CHAPTER III
A MODEST HERO
A MODEST HERO
A MODEST HERO
“You’ve got to look out for those fellows, especially for that Lemming, Bobby,” warned Mouser. “Those eyes of his were like a rattlesnake’s when he got up from the ground. You humbled him before his gang and made him look like thirty cents, and he isn’t likely to forget it.”
“Oh, I’m not worrying much about him,” returned Bobby carelessly. “He probably got enough to last him for a while. Then, too, he knows that we have the number of his car and could get the police after him if we wanted to.”
“I don’t know but what we ought to do that anyway,” suggested Shiner. “It’s a tough gang and perhaps it’s already done something that the police are interested in finding out about.”
“I guess we’d better let well enough alone,” replied Bobby. “Besides, I doubt whether the doctor would care to have the school mixed up in the matter. But now let’s get along after those doughnuts of Pee Wee. If we wait till to-morrow he’ll have spent the money, and this scrap has given me an appetite.”
“What are we going to do with these apples?” asked Fred. “There’s quite a bunch of them in this bag.”
“We’ll drop in at the Hall and leave them with the housekeeper,” Bobby decided.
“Don’t you think the doctor himself ought to be told about these fellows so that he can keep a closer watch on the orchard?” asked Skeets.
“I suppose he ought,” agreed Bobby. “But I hate to speak to him about it for fear he’ll think we’re looking for praise for getting rid of the rascals. But come along anyway, and we’ll get these apples off our hands.”
As luck would have it, their modesty was not to be spared, for as they went through the front door of the school the first person they encountered was Dr. Raymond himself, who was emerging from one of the classrooms.
The doctor was a tall spare man with an intellectual, finely cut face and a pair of eyes that could look right through one if he were guilty of any violation of rules but that more frequently had a twinkle in them that bespoke a kindly nature and the possession of a sense of humor. He was a strict disciplinarian and an excellent administrator, and had raised the school to a position of such high repute that he had been forced to establish a waiting list. Although the boys knew that he was not to be trifled with, they liked him because he was uniformly just and fair in his dealings with them.
He glanced at them with an expression of some surprise as he noted the bag of apples that Fred carried in his hand.
“They’re apples from your thousand-dollar tree,” volunteered Fred, forestalling the question that he saw in the doctor’s eyes.
“What!” exclaimed Dr. Raymond with a start, as a look of sternness began to steal over his features.
For that tree was his special pride, and he valued it almost as much as the rest of his orchard put together.
“We weren’t the ones that picked the apples,” broke in Mouser. “We found a gang of thieves down there helping themselves and we drove them off. Bobby did the most of it, though. He sure can think quickly.”
“Come in here and tell me all about it,” directed the doctor, leading the way into the room from which he had just come.
“Now, Blake,” he said after they were seated, “from what Pryde said, I fancy you are the one to tell me the story.”
Bobby fidgeted a little uncomfortably. It was hard to tell the facts without dwelling on the part he had played in it, and he hated to find himself in the limelight.
“Why, Doctor Raymond,” he said, “there isn’t much to tell. We were walking down the lane when we saw an auto drawn up at the side of the road and then we saw five fellows gathering apples from that tree. We knew how much you thought of it, so we went into the orchard and made them go away.”
“Were they boys about your own size?” asked the doctor. “Anybody you know about here or in the town?”
“No, sir,” replied Bobby. “They were big fellows, almost men. None of us ever saw them before. They had a big car and they probably came from a distance.”
“How did you get them to stop?” asked the doctor, with some interest. “Persuade them?”
“Well, no, sir,” answered Bobby slowly. “You couldn’t exactly say that we persuaded them. We—we had to use a little force.”
The doctor’s keen eyes twinkled.
“This grows interesting,” he remarked. “I am really curious to know what kind of force you boys used to drive away nearly half a dozen robbers who were almost the size of men.”
“If you please, doctor,” ventured Fred, who had been growing restive at what he regarded as the undue modesty of his chum, “any of the other boys can tell you about it better than Bobby, because he’s the one that about did the whole thing and he doesn’t like to say so.”
Bobby blushed and the doctor laughed.
