“Clear up that muss, both of you,” said Dick to Sam and Fred. But the latter demurred. It was Sam’s fault—he started the racket.
“I won’t touch it.” And Fred proceeded to go to bed.
“I reckon we had best dust,” said one of the boys from another dormitory.
“So you had!” burst out Tom. “I hear somebody coming already,” and in a twinkle the outsiders ran for their various quarters, leaving the occupants of Dormitory No. 6 to fix up matters as best they could.
It was no easy job to straighten out the washstand, clear up the general muss, and disrobe. But the boys were on their mettle, and in less than two minutes the light was out and all were under the covers, although, to be sure, Sam had his shoes still on and Tom was entirely clothed.
“Boys, what is the row up here?” The call came from Captain Putnam himself. He was ascending the front stairs, lamp in hand, and attired in a long dressing gown.
As no one answered, he paused in the upper hallway and asked the question again. Then he looked into one dormitory after another.
“All asleep, eh? Well, see that you don’t wake up again as soon as my back is turned,” he went on, and soon after walked below again, a faint smile on his features. He knew that boys were bound to be more or less mischievous, no matter how strict his regulations.
“I’ll tell you what, the captain’s a brick!” whispered Tom, as he began to disrobe noiselessly.
“So he is,” answered Frank. “You wouldn’t catch old Crabtree acting that way. He’d have bad every cadet out of bed and sent half a dozen of us down to the guard-room.”
“I guess the captain remembers when he was a cadet himself,” remarked Dick. “I’ve heard that they cut up some high pranks at West Point.”
“George Strong would be just as kind,” came from Tom. “But say, I am growing awfully tired.”
“So am I,” came from several others,
Then the good-night word was passed, and soon all of the cadets were sound asleep, never dreaming of the surprise which awaited them in the morning.
CHAPTER VII
WHO WAS GUILTY?
“Boys, I’ve had my trunk looted!”
“And I’ve had my trousers’ pockets picked!”
“And the half-dollar I left on the bureau is gone!”
Such were some of the excited exclamations which the Rover boys heard when they went downstairs the next morning. The speakers were the youths who occupied Dormitories Numbers 3 and 4, at the rear of the main upper hall. An inquiry among the lads elicited the information that everybody had suffered excepting one boy, who said he had not had any money on hand.
“I spent my last cent for the spread,” he grinned. “I guess I’m the lucky one.”
The news of the robberies created a profound sensation throughout Putnam Hall, and both Captain Putnam and George Strong were very much disturbed.
“We never had such a thing occur before,” said the captain, and he ordered a strict investigation.
All told, something like thirty-two dollars were missing, and also a gold watch, a silver watch, and several shirt-studs of more or less value. Among the shirt-studs was one set with a ruby belonging to a cadet named Weeks.
The investigation revealed nothing of importance. The robbery had been committed during the night, while the owners of the money and the various articles slept.
“I must get at the bottom of this affair,” said Captain Putnam. “The honor of the academy is at stake.”
He talked to all of those who had lost anything and promised to make the matter good. Then he asked each if he had any suspicions regarding the thief or thieves. No one had, and for the time being it looked as if the case must fall to the ground.
Those who had been at the feast hardly knew what to say or to do. Should they tell the captain of the strange figure Sam had seen in the hallway?
“I’ll tell him, and shoulder the blame, if you fellows are willing,” said Sam, after a long discussion. “Fun is one thing, and shielding a thief is another.”
“But what can you tell?” asked Fred. “You do not know that that person, was the thief.”
“More than likely he was,” came from Dick.
“And if he was, who was he?” went on Fred. “If you tell Captain Putnam you’ll simply get us all into trouble.”
“I vote that Sam makes a clean breast of it,” said Frank, and Larry said the same. This was just before dinner, and immediately after the midday meal had been finished the youngest Rover went up to the master of the Hall and touched him on the arm.
“I would like to speak to you in private and at once, Captain Putnam,” he said.
“Very well, Rover; come with me,” was the reply, and Captain Putnam led the way to his private office.
“I suppose I should have spoken of this before,” said Sam, when the two were seated. “But I didn’t want to get the others into trouble. As it is, Captain Putnam, I want to take the entire blame on my own shoulders.”
“The blame of what, Samuel?”
“Of what I am going to tell you about. We voted to tell you, but I don’t want to be a tattle-tale and get the others into trouble along with me.”
“I will hear what you have to say,” returned the master of the Hall briefly.
“Well, sir, you know it was Dick’s birthday yesterday, and we boys thought we would celebrate a bit. So we had a little blow-out in our room.”
“Was that the noise I heard last night?”
“The noise you heard was from our room, yes. But that isn’t what I was getting at,” stammered Sam. “We set a guard out in the hallway to keep watch.”
“Well?”
“I was out in the hall part of the time, and I saw a dark figure in the rear hallway prowling around in a most suspicious manner. It went into Dormitory No. 3 and then came out and disappeared toward the back stairs.”
“This is interesting. Who was the party?”
“I couldn’t make out.”
“Was it a man or a woman?
“A man, sir, or else a big boy. He had something like a shawl over his shoulders and was dressed in black or dark-brown.”
