It was a man, tall and muscular, and Dave felt sure he had seen him before, but where he could not remember. The man wore a mask, made of a handkerchief with holes cut in it for his eyes.
"Sorry I can't let you go just yet," he said. "But here is something to eat and to drink." And he pointed to a table, upon which rested a lamp, for it was now late in the evening and dark. On the table was a cup of hot tea and several cheese sandwiches and a small baker's pie.
"Well, I'm hungry, that's certain," said Dave, grimly. "And if I've got to stay here I might as well eat."
"That's the sensible way to talk," answered the man.
"When are you going to let me go?"
"I can't say yet—most likely in the morning."
"Why did you bring me here?"
"Just for fun."
"You've taken a lot of trouble for your fun," said Dave. He did not believe the man's statement.
"Eat your supper, Porter," growled the man, and sank down on a chair close to the door. "No funny work now, mind you!" And he brandished the very stick Dave had carried for self-protection.
There was no help for it, and sitting down to the table Dave began to eat and to drink. The sandwiches were fresh, and so was the pie, and as the ride in the keen air had given him an appetite, he disposed of them quickly. The tea tasted rather bitter, but he was dry and speedily drained the cup. The man watched him drink, with evident satisfaction.
"Now you had better lie down and try and get a little rest," said the fellow of the mask. "When I want you I'll call you." And so speaking he left the room, locking the door after him.
As soon as the man was gone Dave tried to loosen the rope that bound his feet together. It was a hard task and took some time, and bending over seemed to make his head swim. When he straightened up his head grew even more dizzy, and almost before he knew it he was staggering around.
"What a queer sensation!" was his thought. "What in the world is the matter with me?" And then like a flash came the answer. "That tea! It must have been drugged!"
The captive was right in his surmise. The tea had been drugged, and soon poor Dave felt so dizzy he had to rest on the bed. He tried several times to rouse up, and then his senses forsook him completely.
Dave had been unconscious for about a quarter of an hour when the man came in, looked at him, and shook him. Then he went below.
"Well, we've got him," he said to the others. "He is practically dead to the world."
"Good!" was the answer. "Better bring him down right away. We want to get this job over."
When Dave regained his senses he found himself in the tonneau of a big automobile that was speeding swiftly over a dark country road. On either side of him sat a person who was masked, and in front were two persons whose faces he could not see. His hands were tied behind him, and his ankles were made fast to the foot-rest in the bottom of the tonneau.
He wondered where he was being taken, but knew it would be useless to ask any questions. How long he had been unconscious he did not know, but felt it must have been a considerable time, for it was now night, and whenever they passed a farmhouse it was without lights, showing the occupants had gone to bed.
Dave fully realized that he was in a position of peril. His enemies had treated him in an outrageous fashion, and what they proposed to do next there was no telling. He felt that he must escape if it could possibly be accomplished.
He had roused up a little, but now deemed it best to let the others think he was still unconscious. Accordingly, he uttered a deep sigh, and then slipped further down on the seat, and let his head fall forward on his breast.
"Pretty well dosed," he heard one of the party murmur, and now he was sure he recognized Nick Jasniff's voice.
"Say, Shime, I hope you didn't give him too much of the drug," said another of the party, and Dave felt certain it was Link Merwell who was speaking. "If he shouldn't recover——"
"Oh, he'll come around all right enough," growled the man called Shime. He was running the automobile, and now Dave was able to place him as a fellow who worked around a livery stable and garage in Rockville. Shime was a drinking man, and his reputation was far from an enviable one.
"How much further have we to go?" asked Jasniff, after a few minutes of silence.
"Not far," answered the driver of the automobile. "We'll take to the side road now. Hold fast, it's pretty rough," and then the touring car turned off the main highway and began bumping over the rocks and ruts of a narrow wood road. The way was uphill, and the driver had to throw in his second speed to gain the top of the rise. Then the car made a sharp turn, and halted in front of a stone building.
"Is this the place?" asked Jasniff.
"Yes," answered Shime. "Wait till I light a lantern, and then you can bring him in."
"I shall have to care for him when we are in the house," said the fourth person of the party who had carried Dave off. It was Doctor Montgomery, and his breath was thick from liquor.
