“Dick, when I buy a houseboat I’m going to engage you as captain.”
And then the students in the road clambered into the carryall and tumbled all over the Rovers, hugging them and trying to shake hands at the same time.
“Larry, glad to see you, but please don’t smother me.”
“I’ll love you, George, if only you won’t put your elbow through my ribs.”
“I knew Fred would meet us.”
“You gif me der honor of dis,” came from Hans Mueller. “I tole dem fellers to come along alretty.”
“Good for you, Hansy, old boy!” cried Sam, and gave the German cadet a tight squeeze.
“Songbird, why don’t you turn on the poetry pipe line and let her flow?” queried Larry Colby, who, even though an officer of one of the companies, was as jolly as the rest of the students.
“Yes, give us something by all means,” said Tom. “Something about ‘stilly night,’ ‘fond recollections,’ ‘starved cats,’ and the like.”
“Humph! ‘stilly night’ and ‘starved cats’!” snorted Songbird Powell. “You must think I’m running a hash mill instead of—”
“By no means, Songbird, dear!” piped Tom. “We all know you’re the sole owner of the largest poem factory in New York state. Let her flow by all means.”
“If you don’t recite, we’ll sing,” said Dick.
“No, don’t do that—yet,” pleaded Songbird. “I’ve got a verse or two all ready,” and he began, in slow, measured tones:
“Back to dear old Putnam Hall!
Back to the days of yore!
Back to the good old times we had!
May we have many more!
Back to our lessons and our books,
And to the teachers, too,
Back to the drills and hours off—”
“And to the mutton stew!”
finished Tom. “Don’t forget to put in Mrs. Green’s wonderful mutton stews.”
“No mutton stews in this!” snorted Songbird. “The last line was, ‘When days were bright and blue,’” and then he continued:
“We love to gather here again,
And talk of times to come,
And plot and plan, and plan and plot—
And plan and plot—and plot and plot—
And plan—and plan—and plan—”
“Songbird, you’ve plotted and planned too much,” interrupted Dick, as the would-be poet hesitated. “Let’s sing a song.”
“That’s the talk!” cried Fred Garrison, and started up the song well known to all of them:
“Putnam Hall’s the place for me!
Tra la lee! Tra la lee!
Putnam Hall’s the place for me!
The best old school I know!”
And then, as the carryall swung up to the campus, they set up the school yell, which brought out a score of students to witness the arrival of the Rover boys.
CHAPTER XI
WILLIAM PHILANDER TUBBS
As my old readers know, Putnam Hall was a handsome structure of brick and stone standing in the center of a large plot of ground, bounded on two sides by cedar woods. To the front was the campus and the wagon road and beyond this a slope leading to the lake. To the rear were rich farm lands, cultivated solely for the benefit of the institution. Besides the school, there were a building fitted up as a gymnasium, and also several barns and carriage houses. The Hall was built in the form of the letter E, and was three stories high. It contained numerous classrooms, a private office, a large mess hall, or dining room, and both large and small dormitories.
The master of the school was Captain Victor Putnam, who was a bachelor, and as kind as he was strict. Captain Putnam was a West Point graduate, and had modeled his school somewhat after that famous government institution. When the school was first organized the Rover boys did not go there, but a number of other bright and lively lads did, and what these cadets accomplished has already been related in a line of stories called “The Putnam Hall Series,” starting with “The Putnam Hall Cadets.” These lads had some awful quarrels with the head assistant, Josiah Crabtree, and they were glad when the Rovers appeared and made it so hot for Crabtree that he had to leave. George Strong was now first assistant in place of Crabtree, and the cadets found him a teacher after their own heart.
“Hurrah! here are the Rovers!” was the cry from the campus. “Welcome back!”
“Boys, I am glad to see you again,” came from Captain Putnam, as he appeared at the front door and shook hands. “From what I have heard you have had rather strenuous times during the past vacation.”
