“Let up there, you big boob!” cried Jack, and without stopping to think twice he leaped towards the other youth and caught him firmly by the arm.
The boy who had attacked the peddler had not expected such interference, and he whirled around greatly surprised, especially when he saw a boy smaller than himself confronting him.
“What—what do you mean by catching hold of me this way?” he stammered.
“Why can’t you leave that poor peddler alone?” retorted Jack.
“What business is this of yours?”
“That chap wasn’t doing any harm here so far as I can see. He’s only trying to earn his living.”
“See here, kid! this is none of your affair, and I want you to keep out of it,” stormed the dudish-looking youth. “We don’t allow those fellows around this building.”
“Then you tell him to move on in a decent kind of way,” returned Jack.
“I’ll do as I please.” The big boy turned again towards the peddler and made a motion as if to push both the man and his stand down, but, instantly, Jack caught hold of him again and pulled him back, shoving him in between two pillars of the building’s entrance.
“You had better go on,” said Jack to the peddler, and, evidently much frightened by what was occurring, the little man took up his stand and disappeared as if by magic in the crowd on the street.
“Say! you’ve got gall to interfere with me!” burst out the big youth, glaring at Jack. “I’ll teach you a lesson;” and with a sudden move he pulled Jack’s bundle from under his arm and threw it out into the street. “Now you go about your business and don’t you interfere with me again.”
To have the bundle belonging to his mother treated in that fashion made the young Rover’s blood boil. He jumped at the big youth, and as the other aimed a blow at him he dodged and then caught his opponent by the ear.
“Ouch! Let go!” screamed the big youth in sudden pain, and then he landed a blow on Jack’s shoulder and received a crack on the chin in return.
How far this encounter might have gone, it is hard to say, but at that moment, while a crowd was beginning to gather, there came a sudden interruption in the appearance of Jack’s Uncle Tom, followed by his Uncle Sam.
“Hello! What does this mean?” demanded Tom Rover, as he stepped between the two boys.
“It means that I’ve got an account to settle with that young snip, Mr. Rover!” cried the big youth savagely and giving Jack a look full of hatred.
“Uncle Tom, that fellow is nothing but a brute,” declared Jack.
“A brute? What do you mean?”
“He just attacked a poor little peddler who was trying to sell a few things from a stand here in the corner. He tried to knock the peddler down and upset his stand. I told him to stop and then he attacked me.”
“Humph! Are you this boy’s uncle, Mr. Rover?” asked the big youth, in surprise.
“I am, Martell.”
“Then I want to tell you that he has no right to interfere with me,” went on Napoleon Martell, uglily. “Those peddlers are always hanging around here and my opinion is they are all thieves.”
“That fellow was no more a thief than you are,” broke in Jack, sturdily.
“Ha! Do you mean to call me a thief?”
“Come, Jack, such talk won’t do down here in Wall Street,” remonstrated his Uncle Sam, who had listened closely to what had been said. Sam Rover, from a distance, had seen the bundle flung into the gutter and had picked it up. Both the wrapping and the string were broken, but the contents of the package seemed to be uninjured.
“If that kid is your nephew, you had better take him in hand,” grumbled Napoleon Martell, and then, not wishing to have any more words with the two older Rovers, he broke through the crowd which had gathered and hurried up the street.
“Come into the building,” ordered Tom Rover to Jack, for the crowd was getting denser every instant; boys and men who had been hurrying by stopped to find out what was the matter.
“I guess I’ll have to go back to get that bundle tied up again,” answered Jack. The encounter had excited him not a little. “Uncle Tom, that fellow seemed to know you?”
“Yes, I know that boy. His name is Napoleon Martell, although they call him Nappy for short. He is the son of Nelson Martell, one of our rivals in business, a man who occupies the floor above us in this building.”
“I didn’t know Nappy was much of a scrapper,” was Sam Rover’s comment. “I thought he was too much of a dude to fight.”
“He certainly is a dude as far as appearances go,” answered Jack; “but he has the manner of a brute. I wish now I’d had the chance to give him a good licking,” he went on heartily.
“You had better go slow when it comes to fighting,” returned his uncle. “A fight seldom settles anything.”
“Didn’t you ever have any fights, Uncle Sam?”
At this direct question Sam Rover’s face became a study while his brother Tom looked at him rather quizzically.
“Yes! I had my share of fights when I was a boy,” admitted the uncle. “But, looking back, I think a good many of them might have been avoided. Of course, I expect a boy to take his own part and not be a coward. But a fight isn’t always the best way to settle a difficulty.”
Once back in the offices, Jack did not hesitate to tell his father about what had happened. In the meantime, an office boy rewrapped the bundle, securing it this time with a stout cord.
“I am sorry to hear about this trouble, Jack,” said his father seriously. “I don’t want you to grow up into a scrapper.”
“But, Dad, I couldn’t stand by and see that fellow abuse a poor little peddler like that,” answered the son. “It wasn’t fair at all! What right had that Nappy Martell to order the man away?”
“No right, that I know of. Jack, except that Mr. Martell owns some stock in the company that owns this building; but that would be a very far-fetched right at the best.”