Still thinking he might get a chance to escape if he made out that he was unconscious, Dave hung limp in the automobile, and allowed his captors to lift him out and place him on the ground. Then he was carried into the stone building and placed on a bench.
"You certainly dosed him strongly," said Hooker Montgomery. "I had better make an examination. Loosen up his hands and feet."
A little bit alarmed, Jasniff and Merwell set to work and released Dave from his bonds. In the meantime Shime had lit a lantern, and placed it on a rough table. Doctor Montgomery got out a medicine case, and began to mix up a potion in a glass.
"This ought to bring him around," he said, in a thick, unsteady voice.
Dave did not dare to look around, but by the draught in the room he knew that the door must have been left open, probably to give him more air. He did not think the disreputable physician was in any condition to administer his medicines, and he did not propose to swallow any if he could avoid it.
"I must escape," he thought, and with a moan, as if in great pain, he twisted around, and opened his eyes for an instant.
That instant was long enough for him to locate the doorway, and beyond he made out a stretch of woodland, lit up by the lamps of the automobile. Between him and the doorway stood Merwell and Jasniff, with Shime and the doctor on the other side.
"Shall I hold his head, doctor?" asked Merwell. "Maybe he won't be able to swallow if——"
Merwell got no further, for just then Dave leaped to his feet with an agility that surprised even himself. Stiff though he was, he ran at Merwell, hurling him flat. Then he bumped into Jasniff, who made a weak attempt to stop him. The two swung around, and Jasniff was sent crashing into the table, knocking over the lantern. Then Dave leaped for the doorway.
"Stop him!"
"He must not get away!"
"Ouch! Don't step on me!" came from Link Merwell. He was on his back, and Jasniff's foot had landed on his stomach.
The four rascals had been taken completely by surprise. As the lantern fell it went out, and in his endeavor to get to the doorway, Shime bumped into Jasniff. The doctor ran into the bench, and his glass of medicine went splashing into Merwell's face, eliciting another protest from that bully.
Dave did not care about what happened in the building. His one thought was to get away, for he fully realized that in a hand-to-hand encounter he would be no match for his four enemies.
Had he had time he might have jumped into the automobile, and started up the machine. But he was afraid to risk this, and so ran down the wood road a short distance, and then plunged into the bushes. He did not stop there, but kept on, until he calculated that he was a full quarter of a mile from the stone building.
"I don't think they can follow me to here, at least not in the darkness," he told himself.
He stopped to rest and to consider what he had best do next. The effects of the drug were now entirely gone, and he felt once more like himself.
"I ought to have the whole crowd locked up," he reasoned. "But it would be the testimony of one against four, and they would most likely deny everything."
He went on again, and presently came out on the main highway. As he did this he saw the flash of some lamps in the distance. He crouched down behind some bushes, and a minute later saw the automobile whizz by, with his enemies in it.
"They are going back," he reasoned. "I suppose now I have gotten away from them, Merwell and Jasniff will return to the academy as fast as they can, and Shime and the doctor will return to Rockville; and they'll all play the innocent."
As he walked on, Dave wondered what the plot against him was. He felt convinced that carrying him off was only the beginning of it.
"Well, whatever it was, I nipped it in the bud," he thought. "Perhaps some day I'll find out all about it,—some day when I can corner one or another of that rascally bunch. I take it that Shime and Montgomery are simply in the employ of Jasniff and Merwell. Both of them are hard drinkers and willing to do almost anything to get a few dollars."
Not far down the highway Dave passed a signboard which told him that Rockville was ten miles away.
"I can't walk ten miles," he thought. "I had better see if I can't get accommodations at some farmhouse, and then drive over to the school after breakfast."
With this idea in view he kept on, until he reached a spot where the railroad crossed the highway. As he did this he saw a freight train standing near a siding where a milk car was to be taken on.
"Does this train go to Oakdale?" he asked, of one of the hands.
"Yes, but it isn't a passenger train," was the reply.
"Can't you take me along?" questioned Dave. "I wish to get to Oakdale very much, and without delay."
