“Yes, he was up. So you went to sleep about midnight? And when did you get up?”
“At the first call,” answered Sam.
“And your coats were as you had left them?”
“Mine was,” came from Sam and Dick.
“I don’t remember exactly how I did leave mine,” said Tom. “But I didn’t notice anything unusual.”
“Then, if the real thief visited our camp he must have come in between midnight and six o’clock,” went on the master of the school. “I must question those who were on guard duty about this.”
“That’s the idea!” cried Dick. “If the thief sneaked in somebody must have seen him.”
“Unless a guard was asleep on his post,” came from Tom. “As it was the last night out they may have been pretty lax in that direction.”
Dinner had been ordered, and the three Rovers dined with the captain in his private dining room. Then the boys went up to their dormitory to pack their trunks.
“I must say this is a fine ending for the term,” was Tom’s comment, as he began to get his belongings out of the closet. “And after everything looked so bright, too!”
“It’s a jolly shame!” cried Sam. “If Lew Flapp did this, or Dan Baxter, I’d like to—to wring his neck for it!”
“It will certainly put a cloud on our name,” said Dick. “In spite of what we can say, some folks will be mean enough to think we are guilty.”
“We must catch the thief and make him confess,” went on Tom.
The three boys packed their trunks and other belongings and then went below again and down to the gymnasium and then to the boathouse. But they could not interest themselves in anything and their manner showed it.
“What is the matter that you came back so soon?” questioned Mrs. Green, the matron of the academy, who knew them well.
“Oh, we had business with Captain Putnam,” answered Tom, and that was all he’ would say. He dearly loved to play jokes on the matron, but now he felt too downcast to give such things a thought.
Late in the afternoon the distant rattle of drums was heard, and soon the battalion, dusty and hot, came into view, making a splendid showing as it swung up the broad roadway leading to the Hall.
“Here they come!” cried Sam. But he had not any heart to meet his friends, and kept out of sight until the young cadets came to a halt and were dismissed for the last time by Captain Putnam and Major Colby.
“Well, this is certainly strange,” said Larry Colby, as he came up to Dick. “What was the row in the barn about?”
“I’ll have to tell you some other time, Larry,” was Dick’s answer. “There has been trouble and Captain Putnam wants to get at the bottom of it.”
“Somebody said you had been locked up for robbing a jewelry shop.”
“There has been a robbery and we were suspected. But we were not locked up.”
As soon as he was able to do so, Captain Putnam learned the names of the twelve cadets who had been on picket duty between midnight and six o’clock that morning. These cadets were marched to one of the classrooms and interviewed one at a time in the captain’s private office.
From the first six cadets to go in but little was learned. One cadet, when told that something of a very serious nature had occurred—something which was not a mere school lark and could not be overlooked—confessed that he had allowed two cadets to slip out of camp and come back again with two capfuls of apples taken from a neighboring orchard.
“But I can’t tell their names, Captain Putnam,” the cadet added.
“How long were they gone, Beresford?”
“Not over fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“Did you see the apples?”
“Yes, sir, I—er—ate two of them.”
“And you allowed nobody else to pass?”
“No, sir.”
“Very well; you may go,” and Beresford went, thankful that he had not been reprimanded for neglect of duty. Had the thing occurred in the middle of the term the reprimand would surely have been forthcoming.
The next cadet to come in was Link Smith, who showed by his general manner that he was much worried. Captain Putnam knew Smith thoroughly and also remembered that the feeble-minded cadet was a fellow easily led astray.
“Smith, you were on guard duty from twelve o’clock to two last night,” he began severely.
“Yes, sir,” answered Link Smith, with an inward shiver.
“Did you fall asleep on your post during that time?”
“No, sir—that is, I don’t think I did.”
“What do you mean by saying you don’t think you did?”
“I—that is—I was awfully sleepy and could scarcely keep my eyes open. I—I sat down on a rock for a little while.”
“And slept?
“I—I think not.”
“Was that before or after you allowed an outsider to get into our camp?”
“Oh, Captain Putnam, how did you know I let somebody in? I—that is—I mean, who said I let anybody in?” stammered poor Smith, taken completely off his guard.
“Never mind who told me. What I want to know is, did you sleep after you let him in or before?”
“Why, I—I—really—”
“Tell me the truth, Smith.”
“I guess I took a nap afterwards, sir. But it was only for a minute, sir,” pleaded the cadet.
“I see. Did you see the outsider leave camp after you had let him in?”
“Why, sir—I—I—”
“I want the strict truth, remember, Smith. If you don’t tell the truth you may get yourself in great trouble.”
“Oh, Captain Putnam, I—I didn’t mean to do anything wrong!”
“Did you see the outsider leave again or not?”
“Yes, sir, I saw him leave?”
“How soon after he had come in?”
“About fifteen or twenty minutes,—certainly, not much longer than that.”
“Now, who was the outsider?”
“Why, I—er—I—”
“Answer me, Smith!” And now Captain Putnam’s voice was as keen as the blade of a knife. He stood before the frightened cadet, looking him squarely in the eyes.