“You saw him go in and come out of one of the sleeping rooms?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And then he went down the back stairs?”
“He either went down the stairs or else into one of the back rooms. I walked back after a minute or two, but I didn’t see anything more of him, although I heard a door close and heard a key turn in a lock.”
“Was this before I came up or after?”
“Before, sir. We went to sleep right after you came up.”
“Who was present at the feast?” And now Captain Putnam prepared to write down the names.
“Oh, sir; I hope you won’t—won’t—”
“I’ll have to ask you for the names, Samuel. I want to know who was on foot last night as well as who was robbed.”
“Surely you don’t think any of us was guilty?” cried Sam in sudden horror.
“I don’t know what to think. The names, please.”
“I—I think I’ll have to refuse to give them, Captain Putnam.”
“Of course all the boys who sleep in your dormitory were present?”
“I said I would take this all on my own shoulders, Captain Putnam. Of course, you know I wouldn’t have confessed at all; but I don’t wish to give that thief any advantage.”
“Perhaps the person wasn’t a thief at all, only some other cadet spying upon you.”
“We thought of that.”
“You may as well give me the names. I shall find them out anyway.”
Hardly knowing whether or not he was doing right, Sam mentioned all of the cadets who had taken part in the feast. This list Captain Putnam compared with another containing the names of
those who had been robbed.
“Thirty-two pupils,” he mused. “I’ll have the whole, school in this before I finish.”
He looked at Sam curiously. The youth wondered what was coming next, when there was a sudden knock on the door. “Come in,” said Captain Putnam, and one of the little boys entered with a letter in his hand.
“Mr. Strong sent me with this,” said the young cadet. “He just found it on the desk in the main recitation room.”
“All right, Powers; thank you,” answered the captain, and took the letter. “You can go,” and Powers retired again.
The letter was encased in a dirty, envelope on which was printed in a big hand, in lead pencil:
CAPT. VICTOR PUTNAM.
Very Important. Deliver at Once.
Taking up a steel blade, the master of the Hall cut open the envelope and took out the slip of paper it contained. As he read the communication he started. Then he crushed the paper in his hand and looked sharply at Sam.
“Samuel, was the party you saw in the hall-way tall and slim?”
“Rather tall, yes, sir.”
“And slim?”
“Well, he wasn’t fat.”
“Did you see his face?”
“No; it was too dark for that, and, besides, he had that shawl, or whatever it was, pretty well up around him.”
“Did you notice how he walked?”
“He moved on tiptoes.”
“And you cannot imagine who it was?”
“No, sir.”
“By the way, you of course know Alexander Pop, our colored waiter.”
“Why, to be sure! Everybody knows Aleck, and we have had lots of fun with him, at one time or another. But you surely don’t suspect him, do you?”
“This letter says Pop is guilty.”
“That letter? And who wrote it?”
“I do not know. It contains but two lines, and you can read it for yourself,” and the captain handed over the communication, which ran as follows:
“Alexander Pop stole that money and the other things. ONE WHO KNOWS ALL.”
“That’s a mighty queer letter for anybody to write,” murmured Sam, as he handed it back. “Why didn’t the writer come to you, as I have done?”
“Perhaps he wanted to keep out of trouble.”
“I don’t believe the letter tells the truth, sir.”
“And why not?”
“Because Aleck is too good-hearted a fellow to turn thief.”
“Hum! That hardly covers the ground, Samuel.”
“Well, why don’t you have him searched?”
“I will.”
Without further ado Sam was dismissed, and Captain Putnam called George Strong to him and showed the strange letter.
“Why not look among Pop’s effects?” suggested the assistant. “He may have hidden the money and jewelry in his trunk.”
“We will go up to his apartment,” replied Captain Putnam, and a few minutes later the pair ascended to the attic room which the colored waiter had used for several terms. They found Pop just fixing up for a trip to Cedarville.
He nodded pleasantly, and then looked at both questioningly.
“Pop, I am afraid I have a very unpleasant duty to perform,” began Captain Putnam.
“Wot’s dat, sah?” asked Aleck in surprise.
“You have heard of the robberies that have been committed?”
“’Deed I has, sah. But—but yo’ don’t go fo’ to distrust me, do yo’, cap’n?” went on the colored man anxiously.
“I would like to search your trunk and your clothing, Pop. If you are innocent you will not object.”
“But, sah, I didn’t steal nuffin, sah.”
“Then you shouldn’t object.”
“It aint right nohow to ‘spect an honest colored pusson, sah,” said Aleck, growing angry.
“Do you object to the search?”
“I do, sah. I am not guilty, sah, an’ dis am not treatin’ me jest right, sah, ‘deed it aint, sah.”
“If you object, Pop, I will be under the painful necessity of having Snuggers place you under arrest. You know he is a special officer for the Hall.”
At this announcement Aleck fell back completely dumfounded. “Well, dat’s de wust yet!” he muttered, and sank back on a chair, not knowing what to do next.
CHAPTER VIII
IN WHICH ALEXANDER POP RUNS AWAY
“Will you submit to having your trunk examined or not?” demanded Captain Putnam, after a painful pause, during which Alexander Pop’s eyes rolled wildly from one teacher to the other.