The train hand looked Dave over by the light of his lantern. He saw that the youth was no tramp.
"All right, get in the caboose," he said. "But it will cost you a smoke."
"I haven't any cigars, but you can buy yourself some," answered Dave, and passed over a quarter of a dollar, which the train hand pocketed with satisfaction.
Soon the train was under way, and in less than half an hour they reached the siding at Oakdale, and there Dave jumped off. By his watch the lad saw that it was three o'clock Sunday morning. Without delay he struck off on foot for the school.
As he hurried on he wondered what he had best do on arriving at Oak Hall. Should he rouse up Doctor Clay and tell the master the whole story, or would it be better to say nothing and await developments?
"If I say anything there will be a great hullabaloo, but it won't prove anything," he reasoned. "Merwell and Jasniff will deny everything, and so will Shime, and that fake doctor might take it into his head to sue me for slander. No, I'll fight my own battles, and see if I can't corner them on my own hook. But I'll tell Phil and Roger."
Arriving at the school grounds, Dave wondered how he was going to get in without being observed. He tried all the doors, to find each locked.
"If I ring the bell I'll have to explain matters," he said to himself. "I'll see if I can't rouse up some of the fellows."
He walked around to the window of No. 11, and threw several handsful of gravel up against the glass. At first there was no response, but presently the window was raised, and Roger's head appeared.
"Is that you, Dave?" asked the senator's son, in a low voice.
"Yes, Roger. Will you slip down and let me in."
"Sure thing. Will the side door do?"
"Yes."
No more was said, and the window was closed. Dave hurried to the door mentioned, and a moment later Roger opened it, and he entered. Then both hurried upstairs, making as little noise as possible.
"What kept you so long?" asked the senator's son, while Dave was undressing.
"I'll tell you and Phil in the morning," was Dave's reply. "I've got a yarn to spin you will hardly believe." And then he went to bed. But it was a long time before he was able to drop asleep, and then his dreams were little short of a nightmare.
It was not until Sunday afternoon that Dave got a chance to tell his two chums the particulars of what had occurred. They listened with keen attention to all he said, and the face of each plainly expressed his amazement.
"That's the worst ever!" was Roger's comment. "What were they going to do with you, Dave?"
"I don't know."
"I believe it was some deep-laid plot," said Phil. "Your getting away spoiled it all."
"For them, yes,—but not for me," answered Dave, with something of a grin. "I don't know what I escaped, but I am mighty glad I got away."
"What about your bicycle?" asked the senator's son. "Aren't you going to try to get that back?"
"Certainly,—and I am going to interview that Doctor Montgomery, too,—if I can catch him. But I want you two to go along," answered Dave.
He was glad to take it easy for the rest of the day. On Monday, after school, the three boys went to Rockville on bicycles, Dave borrowing a wheel belonging to Buster. They rode straight to the Dunn house, to find it locked up tightly. In the yard was Dave's machine, standing against the tree as he had left it.
"I guess the doctor has come and gone," said Dave, after trying all the doors. "Most likely he'll make himself scarce for a while."
"Why not interview that fellow Shime?" suggested Phil.
"I will," answered Dave, and taking the extra wheel along, the three students rode around to the Rockville livery stable and garage. Here Dave asked the proprietor about Shime.
"He has gone," said the man, sourly. "Day before yesterday he took one of my best autos for a joy ride. When he came back this morning I discharged him. He took his things and got out—and I don't know where he went to."
This was as much as the garage owner could tell, and with it Dave had to be content. He and his chums turned away; and a little later set out on the return to Oak Hall.
"I reckon you scared them pretty thoroughly, Dave."
"I am glad of it if I did," answered Dave. "I hope I scared them so much that they never bother me again."
Several days had passed, and in that time Dave had learned many things. From Rockville had come the news that Doctor Montgomery had left rather suddenly, without stating where he was going, and Dave had likewise learned that Shime had not shown himself since his discharge by the garage owner. And now from the military academy came word that Merwell and Jasniff had obtained leave of absence for a week.
"They say Doctor Montgomery must have been getting ready to leave," said Phil, who had been to Rockville. "He owes a board bill at the hotel as well as at his boarding-house. Mrs. Dunn is back, and is very angry to think the doctor got away during her absence."