“It was Lew Flapp. But, oh, please, don’t let him know I told you! He’ll kill me if he finds it out!” Link Smith was about ready to cry.
“Lew Flapp.” The captain drew a long breath. “How did you come to let him in? You knew he had been dismissed from the school.”
“He begged me to let him in, saying he merely wanted to speak to two of his old friends. I asked him why he didn’t wait until morning, but he said he wanted them to do something for him before they left the school—that he must see them then and there.”
“Did he mention his friends’ names?”
“No, sir.”
“What did he say when he went away?”
“Nothing much, sir, excepting that he had seen them and it was all right.”
“Where did he go to?”
“I don’t know. It was dark and I soon lost sight of him.”
“He came alone?”
“Yes, sir. But, please, Captain Putnam, don’t tell him I told you, or he’ll kill me.”
“Don’t be alarmed, Smith. I’ll protect you. If you see Flapp again tell me at once.”
“I will, sir.”
This ended the examination of Link Smith, and as soon as it was over the remainder of the cadets who had been on guard duty the night before were likewise told they might go.
CHAPTER VII
FUN ON THE CAMPUS
“It was Lew Flapp, just as I supposed,” said Dick, when he heard the news from Captain Putnam. “What a rascal he is getting to be! Almost as bad as Dan Baxter.”
“Oh, he would have to be a good deal worse than he is to be as
bad as Dan,” returned Sam. “But I admit, he is bad enough.”
“I’d give some money to lay my hands on him,” put in Tom. “Oh, but wouldn’t I punch his head good and hand him over to the police afterwards!”
Word was sent to Josiah Cotton and other officers of the law to look for Flapp, but for the time being nothing was seen or heard of that individual.
The Rover boys were to start for home the next day and that night a large number of the cadets held a special jollification on the parade ground in front of the Hall. A bonfire was lit, and the lads danced around and sang to their hearts’ content.
In the midst of the excitement somebody saw Peleg Snuggers, the general-utility man of the school, hurrying across the backyard.
“Hullo, there goes Peleg!” was the shout.
“Let’s give him a rousing farewell, boys,” came from Tom Rover. “Hi, there, Peleg, come here.”
“Can’t, I’m in a hurry,” responded the man-of-all-work, who had had the cadets plague him before.
“Oh, you must come,” was the cry, and in a moment more Peleg Snuggers was surrounded.
“Let us march him around on our shoulders,” went on Tom. “Peleg loves that, I know he does.”
“Don’t, neither!” cried the general-utility man. “Now, Tom Rover, you just let me alone.”
“We’ll carry you around for your rheumatism, Peleg. You’ve got rheumatism, haven’t you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“It’s good for the lumbago, too.”
“Ain’t got no lumba—Oh, crickey! Let me down, boys. I don’t want a ride!”
“Behold, the conquering hero comes!” announced Sam, as six of the boys hoisted poor Snuggers up into the air. “Now, sit up straight, Peleg. Don’t you want a sword?”
“Here’s a broom,” put in Fred Garrison, and handed over an article which was worn to a stump. “Present arms! Forward, march! General Washtub will lead the funeral procession.”
“If you let me tumble I’ll break my neck!” gasped Peleg Snuggers. “Oh, creation! How can I carry that broom and hold on, too! This is awful! Shall I call the captain? Let up, I say!”
“Send for Mrs. Green to give him some soothing syrup, he’s got the fits,” came from a cadet in the crowd.
“I’ll get her,” cried Tom, struck with a new idea.
Off ran the fun-loving youth to the kitchen of the academy, where the matron was superintending the work of several of the hired girls.
“Oh, Mrs. Green, come quick!” he gasped, as he caught the lady by the arm.
“What is it, Tom?”
“It’s poor Peleg! They say he’s got a fit! He wants some soothing syrup, or something!”
“Well, I never!” ejaculated Mrs. Green. “A fit! Poor man! Shall I ring for the doctor?”
“Perhaps you had better ring for two doctors, or else come and see if you can help him.”
“I’ll do what I can,” answered the matron, and ran to get some medicine from a chest. “I know what it is,” she added. “It’s indigestion. He ate four ears of green corn for dinner and four for supper,—and it was very green at that.”
“Then he will surely want Mrs. Green to help him,” murmured Tom.
Off hurried the matron with some medicine and Tom at her heels.
In the meantime the boys had marched poor Peleg close to the fire.
“Now, steady,” cried Sam. “Don’t let him fall into the flames and singe his hair.”
“Let us warm his feet for him,” cried a cadet. “Take off his shoes and stockings!”
“Hi, don’t you do nuthin’ of the kind,” cried Peleg Snuggers, in new alarm. “My feet are warm enough!”
But there was no help for it, and in a twinkling off came his shoes and his socks followed.
“I ain’t a-goin’ to have my feet warmed!” groaned the utility man. “You are worse nor heathens! Lemme go!”
He struggled violently, but the cadets placed him on the grass and sat on him. Then one, who had run down to the ice-house for a piece of ice, came up.
“Here’s a red-hot poker,” he said. “Peleg, don’t you want your initials branded on your feet?”
“No! no! Oh, help! somebody, help!” yelled the utility man.
