“It is very strange. Rover says you did.”
“He is mistaken.”
“I am not mistaken. That is why I shoved him away, Mr. Strong.”
“Is your foot hurt?”
“I don’t think it is. But it didn’t do it any good to have it stepped on.”
“Probably not. Do you still wish to jump?”
“Yes, sir. If I don’t, some of the crowd will say I am afraid,” said Dick.
“In the future, Flapp, be more careful,” said George Strong significantly.
“By Jinks! but the Flapp crowd are dandies!” whispered Tom. “First Jackson tried to change the hammers and now Flapp himself tries to disable you. We must be on our guard after this.”
“That’s true,” replied his elder brother, and Sam nodded.
Because of Dick’s hurt foot it was decided that Gus Pender should jump first. Pender did his best, clearing the stick by two inches better than before.
“Put it up an inch higher,” cried Dick, and made the jump, despite a pain in the instep that was by no means pleasant. Then Pender tried again, but failed, and Dick was declared the winner.
“This is the day for the Rovers!” cried one cadet, and a cheer for Tom and Dick followed, while the Staton girls waved their handkerchiefs wildly.
After this came several other contests, in each of which the crowd pitted against the Flapp faction won. This made Lew Flapp, Rockley, Pender, Jackson and a number of others feel very sore.
“We must win something,” cried Pender fiercely. “If we don’t we’ll be the laughing stock of the whole academy.”
At last came the half mile race for which Sam had entered. Now, though Lew Flapp was much larger than most of the others, he was in the same class as Sam, and he had also entered this race, which boasted of ten contestants, including William Philander Tubbs.
“You have got to win this, Lew,” said Rockley. “It ought to be easy for you, with such long legs.”
“I mean to win and leave that Rover boy so far behind he’ll feel sick,” answered Flapp.
Sam had but little to say. But he knew that both Tom and Dick expected him to win, and he resolved to “do or die” as the saying goes.
“Even if I lose they shan’t say I didn’t try,” the youngest Rover told himself.
Out on the field William Philander Tubbs was strutting around boastfully.
“I can’t help but win, don’t you know,” he drawled. “Running is exactly in my line.”
“Oh, what a whopper!” was Fred Garrison’s comment. “Tubbs is about as lazy as they make ‘em.”
Soon all of the contestants were ready, and George Strong explained the conditions of the race.
“You are to run along the shore to the big rock where Lieutenant Merrick is stationed,” he said. “You are to round the rock by running to the right, and you must keep to the right of the path on returning, so that you won’t run into anybody. The first to reach this mark on the return wins the race. Do you understand?”
The runners said that they did.
“Very well then. Get ready. Go!”
Away piled the boys in a line that did not break for several yards. Then Sam Rover shot ahead, followed by Flapp and two cadets named Pigley and Franell.
“There they go!” was the shout.
“Leg it, Sam!” yelled Tom. “Leg it, old man!”
“Go it, Flapp! Don’t let them win this race!”
“It’s yours if you want it, Franell!”
“Remember how you won the race at Ithaca, Pigley!”
So the cries went on, while the outsiders cheered for nobody in particular.
“Oh, I hope that Rover boy wins,” said Alice Staton to her sister.
“So do I,” answered Helen.
“By Jove, but I think I’ll rest a bit!” panted William Philander Tubbs, after running a couple of hundred yards, and he sat down on the grass, while the crowd laughed at him.
Sam was keeping the lead in good shape, although hard pressed by Flapp, Pigley, and Franell. His wind was good and he was running with a grace which brought forth much favorable comment.
“Whether he wins or not, he is the most graceful runner in the school,” whispered George Strong to Captain Putnam. “I never saw his equal.”
“You are right, Strong,” answered the captain. “I’ll tell you what,” he added. “They are a great trio, those Rover boys. One cannot help but love them, in spite of their tricks and occasional wrong-doings.”
“I agree, Captain Putnam. And I must say I do not find their wrong-doings so very great either,” concluded George Strong.
The rock that was the turning point in the race was now almost gained. Sam still led, but Flapp was right at one shoulder, with Pigley at the other. Franell, at a look from Flapp, had dropped behind.
On the rock stood the lieutenant George Strong had mentioned. He was friendly to Lew Flapp and as Sam swept around the rock, he leaned forward, making the youngest Rover run about a yard further than was necessary. Then he allowed Flapp to cut the rock closely.
But Sam was on his mettle and now bounded ahead faster than ever, leaving Flapp and Pigley several yards in the rear.
“Confound him,” thought Lew Flapp. “He’ll win sure, unless Franell does as he agreed—good!”
Flapp almost shouted the word, as he saw Sam run into Franell with a crash and go down. The other boy had crossed the running path and gotten directly into Sam’s way.
“I see you are out of it!” cried Flapp gleefully, as he shot by the prostrate figure.
“It was a trick!” muttered Sam to himself, and tried to rise to his feet. But the wind was knocked completely out of him and before he could recover the race was over, and Lew Flapp had come in ahead.
CHAPTER XXVI
SAM SHOWS WHAT HE CAN DO
“It was another trick. He knocked me down on purpose.”