"I suppose Merwell and Jasniff think the affair will blow over by the time they return," said Roger. "Well, Dave, you can do as you please, but if I were you I'd try to corner them."
"If I did that, Roger, they'd try to squirm out of it somehow. What I'd like to do best of all would be to give Merwell and Jasniff a good thrashing."
"Well, they deserve that, Dave."
"I believe they were going to place you in some kind of an awkward position," came from Phil. "Maybe they were going to commit some crime and try to fasten it on you."
"Well, whatever it was, they got left," declared Dave.
"By the way, did you see the notice Nat Poole posted up in the gym.?" asked Roger, during a pause.
"No. What is it?"
"He has lost a watch-chain charm, and he offers a dollar reward for its return."
"As if the fellows wouldn't return it without a reward, if it was found!" exclaimed Phil. "That just shows Nat's natural meanness of mind!"
"Nat is busy organizing his ice-hockey team," said Roger. "They are going out to practice this afternoon."
"Which puts me in mind that we were going to organize a hockey team also," returned Dave. "I guess the sooner we get at it the better."
The ice on the river was clear and smooth, ideal for hockey playing, and that season ice hockey was taken up in earnest at both Oak Hall and Rockville. Nat Poole had little difficulty in organizing a team, he being the captain and playing rover. The others on his team were made up of those who had played with him on the football eleven and some new students at the Hall.
Dave had studied the play and the players with care, and he finally made up a team as follows:
Goal, Sam Day.Point, Dave Porter,captain.Cover Point, Phil Lawrence.Center, Roger Morr.Rover, Gus Plum.Left Wing, Maurice Hamilton.Right Wing, Ben Basswood.Substitutes: Tom Atwood, Luke Watson, and Henry Babcock.
Goal, Sam Day.Point, Dave Porter,captain.Cover Point, Phil Lawrence.Center, Roger Morr.Rover, Gus Plum.Left Wing, Maurice Hamilton.Right Wing, Ben Basswood.Substitutes: Tom Atwood, Luke Watson, and Henry Babcock.
"You have got to play as if you meant it, if you want to win any games," said Dave to his fellow-players, and so much in earnest did he become that, between ice hockey and his studies, he completely forgot about the adventure which had followed his visit to Doctor Montgomery.
Nat Poole could not help but boast of what his team could do, and when a challenge came to Oak Hall from Rockville to play a game he wanted to accept it without delay. But before he could do so, Mr. Dodsworth interfered.
"We have two hockey teams in this school," said the instructor. "Your seven, and that of which Dave Porter is captain. I think it would be no more than fair that you play a game between you, and that the winner be permitted to accept the Rockville challenge."
This did not suit Nat at all, as he wanted matters entirely his own way. But nearly every boy in the school sided with Mr. Dodsworth, so at last the money-lender's son had to agree to play the game with Dave's team, and it was decided that this game should take place, weather permitting, the following Saturday, and that the game with Rockville should come off one week later.
"To hear Nat Poole talk you would think he had won the game already," said Roger, to the others on Dave's seven. "He makes me sick!"
"Speaking of having it won already, puts me in mind of a story," came from Shadow. "A little girl went in the pantry and stayed quite a while. When she came out she asked her mother: 'Ma, can I have a cruller?' 'Yes, my dear,' answered ma. Then she saw that the little girl wasn't eating anything, so she asked: 'Why don't you take a cruller, Alice?' 'Oh,' says Alice; 'I had that when I first went to the pantry!'"
"Wow!" murmured Sam. "That joke came from the ark!"
"It was told to Pharaoh by Napoleon, when they were hunting for the North Pole," added Plum.
"Well, I don't think it hits Nat Poole's case," was Sam's comment. "He won't get any cruller in this game."
"Right you are!" cried Plum.
Plum was as anxious as anybody to defeat the money-lender's son. Since the former bully had turned over a new leaf Nat was constantly saying mean things about him, and it was only Gus's grim determination to "keep the peace" that kept him from pitching into Nat "rough-shod." In keeping his hands off Nat, Plum had a harder battle to fight than if he had attacked the money-lender's son bodily.