“Yo’ kin examine it if yo’ desire,” said Aleck. “But it’s an outrage, Cap’n Putnam, an’ outrage, sah!”
Without more ado Captain Putnam approached the waiter’s trunk, to find it locked.
“Where is the key, Pop?”
“Dare, sah, on de nail alongside ob yo’ sah.”
Soon the trunk was unlocked and the lid thrown back. The box contained a miscellaneous collection of wearing apparel, which the captain pushed to one side. Then he brought out a cigar box containing some cheap jewelry and other odds and ends, as well as two five dollar bills.
“Dat money am mine, sah,” said Aleck. “Yo paid me dat las’ Saturday, sall.”
“That is true, but how did this get here, Pop?”
As Captain Putnam paused he held up a stud set with a ruby-the very stud the cadet Weeks had lost!
“Dat—dat stud—I never seen dat shirt-stud before, cap’n, ‘deed I didn’t,” stammered the waiter.
“That is certainly Weeks’ stud; I remember it well,” put in George Strong. “He showed it to me one day, stating it was a gift from his aunt.”
“And here is a cheap watch,” added Captain Putnam, bringing forth the article. “Pop, is this your watch?”
“No, sah—I—I never seen dat watch before,” answered Aleck nervously. “I dun reckon sumbuddy put up a job on dis poah coon, sah,” he continued ruefully.
“I believe the job was put up by yourself,” answered Captain Putnam sternly. “If you are guilty you had better confess.”
A stormy war of words followed. Alexander Pop stoutly declared himself innocent, but in the face of the proofs discovered the master of the Hall would not listen to him.
“Peleg Snuggers shall take you in charge and drive down to the Cedarville lock-up,” said the captain.
The news that some of the things had been found in Pop’s trunk spread with great rapidity. Many were astonished to learn that he was thought guilty, but a few declared that “a coon wasn’t to be trusted anyway.”
“Niggers are all thieves,” said Jim Caven, “never yet saw an honest one.”
“I don’t believe you!” burst out Tom. “Pop’s a first-rate fellow, and the captain has got to have more proof against him before I’ll believe him guilty.”
“Oh, he’s a bad egg!” growled the Irish boy.
“You only say that because he called you down last week,” put in Frank. He referred to a tilt between the new pupil and the colored man. Jim Caven had tried to be “smart” and had gotten the worst of the encounter.
“Yes, I think he’s as honest as you are!” burst out Tom, before he had stopped to think twice.
“What! do you call me a thief!” roared Jim Caven, and leaped upon Tom, with his face as white as the wall. “I’ll make you smart for that!”
One blow landed on Tom’s cheek and another was about to follow, when Tom dodged and came up under Caven’s left arm. Then the two boys faced each other angrily.
“A fight! Fight!” cried a number of the cadets, and in a twinkle a ring was formed around the two contestants.
“I’m going to give you the worst thrashing you ever had,” said Caven, but in rather a nervous tone.
“All
right, Caven, go ahead and do it,” cried Tom. “I will stand up for Aleck Pop, and there you are!”
Tom launched forth and caught Caven on the right cheek. The Irish lad also struck out, but the blow fell short. Then the two boys clinched.
“Break away there!” cried Frank. “Break away!”
“I’ll break his head!” panted Caven. “How do you like that?” And he held Tom with one hand and hit him in the neck with the other.
The blow was a telling one, and for a brief instant Tom was dazed. But then he caught his second wind and threw Caven backward. Before the Irish lad could recover his balance, Tom struck him in the nose, and over rolled his opponent.
A shout went up. “Good for Tom Rover! That was a telling blow! I Keep it up!”
“I’ll fix you!” gasped Jim Caven, as soon as he could speak. “I’ll fix you!” and staggering to his feet, he glanced around for some weapon. Nothing met his view but a garden spade which Peleg Snuggers had been using, and catching this up he ran for Tom as if to lay him low forever.
“Caven, none of that! Fight fair!”
“He shan’t call me a thief!” growled the Irish boy. “I’ll show him!” And he aimed a tremendous blow for Tom’s head.
Had the spade fallen as intended Tom’s cranium might have been split in twain. But now both Dick and Frank caught the unreasonable youth and held him while Sam and several others took the spade away.
“Stop it—here comes Mr. Strong!” came the unexpected cry from some outsiders.
“Yes, give it up, Tom,” whispered Sam.
“We’re in hot water enough, on account of that feast.”
“I’ll give it up if Caven is willing,” muttered
“I’ll meet you another time,” answered Caven, and walked rapidly away.
“What is the row here?” demanded George Strong, as he strode up.
“Nothing, sir,” said one of the boy. “Some of the fellows were wrestling for possession of that spade.”
“Oh, I was afraid there was a fight,” and Mr. Strong sauntered off.
He was on his way to the barn, and presently the cadets saw him come forth with the man-of-fall-work and the light spring wagon.
“They are going to take poor Aleck to the Cedarville lock-up,” announced Fred. “Poor chap, I never thought this of him!”
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