Thus spoke Sam, as soon as he could get a hearing.
“Well, if that isn’t beastly!” cried Franell, in apparent surprise. “I knocked him over! Why the little clown plumped right into me!
“Were you running on your side of the path?” questioned George Strong.
“I was, sir. Flapp and Pigley can prove it.”
“That’s right, Mr. Strong,” said Lew Flapp.
“It was entirely Rover’s fault,” added Pigley. “He didn’t keep to the right as he should.”
The other runners were questioned, but could give no testimony, as they had not been close enough at the time of the collision.
“It is too bad it happened,” said Captain Putnam.
“I would have won if it hadn’t been for the fall,” said Sam bitterly. “I was in the lead.”
“Yes, but you were about winded,” said Flapp. “I saw you getting groggy. That’s what made you fall into Franell, I guess.”
This remark made the youngest Rover more angry than ever.
“Mr. Strong,” he said, turning to the head teacher suddenly, “will you do me a favor?”
“What do you wish, Rover?”
“Will you time me if I run that race over again?”
“You mean to run it over alone?”
“Yes, sir—unless Flapp will run against me.”
“I’ve won the race and that’s all there is to it,” grumbled the tall boy doggedly.
“Certainly I’ll time you, if you wish it,” said Mr. Strong, who saw how disappointed Sam was. “But it won’t be a race, you know.”
“I don’t care—I want to show them what I can do.”
“Very well.”
Sam drew up to the mark and declared himself ready.
“Shall I run with you?” asked Tom. “Just to urge you on, you know?”
“All right, Tom, come on.”
“Go!” cried George Strong, w
atch in hand and his eye on the second hand.
Away went the brothers side by side, while a cheer went up from those who had wished to see Sam win.
Tom kept close to his brother until the rounding rock was gained and here Sam compelled him to drop behind.
“Go on!” yelled Tom good-naturedly. “Go! I’m after you!” and he put on an extra spurt. Sam also spurted and kept the lead by about two yards.
“Humph! that ain’t running!” muttered Lew Flapp to Rockley, but nevertheless, he was greatly disturbed.
Down the line swept the two runners with the speed of the wind, Sam keeping his two yards’ lead in spite of Tom’s efforts to overtake him.
“Won!” was the shout. “And Tom Rover is close behind.” And then the crowd gathered around George Strong to learn the time.
“Eight seconds better than Lew Flapp!” was the cry. “And Tom Rover came in four seconds better!”
“That shows what Sam Rover would have done had Franell kept out of his way.”
“The race should have gone to Sam Rover!”
So the cries kept up until Captain Putnam compelled the cadets to quiet down.
Lew Flapp and his cronies were much disgusted and left the field almost immediately.
“He’s afraid to stay,” declared Dick. “He doesn’t want Sam to challenge him,” and this was the truth.
The foot races were followed by some prize shooting, a race on the lake, and then by a tub race, and a race in sacks, which called forth much laughter, not only from the cadets, but also from the visitors.
“It was just splendid!” declared Alice Staton to Dick, when it was all over. “I never had such a lovely time in my life.”
“Nor I,” added her twin sister. “But your brother should have had that running race. It was a shame to knock him down.”
“Never mind,” said Tom, who had come up. “All the boys know he can run faster than the winner anyway.”
A luncheon was served to the visitors by Captain Putnam’s order and after that the cadets and their newly-made friends were allowed to go walking, boating, or driving, as they saw fit. Swings had been erected in the grove close to the encampment and these were constantly patronized.
“It must be lots of fun to be a cadet,” said Alice Staton, when ready to depart. “If I was a boy I should want to go to a military academy.”
“Oh, it’s not all play,” said Tom. “We have to work pretty hard over our studies and sometimes a fellow doesn’t feel like drilling, but has to do it all the same.”
It can truly be said that the Flapp crowd were much disappointed over the results of the day’s contests. Only two events had been won—a boat race of small importance and the race in which Lew Flapp had come off victor, and the latter victory was dimmed by the knowledge that Sam Rover had cut down Flapp’s time over the course by eight seconds.
“We may as well sell out and go home,” said Pender, in deep disgust.
“But we can’t go home,” returned Rockley. “We’ve got to stay right here and take all the taunts that come along.”
“Nobody shall taunt me,” cried Jackson. “If they try it I’ll punch somebody’s nose.”
“And to think we lost our money, too,” said Ben Hurdy, after a pause. “That’s what makes me sick.”
“Reckon you didn’t lose much,” said Lew Flapp, with a sickly grin.
“I lost all I had, and that’s enough.”
“Who won it?”
“Hans Mueller. That crazy Dutch boy was yelling for Tom Rover and I took him up.”
The Flapp crowd did not feel like mingling with the visitors, and at the first opportunity Lew Flapp and his intimate cronies slipped away from the camp and hurried to the hermit’s den they had discovered.
“We’ll have a little jollification of our own,” said Rockley, and his plan was speedily carried into effect, in a fashion which would not have been approved by Captain Putnam or any of the teachers under him.
“We must get after Dick Rover,” said Flapp, while smoking a black-looking cigar. “As a captain he stands pretty high. If we can pull him down we’ll be striking a blow at the whole Rover family and also at their intimate friends.”