“That is true, Captain,” answered Dick. “I am glad to get back here.”
“So am I glad,” came from Tom and Sam, and all shook hands. Then the boys were told to go to the mess hall, where a hot supper awaited them. Here Mrs. Green met them with her round, ruddy and smiling face.
“It’s wonderful stories I’ve heard of you,” said the matron. “I declare, you’ll have to go into a museum!”
“Not until after supper anyhow,” answered Tom, dryly. And then everybody present laughed.
The supper over, the boys went up to their dormitory, and here as many of the cadets as could crowded in, to talk over the doings of the past vacation. Larry Colby had spent the time on the coast of Maine, and George Granbury had been to the Thousand Islands and to Montreal.
“Yes, Crabtree is in Canada,” said George. “I met him in Montreal, and I can tell you, he looked seedy enough.”
“Well, he deserves to be seedy,” was Dick’s comment. He could not forget how the former teacher had endeavored to hypnotize the widow Stanhope into marrying him, so that he could gain possession of the money she was holding in trust for Dora.
Of course all the boys wanted to know about Dan Baxter, for he had been a leading character at the Hall for many years. Some shook their heads at the idea of the former bully reforming.
“It will be the greatest surprise I ever heard of,” was Larry’s comment.
“He’ll do it—mark my words,” said Dick.
“Let us hope so,” said George.
“Well, it would seem that Putnam Hall is not to suffer for the want of a bully,” came from Fred. “We’ve got a new one here who is as bad as Dan Baxter ever was.”
“Who is he?” questioned Dick, with interest.
“A chap named Tad Sobber. He is a big, overbearing fellow with hardly any education, and he wants to rule everybody. I can’t understand how Captain Putnam took him as a pupil.”
“He came well recommended, that’s why,” answered Songbird. “But I guess the captain has found out that the recommendation was false.”
“He shan’t rule me,” said Tom, decidedly.
“We want no bullies here,” put in Dick. “The day for all such is past.”
“So say we all of us!” cried several cadets.
At that moment came a knock on the door, and a tall youth, wearing an unusually high collar and very large cuffs, came in.
“Well, if it isn’t our old chum, William Philander Tubbs!” cried Dick, running forward and grasping the hand of the dude student.
“Hullo, Tubbsey, old man!” said Tom, gaily. “What’s the price of the best cologne now?”
“Very—ah—glad to meet you again,” drawled Tubbs. “But—er—please don’t call me Tubbsey, because it isn’t my name, don’t you know.”
“To be sure, Buttertub—I mean Washtub,” answered Tom. “Had your hair crimped lately?”
“Now, Tom, I never crimp my hair—it hurts the color, don’t you know,” explained William Philander. “I use—”
“Glue with an egg beater,” finished Tom with a wink at his friends. “By the way, Tubblets, do you know what I heard some girls say last week? They said they thought you were a regular fashion plate.”
“Now did they really?” gushed the dude, much pleased. “Who—er—said it?”
“Two girls living not many miles from here.”
“You—ah—don’t happen to know their names?”
“No. But I can tell you all about them.”
“Ah! Then please do, Tom,” said the dude eagerly. To have any young ladies think of him pleased him immensely.
“Well, these are a couple of young ladies who work in a laundry. Maybe they wash your shirts. They are colored, and—”
“Colored!” gasped the dude, and then a shout of laughter went up, in the midst of which William Philander started to leave the room.
“Don’t go away mad, Billy,” cried Tom. “Isn’t it nice even to have two dusky damsels think of you?”
“No, it is not—it is—is horrid!” answered William Philander. “I think you are—er—poking fun at me.”
“Never did such a thing in my life, my dear fellow—it’s against my internal regulations. But how have you been since the week before next month?”
“I had a delightful vacation.”
“Took the girls out to ice-cream sociables and yellow teas every day you wasn’t playing golf or hop-scotch, I suppose.”