It had to be admitted that, as the day for the contest between the two Oak Hall sevens approached, Poole's team was in good shape. Nat had drilled them with care, and had profited by the work of two of the players who had been on another boarding-school seven the winter previous. One of these players knew several sharp tricks, and it was hoped that these tricks would help to defeat Dave's seven.
The game was to be played under the inter-scholastic rules of that year, with two halves of twenty minutes each, and an intermission of ten minutes. Mr. Dodsworth was the referee, and the accustomed goal umpires and timekeepers were also selected. The "field" had already been marked on the ice, and the goal nets set, so that everything was in readiness for the match. Each player had the regulation ice-hockey stick, and wore regulation hockey skates, well sharpened for the occasion.
"Well, we've got our work cut out for us," said Phil, as he came out for practice.
"Beware of off-side plays," warned Dave. "Don't give Poole's crowd a chance to claim off-play or fouls—and don't let them do anything unfair without a protest."
Just before the play was to start Chip Macklin beckoned to Dave.
"Look out for Bolton," he whispered, as Dave skated up.
"Why do you say that, Chip?"
"I heard him and Nat whispering together. Bolton said their side must win—he had a bet on it with somebody. Then Nat advised him to take chances—which means that they may club you, or kick you with their skates."
"We'll be on the lookout," answered Dave, and he immediately let the others know what Poole and Bolton had in mind to do.
Amid a cheering for both sides, the puck was brought out and placed on the ice, directly in the center of the field, and between the sticks of two of the players. Then the whistle blew, and the contest commenced.
Back and forth over the smooth ice flew the rubber disc, first towards one goal and then towards the other. Dave got it and carried it far down the field, and then turned it over to Plum. Gus lost it to Poole, who knocked it over to a player named Foss. It came dangerously close to Dave's goal, but was sent spinning forward again by Sam, and then followed a turning and twisting back and forth, in the midst of which Nat Poole went flat on his back, and Phil went sprawling over him.
"Foul! foul!" yelled Nat, as he scrambled up. "You did that on purpose!"
"I did not!" answered Phil, with flashing eyes. "I guess you fell on purpose!"
"There was no foul!" decided Mr. Dodsworth. "It was simply an accident all around." And then the play was resumed.
At the end of eight minutes of play Dave's team rushed the puck forward once more. Nat's team tried its best to send the disc back, but lost it by a bad fumble by Bolton. Then straight into the goal net flew the puck.
"Hurrah! One goal for Porter's team!"
"That's the way to do it!"
"Humph! They got that by a fluke!" growled Bolton.
"They got it because of your error!" answered one of the students at the side line.
Again the puck was placed in the center of the field, and once more the struggle was renewed. This time the disc was again forced close to the Porter goal, but without avail. Sam sent it back, and Dave shot it to Phil, who whizzed the puck over to Shadow. Then came a mix-up, and the puck flew close to the Poole goal.
"Back with it!" was the cry. "Don't let 'em score another goal!"
A player named Gardener had the puck. He was about to send it to Bolton, when Phil interfered and sent the disc over to Ben Basswood. As Ben swept over the ice with the disc Bolton rushed forward, swinging his hockey stick viciously.
"Look out!" yelled somebody, and many saw a swing of the stick that came dangerously close to Phil's head.
"Bolton, you try that again, and I'll knock you down!" said Phil, his eyes flashing fire as he spoke.
"My—er—my stick slipped," stammered Bolton, and turned away quickly. Before more could be said a cheer went up.
"Another goal for the Porter team!"
"That's the way to play ice hockey!"
It was true, Ben had made the second goal. With five minutes more of the half to play the puck was placed in position once again.
"Say, we've got to do something!" growled Nat Poole.
"All right, do it," answered one of the team, who had seen Nat make several errors, and who was growing disgusted.
Both Nat and Bolton were ugly, and showed it in every movement. The puck was worked down into the Porter territory, but again without avail, and as it commenced to move in the opposite direction Nat and Bolton grew furious. Nat gave his follower a meaning look, and a minute later Bolton swung his hockey stick around, almost on a line with Dave's shoulder.