“I guess those Martells are all tarred from the same stick,” was Tom Rover’s comment. “The father is just as overbearing as the son.”
“Do you know what I’m inclined to think?” remarked Sam Rover, as he walked over and closed the door to the outer office so that the clerks might not hear what was said. “I’m inclined to think that Nelson Martell is a good deal of a crook.”
“And that’s just my idea of the man, too,” added Tom Rover. “What do you think, Dick?”
At this direct question the oldest of the three brothers pursed up his lips in concentrated thought.
“To tell the truth, I don’t know exactly what to think,” he answered slowly. “Some of the things that Nelson Martell is trying to put through are certainly rather shady. Still, they may be within the strict letter of the law, and if that is so it would hardly be fair to call the man a crook.”
When Jack returned home, he, of course, told his cousins of his encounter at the entrance to the office building.
“It’s a pity you didn’t have a chance to give Martell one in the eye or in the nose,” was Randy’s comment. “Such a brute deserves to be hauled down a peg or two.”
“Well, I rather think I gave his ear a pretty good twist,” answered Jack, grinning.
“You ought to have made him pick up that bundle he flung into the gutter,” added Fred.
“I couldn’t do much of anything with the crowd gathering around. My! how the people do flock together when the least thing happens! If we had stayed there another minute or two, we might have had a thousand people around us.”
With so many things to be thought of and done previous to the departure for Colby Hall, the subject of Nappy Martell was soon dismissed. All the boys were wondering what they had better put in their trunks and suitcases.
“Gee! I’ve got enough stuff planned out to fill five trunks,” declared Randy. “I want to tak
e all my clothing, and my fishing outfit, and my football and baseball togs, and my gym suit, and I’d like to take along my dumbbells, and my physical culture exerciser, and maybe a shotgun, and that favorite paddle of mine, and——”
“And about five thousand other things,” finished his twin. “I’m in the same boat. But we’ve simply got to cut down and take only the things that are actually necessary.”
“We won’t need any baseball things during this term,” declared Jack. “The Fall is the time for football—not baseball. And say! we don’t want to forget our skates. There’s a river up there and also a lake; so if the winter gets cold enough there ought to be some dandy skating.”
“Yes. And if the lake is large enough there ought to be a chance for some ice-boating,” added Fred.
At last, with the aid of their parents, the four boys got their trunks and suitcases packed. They were to leave home for Colby Hall on Wednesday morning, and on Tuesday evening their folks gave them a little send-off in the shape of a party given at Dick Rover’s residence. At this gathering many of their boy friends were present, as well as a number of girls along with Mary and Martha. All of the young folks had an exceedingly pleasant time, which was kept up until midnight.
“And now for Colby Hall!” exclaimed Jack, after the party had come to an end.
“That’s it,” returned Fred. “Colby Hall and the best times ever!”
“So say we all of us!” came from the twins.
CHAPTER VI
ON THE TRAIN
“Ready?”
“I‘ve been ready for the last half hour.”
“So have I. Come on, if we’re going to catch that train.”
“Yes, boys, you don’t want to miss the train,” came from Mrs. Dick Rover. She gazed at Jack fondly. “Oh, dear! how I hate to have you go!”
“And how I do hate to see Fred leave!” sighed Mrs. Sam Rover.
“And my twins!” murmured Tom’s wife. “I suppose they’ll be getting into all sorts of mischief at that boarding school.”
“Oh, Ma! we’re going to be regular little lambs there,” declared Andy.
“Just you wait and see what fine records we send home,” added his twin.
“The automobiles are waiting, boys,” broke in Dick Rover. “Come. The train is due to leave in twenty minutes, and you know how crowded traffic is around the Grand Central Terminal.”
There were hasty good-byes, a number of kisses and words of cheer, and then the four boys left their mothers and the girls and ran down to where two automobiles were standing at the curb. The twins and their father leaped into one, and Jack and Fred and their fathers into the other, and in a moment more the two machines were gliding down Riverside Drive on the way to the Grand Central Terminal at Forty-second Street.
It was a perfect autumn day, and all four of the lads were in the best of spirits. To be sure, the fact that they were leaving home to be gone for several months sobered them a trifle; but all were eager to find out what was in store for them rather than to give thought to what had been left behind.
As might have been expected, there was a perfect jam of automobiles and carriages in the vicinity of the Terminal, and as a consequence the lads had barely time to get aboard the train which was to carry them to Haven Point, the town on the outskirts of which Colby Hall was located.
“Take care of yourselves!” cried Dick Rover.
“Learn all you can,” added his brother Sam.
“And go slow on mischief,” warned Tom.
“We’ll remember everything,” came in a chorus from the four boys; and then, as they waved their hands to their parents, the long train pulled out of the big, gloomy station and the trip to the boarding school was begun.
Haven Point was located in the heart of New England, so that the boys had a ride of several hours ahead of them. They had seats in a parlor car, two on one side and two on the other, and they proceeded without delay to make themselves comfortable, the porter aiding them in disposing of their handbaggage.
“Good-bye to old New York!” cried Jack. “Won’t we have a lot of things to talk about when we get back!”
“I’m just crazy to see Colby Hall, to find out what it really looks like,” said Andy.