“I—er—took the young ladies out some—we had glorious times, don’t you know. One moonlight night on Lake George I shall never forget, don’t you know. We were out in a tiny rowboat and the moon was sparkling over the water, and Geraldine and I—”
“Lucky Geraldine!” sighed Tom. “And thrice lucky Philander Willander—I mean William Philander!”
“Can’t you make up a poem about Geraldine, Songbird?” asked Sam.
“And don’t forget to put in the moonlight,” came from Dick.
“And the silvery waves, and murmuring breeze,” added Fred.
“How much older than you is Geraldine, any how?” quizzed Tom.
“Geraldine is—”
“You haven’t got to tell her age if she is over thirty, Billy,” said Larry. “Her age is sacred after that, you know.”
“And don’t tell us even if she has false teeth,” came from Sam.
“And it doesn’t make any real difference whether her hair is her own or not.”
“It’s hers if it is paid for,” said Tom. “You don’t suppose a girl that Billy would fall in love with would wear tresses that were stolen?”
“And to think she may be fat!” sighed Sam. “I hope she doesn’t weigh over two hundred, Willy.”
“Oh dear me!” cried the dude, in desperation. “I want you to remember—”
“That she is yours and yours only,” finished Tom. “Yes, nobody shall walk in your corn patch, Bill—not over my dead body. But tell us—secretly if you must—does she wear a number eight shoe or a twelve?”
“If you don’t stop your fooling—” gasped the dude.
“He is going to keep his dreadful secrets to himself,” cried Tom, mournfully. “Alack! and too bad! But never mind, we’ll all come to the wedding, Tubblets, and bring lemons if you say so?”
“Who said I was going to get married?”
“Is it to be a church affair or just a little private home gathering?” went on Tom, seriously. “If it’s to be in a church, and you want us all for rushers—I mean ushers, why—”
“We’ll all be on the job,” finished Dick. “Wouldn’t miss the chance for a farm with a blind mule thrown in.”
“Vots der madder mid me peing a flower girl?” asked Hans, grinning broadly.
“No, Hansy, you’ll have to carry Billy’s coat-tails for him,” said Fred. “The latest style from London, don’t you know, is to have them trailing on behind like—”
“Oh, stop! stop!” screamed William Philander, putting his hands to his ears. “You are all perfectly horrid, don’t you know! I’ll not remain another minute!” and he fled from the dormitory, the laughter of the crowd ringing in his ears as he departed.
CHAPTER XII
WHAT HAPPENED ON THE STAIRS
In a few days the Rover boys felt perfectly at home once more—indeed it was as if they had never been away, so Sam said. The majority of the students were old friends, although there was a fair sprinkling of new boys.
It was not until the end of the week that Dick Rover came into contact with Tad Sobber, a stocky youth, with a shock of black hair and eyes which were cold and penetrating. Sobber was with a chum named Nick Pell, and both eyed Dick in a calculating manner which was highly offensive.
“He’s the fellow who does the hero act,” whispered Sobber to Pell, in a manner meant to reach Dick’s ears. “Wants to make a regular grand-stand play all the time.”
Without hesitation Dick wheeled about.
“Was that remark intended for me?” he demanded, sharply.
His suddenness took Tad Sobber off his guard.
“What if it was?” he demanded in return.
“I don’t like it, that’s all.”
“Humph! I don’t care whether you like it or not,” grunted Sobber.
“See here, Tad Sobber, let us have an understanding,” said Dick, calmly. “I understand that you are trying to bully everybody in this school. Now, this cannot be. We have had several bullies here and we have gotten rid of them all. We want no more.”
“Humph! Trying to be the bully yourself, eh?” sneered Sobber.
“No, I am only giving you warning. The other boys have told me about you.”
“Tad has a right to act as he pleases,” put in Nick Pell.
“No, he has not. Captain Putnam expects every student here to be a gentleman.”
“Oh, don’t preach, Rover,” cried Tad Sobber. “I can take care of myself without your advice.”