“Be careful, or he may get a spasm,” whispered Dick, who was looking on without taking part.
“Oh, he’s all right,” returned the cadet with the ice. “Wait till I brand a P on one foot and an S on the other!” And he drew the ice across the sole of one foot as he spoke.
The poor utility man thought it was a red-hot poker and gave a yell which would have done credit to a South Sea savage. He squirmed and fought, and in the midst of the melee Mrs. Green and Tom arrived.
“There he is,” said Tom. “He certainly must have a fit.”
“Poor Peleg!” cried Mrs. Green. “Here, my dear, take this. It will do you good.” And she held out the bottle of medicine she had brought. “Take about a big spoonful.”
“Hurrah, Mrs. Green to the rescue!” shouted Sam. “Come, Peleg, don’t be backward about coming forward.”
“What is this, Mrs. Green?” asked the astonished man-of-all-work, as he suddenly sat up.
“It’s for your cramps, or fits, or whatever you’ve got, Peleg.”
“Cramps, or fits? I ain’t got no cramps or fits! Are you crazy, Mrs. Green?”
“Oh, Peleg, don’t act so! You certainly have cramps, or indigestion. Come, take the medicine!”
“That fer your medicine!” roared the angry man-of-all-work, and flung the bottle into the bonfire.
“Oh, that medicine!” shrieked the matron. “And I made it myself, too!”
“It’s them pesky boys, Mrs. Green! They be a-tormenting the life out of me.”
“The boys?” The matron stopped short in wonder.
“Yes, mum. They’ve stolen my shoes and socks, and they started to brand me with a red-hot poker. I ain’t got no fits, nur cramps, nur nuthin’, I ain’t!”
“Well, I declare!” burst out the thoroughly angry matron. “Tom Rover, come here!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Green, I’ll come day after to-morrow!” murmured Tom, as he kept at a safe distance.
“Well, I guess you are all in this together,” went on Mrs. Green, looking at the crowd of cadets. “It’s your last night and I suppose you will tear the academy down over our ears.”
“Why, Mrs. Green, we never do anything wrong,” said Sam, reproachfully.
“Oh, no, of course not,” was the sarcastic answer. “I’ll be thankful to find myself alive after you are all gone.” And with this reply the matron bounced off into the kitchen, where she slammed the door after her.
“Here are your shoes, Peleg,” said George Granbury, as he handed them over.
“I want my socks first.”
“Here you are,” came from Larry Colby. As Larry’s term as major was now over he was inclined to be as full of fun as anybody.
Peleg took his socks and his shoes and started to put on the former.
“Hullo, what’s this!” he cried, and shook one foot violently. “What’s in that sock! A grasshopper, I declare! Larry Colby, did you do that?”
“Why, Peleg, you know I never play any jokes,” answered the ex-major, innocently.
“Don’t I, though! But never mind.” The general-utility man started to put on the other sock. “If you think—Great snakes, what’s this? Oh, my foot! A hop-toad! Beastly!” And Peleg flung the toad at Larry. The ex-major dodged and the animal struck William Philander Tubbs full in the face.
“Oh, ah—what do you—ah—mean by such actions!” stormed the aristocratic cadet. “I shall report this.”
“Hurrah, Tubby has gone into the frog-raising business,” shouted Tom, merrily.
“I shan’t put nuthin’ on here,” wen
t on Peleg Snuggers, and watching his chance, he ran off at top speed, with his shoes in one hand and his socks in the other.
CHAPTER VIII
GOOD-BYE TO PUTNAM HALL
“Now, Songbird, give us one of your best poetical effusions,” came from Dick Rover, after the excitement had died down a little. “We haven’t heard a word out of you for fourteen minutes and a quarter.”
“Yes, Songbird, turn on the poetry spigot and let her flow,” put in Tom.
“Give us something on old schooldays,” came from another cadet.
“Put in a touch of last farewells,” added another.
“Don’t forget to speak of the moon and fond memories.”
“Or, shall we ever forget?”
“Or, camping on the old camp-ground, Songbird.”
“And of all things, mention the soup we had last Thursday. No piece of poetry would be complete without that soup.”
“Who’s making up poetry about soup?” roared Songbird Powell. But then he grew calmer. “All right, fellows, here goes.” And he started:
“Of all the days to mem’ry dear,
The dearest days are those spent here,
When we—”
“That’s a libel!” interrupted Tom. “Captain Putnam’s rates are no higher than the rates of other first-class academies. I move we cut that verse out, Songbird.”
“I didn’t mean the cost of the days spent here.”
“You can’t spend anything here,” put in George Granbury. “You have to go to Cedarville to do your shopping.”
“I’ll make a fresh start,” came from Powell, and he warbled:
“Old Putnam Hall I do adore,
And love the place as ne’er before,
The campus, boathouse, fishing pier—
The roads that run from far and near—
Each classroom is a hallowed spot,
Though many lessons are forgot!
The dormitories, bright and clean—
No better rooms were ever seen!
The mess-room, where we gathered oft—”
“To eat our eggs both hard and soft!”
finished up Tom, and then went on:
“The prison wherein I was cast,
And thought that day would be my last,
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