“Right you are. But the question is, How are we to get hold of him, and what are we to do?” put in Jackson.
“I’ve got a plan, but I don’t know exactly how it will work.”
“Let us have it, Lew,” came from Gus Pender.
“Some dark night we’ll go to Rover’s tent and haul him from his cot. We’ll wear masks and he’ll think he’s in for a bit of hazing and won’t squeal very loud. Then we can blindfold him and bring him here.”
“So far, so good,” put in Rockley. “And after that?”
“You know how he hates liquor?”
“Does he, or is it all put on?” questioned Ben Hurdy.
“I can’t say as to that, but anyway he pretends to hate it, so it amounts to the same thing. Well, after we have him here we can get him to drink something by hook or by crook, and when he falls asleep we can put an empty bottle in his hand and then somebody can bring Captain Putnam to the spot. That will wipe out Dick Rover’s record as a model pupil all in a minute.”
“Good!” almost shouted Rockley. “We can dose him easily. You just leave that for me.”
“Wish we could get his brothers into it, too,” came from Pender.
“Oh, we can serve them out some other way,” answered Lew Flapp. “At the start, we don’t want to bite off more than we can chew,” he added slangily.
The matter was discussed for fully an hour, and when the meeting broke up each member understood fully what was to be accomplished.
Two days after the athletic contests the cadets had a prize drill. The cadets had been preparing for this for some time and each company did its best to win.
“I am greatly pleased with the showing made by all three companies,” said Captain Putnam after the drilling and marching were at an end. “Companies B and C have done very well indeed. But for general excellence the average of Company A is a little above the others, so the prize must go to Captain Rover’s command.”
“Hurrah for Dick Rover!” was the cry, and this was followed by a cheer for First Lieutenant Powell and for Second Lieutenant Tom Rover.
“Humph! Forever cheering those Rovers!” muttered Flapp, who was in Company C. “My, but it makes me sick!”
“Never mind,” whispered Rockley. “Just wait till we get the chance to work our little game.”
At once Lew Flapp’s face took on a cunning look.
“I’ve got an idea,” he whispered in return. “Why not try it on to-night? Then Captain Putnam would say Rover had been celebrating because his company won the prize.”
“You are right there, Lew, I didn’t think of that. Wait till I sound the other fellows.”
It did not take Rockley long to talk to his cronies, and presently he came back with a knowing look on his face.
“It’s settled,” he said. “By to-morrow morning Dick Rover will be in disgrace and will lose his position as captain of Company A.”
CHAPTER XXVII
A PRISONER OF THE ENEMY
Never dreaming of the plot hatched out against him, Dick retired as usual that night. Now that the worry over the competitive drill was a thing of the past he realized that he was worn out, and scarcely had his head touched the pillow than he was in the land of Nod.
His awakening was a rude one. He felt himself raised up, a large towel was passed over his face and tied behind his head, and then he was dragged from his cot.
“Don’t dare to make a sound!” whispered a low voice in his ear. “If you do, you’ll be struck senseless.”
“Hullo, I’m about to be hazed,” thought Dick, and it must be admitted that he was far from pleased. “They think they are going to do
something grand to the captain of the company that won the prize. Well, not if I can help it,” and he began to struggle to free himself.
But his tormentors were too many for him and almost before he knew it his hands and his feet were made secure and a sack was drawn over his head. Then he was raised up and carried away he knew not to where.
“One thing is certain, they are taking me a long distance from camp,” was his thought, when he found himself dumped into a rowboat. “Can they be going to the head of the lake?”
The idea of using the boat had been suggested by Jackson, who said it would bewilder Dick, so he would not know where he was being taken. And Jackson was right, the eldest Rover thought he was a long way from camp when he was placed on shore again.
His feet were now unloosed and he was made to march forward until the vicinity of the hermit’s den was reached. Then he was carried into the den and tied fast to a log erected near one of the side walls.
“Take the sack from his head,” came in the voice of Lew Flapp, and this was done and then the towel was also removed.
For the moment Dick could see nothing, for the glare of a large lantern was directly in his face. Then he made out half a dozen or more cadets standing around him, each with a red mask over his face, and a red skull cap with horns.
“Hullo, this must be a new secret society,” he thought. “I’ve been initiated into the Order of Black Skulls, but never into the Order of Red Skulls. Wonder what they will want me to do?” There was a moment of silence and one of the masked cadets stepped to the front.
“Prisoner, are you prepared to meet your doom?” was the question put in a harsh voice.
“Oh, chestnuts!” cried Dick. “I went through that long ago, when I first came to Putnam Hall.”
“Bow to your superiors,” said another voice.
“Where are the superiors?” asked Dick innocently. “I don’t see ‘em.”
“The prisoner is impertinent! Make him bow!”
At once several sprang behind Dick and forced him to move his head up and down.
“Let up, my head isn’t on a hinge!” he cried. “Cut it short, for I’m sleepy.”
“Make him drink the poison and at once!” put in another of the masked cadets.
The speaker tried to disguise his tones, but the voice sounded much like that of Lew Flapp and instantly Dick was on the alert.
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