“That picture we had of it looked pretty good,” was Fred’s comment. “But, of course, you can’t always tell by a picture.”
“Not much!” vouchsafed Randy. “A building may look all right enough in a picture and still be about ready to tumble down.”
The boys had left home in the middle of the forenoon, and expected to have their lunch on the train before reaching Haven Point.
“When lunch time comes I’m going to fill up,” declared Andy. “No telling what sort of grub we’ll get at the Hall.”
“Father said they used to have first-class eats at Putnam Hall,” declared Fred.
“Not always!” cried Jack. “At one time, while Captain Putnam was away, the food got so bad there that the cadets rebelled and left the school.”
“Oh, that was before our fathers went to Putnam Hall,” answered Randy. “I heard about that, too. But while our fathers were there, the food was very good, indeed.”
After about half an hour’s ride the train halted at a station, and among the passengers to get aboard were two youths with suitcases.
“Hello! what do you know about this?” cried Jack, surprised. “If there isn’t Spouter Powell! I wonder what he is doing down here. He doesn’t live in this town.”
“And look at the fellow who is with him!” burst out Fred. “Did you ever see such a fat chap in your life?”
“Oh, say! I’ll bet I know who that fellow is,” declared Randy. “It must be Spouter’s friend, Will Hendry. Spouter told me about him. They call him Fatty.”
“And he fits his name,” declared Randy. “Here they come now. They must have seats in this car.”
Spouter Powell, a tall, thin youth with a mass of wavy, black hair overhanging his forehead, and wearing a small cap well back on his head, strode forward towards them. Behind him came the fat youth, struggling with a suitcase and puffing audibly.
“Hello, you Rover boys!” sang out the son of Songbird Powell, cheerfully. “I thought you might be on this train.”
“Glad to see you, Spouter. How are you?” returned Jack, grasping his hand cordially. “Got a little friend with you, I see.”
“Exactly! My chum, Will Hendry. Fatty, these are the Rover boys. This is Jack, this is Fred, and these two little innocent lambs are the twins, Andy and Randy.”
“Glad to know you,” came from all, and a general handshaking followed.
It was found that the new arrivals had two seats at the other end of the parlor car; but there were other seats vacant near the Rover boys, and an exchange for these was quickly made through the Pullman conductor.
“Say! they don’t make you pay extra fare, do they?” queried Andy, as he looked at Fatty Hendry doing his best to squeeze into one of the chairs.
“Not yet. But I don’t know what I’m coming to,” puffed the stout youth. “Seems to me I’m taking on about a pound a day,” he added, dolefully.
“Maybe you eat too much,” suggested Randy, “Why don’t you cut down on your victuals?”
“Eat too much!” puffed Will Hendry. “I don’t eat half as much as some of you slim fellows. Why, Spouter here eats twice as much as I do!”
“Yes. But see the exercise I take,” answered Dick Powell. “I walk at least five miles to your one. And I spend lots of time in the gym, too—something that you cut out entirely.”
“Well, what would I be doing in the gym?” demanded the fat youth. “If I got up on the rings or the bars, I’d pull the whole blamed business down to the ground,” and at this remark there was a general snicker.
Spouter Powell explained that he had been visiting Will Hendry, w
ho lived in the town where the two had boarded the train. He had been at Colby Hall ever since its opening, and he had much to tell about the school and those who attended it.
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll like it,” declared Spouter, growing eloquent. “It’s so delightfully situated on a hill overlooking the river, and is surrounded by stately trees and a well-kept campus. The scene from the front is exceedingly picturesque, while to the back the woods stretch out for many miles. Soon, when the frost touches the leaves, the hues and colors will be magnificent. The sparkle of the sunlight glinting across the water——”
“Wow! Spouter is off again!” puffed Fatty Hendry. “I told you to be careful,” he pleaded.
“I was only acquainting them with the beauties of Colby Hall,” remonstrated Spouter. “When one comes to contemplate nature, it’s necessary to understand what real harmony——”
“Exactly, exactly! Just so!” burst out Andy. “We understand what you mean, Spouter. But please remember the scenery is there—it won’t move—and we’ll have lots of time to look at it.”
“Tell us about the boys who go there—and the teachers,” broke in Randy.
“Yes. The teachers especially,” added Fred.
“Is there any hard-hearted fellow—like that Josiah Crabtree our folks tell about?”
“We’ve got one fellow there—Professor Asa Lemm—that nobody likes,” answered Spouter. “He’s a language teacher. They say he was once quite well off, and he constantly laments the loss of his wealth.”
“And being poor now, he tries to take it out on every pupil who comes under him,” finished Fatty Hendry. “Oh, Asa is a lemon, believe me!”
“Well, you know what lemons grow for,” commented Andy, mischievously. “They are raised to be squeezed.”
“And maybe we’ll have to squeeze Mr. Asa Lemm—the lemon,” added his twin.
“Then all the other profs are perfectly good fellows?” questioned Jack.
“Oh, yes! Captain Dale, our military instructor, is one of the nicest men I ever met, and so are Professors Grawson and Brice. The others don’t seem to cut much ice one way or the other.”
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