“Well, I warn you to keep your distance so far as I am concerned and keep a civil tongue in your head,” said Dick.
What this war of words might have led to there is no telling. Just at that moment the school bell rang, and all of the students had to hurry to their respective classes.
It may be mentioned here that Sam, Tom and Dick were now in the same grade. This may be wondered at, but the fact of the matter was that Sam, by hard work the term previous, had caught up to Tom, while Dick, because of being away on some business for his father at various times, had dropped a little behind.
“Had a little run-in with Sobber,” said Dick to his brothers, when he got the chance, and related the particulars.
“He said something about me behind my back,” said Sam. “I don’t know what it was, but I am certain it was nothing complimentary.”
“We must watch him,” said Tom. “If we do not, he may try to play us foul.”
As this was to be their last term at Putnam Hall, all of the Rovers determined to do their best in their studies, so they spent no time in fooling while at their classes. Once or twice Tom found it hard to resist playing a joke, but a look from Dick usually made him turn to his books again.
It was now the season for football, and several school teams had been organized. Tom and Dick were on one team, headed by Larry Colby. There was another team headed by Tad Sobber, and on this Nick Pell was a quarterback. How Sobber had ever gotten the captaincy of this team was a mystery.
“They want to play us next Saturday,” said Larry, one afternoon. “What do you fellows say?” He put the question to his fellow members of the eleven.
“I don’t care much to play Sobber and Pell,” said Tom, promptly.
“Exactly the way I feel about it,” added Dick. “But I’ll play if the rest want to.”
Some demurred, but in the end the match was arranged, and it started on the school grounds at two o’clock the following Saturday afternoon.
“I think it will be useless to try any mass playing,” said Larry. “Sobber and Pell and some of the others are too heavy for us. We’ll have to trust to some swif
t passes and quick runs.”
In the first half of the game Sobber’s eleven got ten points, while Larry’s team got nothing.
“Sobber is too brutal for me,” said Tom. “He deliberately kicked me in the shins.”
“If he does it again, knock him down,” advised Dick, promptly.
Larry’s eleven went into the second half with vigor. They soon got a goal and followed it up by two more. Then Sobber claimed a foul, but it was not granted.
“If anybody is fouling it is you,” said Dick. “You fouled Tom twice. If you do it again—”
“Never mind, Dick,” interrupted Larry. “Go on and play, or give up,” he added to Tad Sobber.
“I want Dick Rover to understand that he—” began Sobber, when another player pulled him back. Some hot words followed, and then the game proceeded. Larry’s eleven made another touchdown and kicked the goal,—and thus won a substantial victory, much to Sobber’s disgust and that of his crony, Nick Pell.
“No use of talking, those Rover boys make me sick,” said Sobber, when he and Nick Pell were alone. “Everybody in this school seems to toady to them.”
“If I had been you I’d have pitched into Dick Rover on the gridiron,” answered Pell.
“Well, I wanted to, but the others wouldn’t have it. But I’ll polish him off some day—and polish off Tom, too,” added Sobber, uglily.
Two of the small boys of the school had been taken sick, and in order to keep them quiet they were removed to the top floor of the institution, and one of the colored waiters was ordered to carry their meals up to them. Dick knew both of the lads, and he frequently went up to pay them a visit and cheer them up a bit.
One day he was just returning from a visit to the sick students when he heard a noise in the hallway on the second floor. He looked down the stairs and saw Tom and Tad Sobber near a landing, having a wordy quarrel. Nick Pell was approaching and so were Fred and Hans.
“For two pins I’d give you a good thrashing, Rover,” the bully was saying. “You can’t lord it over me, understand that.”
“Well, I want you to keep your distance, Tad Sobber,” returned Tom. “And I stick to it that you kicked me on purpose during the football game.”
Both boys were walking to the stairs landing, and Dick and the others who heard the words followed. Then of a sudden the crowd that was gathered saw Sobber catch Tom by the throat.
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 174