“I suspected as much,” he said. “Well, then, Martin, suppose you go ahead and tell me all the facts.”
“Well, sir,” replied Fred, “we saw the fellows robbing the tree and we climbed over the fence and went over to them and Bobby told them to stop. The man who seemed to be the leader made a rush, and Bobby dived for his legs and tumbled him to the ground. Then Bobby told Pee Wee—I mean Wise—to sit on him and hold him down and Pee Wee—I mean Wise—did it. Then the man who had been driving the auto came for Bobby with a rock in his hand, and Bobby took the baseball we’d been practicing with out of his pocket and let him have it right in the bread basket—I mean in the stomach—and the man went down. Then Bobby got back the ball and told the other four to beat it—I mean told them to go away—or he’d soak—I mean hit—them in the same way. They saw that their goose was cooked—I mean they saw it was no use—and they flew the coop—I mean they went away. But they shook their fists and told Bobby a whole lot of things they were going to do to him if they ever got hold of him.”
The doctor sat back in his chair and laughed heartily.
“Well, well,” he remarked, while Bobby got red to his ears, “that’s the best story I’ve heard for many a long day. And it seems to have Bobby scattered all through it.”
“I guess those toughs heard some of the other fellows coming to our help, doctor,” interposed Bobby. “They did come, you know, but they got there too late—the fruit thieves had gone away by that time.”
“But really, Blake, even at that, you did wonderfully well, both in quick thinking and effective acting,” replied Dr. Raymond. “You are an honor to the school and I’m proud of you. And I want to thank all you boys, for I know that you were standing loyally by, ready to back Blake up if the necessity arose. But I’m glad that the matter was settled the way it was, for otherwise some of you might have been injured in a row with those who were so much bigger and older than yourselves. For the future I will keep a closer watch upon the orchard, though I don’t imagine,” he added with a smile, “that that particular gang will be eager to try again at the same place where they met with such a reception.”
“Bobby took the number of their car so that you could follow the matter up if you wanted to,” said Fred.
“Still, Bobby,” smiled the doctor, “trust him not to overlook anything. But I hardly think that I care to press the matter any further. I guess the rascals have been punished enough. Still, I’ll note down the number just as a matter of precaution in case they should try to carry out their threats of getting even. That’s hardly likely, but it’s possible. By the way, Blake, I’d be especially careful for a while, and if you see any of the gang hanging around be sure and let me know.”
He jotted down the license number and then, with repeated thanks, dismissed the boys, while he himself sought out Mr. Leith and Mr. Carrier, to whom with many chuckles he narrated the events of the afternoon. Even the stately Mr. Leith unbent, while Mr. Carrier was frankly delighted.
Martin was at that very moment chiding Bobby for having hung back and left it to his friends to tell of his exploits.
“Why didn’t you speak up for yourself, Bobby?” he asked, “instead of leaving it to me to give the doctor an earful—there I go again—instead of leaving it to me to tell the doctor all about it. Any one would think that you were ashamed instead of being proud of what you’ve done.”
“Oh, it wasn’t so much,” deprecated Bobby. “Just a tackle and a baseball throw. Any one could have done it.”
“Great Scott!” snorted Shiner, as he glanced at his watch. “It’s too late now for us to get down to the baker’s for those doughnuts and get back in time for supper.”
There was a chorus of groans from all but Pee Wee, who looked somewhat relieved.
“We’ll have to put it off till some other time,” he remarked. “That stone bruise of mine is hurting me anyway, and then, too, I’ve been working pretty hard this afternoon. Holding that bully down was no cinch.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Skeets unbelievingly. “All you had to do was to sit still, and that’s the easiest thing you do. He couldn’t move any more than if he’d had one of the Pyramids resting on him.”
Pee Wee treated this slighting reference to his really great achievements with the silent scorn it deserved.
“Oh, well,” observed Sparrow, “the doughnuts will keep till some other time.”
“But when that time comes will Pee Wee have the dime?” questioned Shiner incredulously.
“I will,” pledged Pee Wee. And then rising to unusual heights he added: “I promised you fellows two doughnuts to divide among you. I’ll double that. I’ll make it four.”