, to land in the hotel proprietor’s face and to catch the man by the nose.
“My nose! He will bite it off!” cried the hotel man. “Kill the thing, Gillett—smash it with a-a-anything!”
And Gillett, the clerk, tried to do so, while the hotel man and Crabtree continued to dance around in the wildest kind of fury. Safe in their own room, the boys laughed until they cried. All had gone to bed, and Tom lost no time in getting under the covers.
“Somebody has played a trick,” began Crabtree when an extra nip on his knee cut him short. “Oh, my, I shall die!” he moaned. “I know I shall die!”
By this time the proprietor of the hotel had freed himself from the crab that had nipped him on the nose. “You won’t die, but you’ll get out of this hotel,” he snarled. “Throw the crabs out of the window,” he continued to his employees, and after a good deal of trouble one crab after another was hurled forth, the window being kept open in the meantime and the icy draught causing Crabtree to shiver as with the ague. As there seemed no help for it the ex-teacher began to dress again with all possible speed.
“If I find out who did this I’ll—I’ll kill him,” moaned Josiah Crabtree. “I’ve been nipped is a hundred places!”
“You’ll leave this hotel!” said the proprietor. “I’ve had enough of you. First the room didn’t suit, then the price was too high, and at dinner and supper you found all manner of fault with the menu. You’ll go, and the quicker, the better.”
“But look here—” began Crabtree.
“I won’t argue with you. Either get out or I’ll have you arrested as a disorderly character.”
“Yes, but—”
“Not a word. Will you go quietly, or shall I have you put out?”
“I’ll—I’ll go!” gasped Josiah Crabtree, and five minutes later he was on the cold street, satchel in hand, and saying all manner of unpleasant things under his breath.
“Oh, Tom!” laughed Sam, and could go no further. Each of the boys had felt like exploding a dozen times. It was not until an hour after that any of them managed to get to sleep.
When they came down in the morning the hotel clerk winked at them. “I’m not saying a word,” he whispered. “But it served the old crank right. Even the boss is doing a little smiling, although he got quite a nip himself.”
“Really, I don’t know what you are talking about,” answered Tom. Then he shut up one eye, stuck his tongue into his cheek, and strolled into the dining room.
“He’s an out-and-out boy, he is,” murmured the clerk, gazing after him.
Breakfast was finished, and the cadets were strolling around the hotel awaiting further instructions from Captain Putnam, when a man drove up to the door in a big livery-stable sleigh.
“I am after some boys bound for Putnam Hall,” he said. “Captain Putnam telegraphed to the boss to bring ‘em up to the Hall in this sleigh.”
“Hurrah!” shouted Sam. “Such a long ride will just suit me!”
“If it doesn’t prove too cold,” was Dick’s comment.
There was but one seat in the turnout, the back being filled with straw and robes. “Take your lunch with you,” said the driver. “For it’s a long trip we have before us, and I reckon a part of the road ain’t none too good.”
The clerk of the hotel was consulted, and soon a big lunch-box was packed, containing sandwiches, cake, and a stone jug of hot coffee. This was stowed away in the straw, a
nd the lads piled in, laughing merrily over the prospect before them.
“Off we go!” shouted Larry, and with a crack of the whip the sleigh started. It was drawn by a heavy pair of horses, who looked well able to get through any snowdrift that might present itself.
Ithaca was soon left behind, and they sped swiftly along a road running northward, a half mile more from the west shore of the lake. The road was level, and somewhat worn by travel, and for the first three miles good time was made.
“If we can continue this gait we’ll reach Putnam Hall by three or four o’clock this afternoon, allowing an hour’s rest at noon,” said the driver in reply to a question put by Frank. “But we have still a number of small hills to climb, and it’s not going to stay as clear as it was early this morning.”
The latter remark was caused by the sun disappearing under heavy clouds. Soon it began to snow, at first lightly, and then heavier and heavier.
“We’re going to catch it!” said Tom, after the noon stop had been taken at a wayside hotel, where they had taken dinner, keeping the boxed lunch for later on. “The snow is four inches deeper than it was.”
On they went again, the snow becoming so thick at last that they could scarcely see a yard before them. It was very cold, and the cadets were glad enough to huddle in the straw, with the robes over them, leaving the driver to pick his way as best he could.
An hour had gone by, and they were wondering if they were anywhere near Cedarville, when a wild shout rang out, and the next instant came a crash, as their sleigh collided with another coming from the opposite direction. A runner of each turnout was smashed, and the occupants of the other sleigh came tumbling in upon the lads in great confusion.
“Great Caesar! what’s this?” groaned Tom as he shifted a weight from his shoulders, and then he stared in amazement as he found himself confronted by Nellie Laning!
“Tom Rover!” burst from the girl’s lips soon as she could recover her breath. “Did you ever!”
“Well, hardly!” murmured Tom, as he helped her to, a sitting position. “You’re coming in on us fast. What’s the trouble? Oh, and there is Grace and your father!”
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