Had the blow landed as intended, Dave would have been seriously lamed, and possibly his arm might have been broken. But Roger was close at hand, and in a flash the senator's son thrust out his hockey stick, so that the blow glanced off, doing little harm.
"Time!" called Roger, and it was granted, and both teams at once gathered around Dave and Bolton.
"Bolton, that was done on purpose; you can't deny it!" cried Roger. "You did your best to injure Dave."
"I did not!" roared Bolton, growing red in the face.
"He did! He did!" was the general cry. "Put him out!"
There was a great hubbub, in the midst of which Mr. Dodsworth consulted with Andrew Dale, who was assistant referee. Then Mr. Dodsworth came forward.
"Bolton," he said, clearly and coldly; "you are retired."
"Can't I play any more?" growled the student.
"No. Your conduct is unworthy of a gentleman, and you must leave the field. The game will proceed."
It was a stinging rebuke, and everybody within hearing felt its effect. There was a sudden hush, and then Bolton turned and skated away, muttering savagely under his breath.
Once more the game proceeded, but before the puck could be gotten within striking distance of either goal the whistle blew; and the first half of the game came to an end.
"Wonder what Nat Poole thinks of his team now?" remarked Roger, as the boys gathered in a group to discuss the plays made.
"He is as mad as hops," reported Plum. "He says Bolton was not to blame, and that it wasn't fair for Mr. Dodsworth to rule him off."
"They ought to be satisfied," said Messmer, who was close by. "Langley, the substitute, is as good as Bolton, if not better."
"Say, we must keep them from scoring in the second half!" cried Ben. "That will break Nat's heart. He has been blowing constantly that he was going to do us up."
"Look out for tricks," cautioned Dave. "They may have something up their sleeve they haven't tried yet—although I doubt it."
Promptly on time the second half of the game started. As soon as the puck was put into action it was seen that Nat's team had adopted new tactics. This was to "worry" the disc along close to the side line, and in such a manner that Dave's seven had to either miss it or run the risk of off-side plays.
"Get it out, fellows!" cried Dave, and then gave a signal to bring it back. This was not expected by the Poole players, and before they realized what was occurring, the Porter seven had the puck nearly to the goal net. Here a fierce fight occurred, and the disc went back and forth with astonishing rapidity. But at last Dave got it and made a goal so swiftly and so neatly it brought forth tremendous applause.
"Another for Porter's side!"
"Say, they are piling 'em up, aren't they?"
"Come, Nat! Get in the game and show us what you can do!"
With a glum face Nat Poole ordered his team to their places, and again the try for a goal started. But the seven was now thoroughly demoralized, and another goal was made by the Porters in less than four minutes. Then followed three minutes of ragged work near the middle of the field, and then the whistle blew and it was all over.
"And a regular slaughter for Nat Poole's team," was the comment of one of the students.
"It knocked us out to take Bolton out of the game," grumbled Nat. "That wasn't fair."
"Bolton wasn't any better than the rest," answered Phil. "Nat, you were beaten fairly and squarely, and you know it."
"Oh, shut up!" growled the money-lender's son, and hurried away out of sight as soon as possible.
"Well, young gentlemen," said Mr. Dodsworth to Dave and his followers, "you did very well, and I am proud of you."
"Mr. Dodsworth, do you think we stand any chance of beating Rockville?" asked Dave, earnestly.
"I do, yes. But it will be no easy work."
"Not as easy as to-day, eh?" put in Ben, with a grin.
"By no means, Basswood. I have seen the Rockville seven play two games, and they are very quick and clever. No, you must not look for any walk-over. If you win it will only be by good, clean-cut work."
"Then I can send an acceptance of their challenge?" questioned Dave.
"Yes, and you had better do it at once," answered the instructor; and the letter was sent by special messenger within the hour.
That evening the boys celebrated their victory by lighting a number of bonfires along the river. They were allowed to be out an hour later than usual, and skated and had a good time generally. Nat Poole and his cronies were not in evidence, but nobody missed them.
"I hope we don't get snow," remarked Dave, on retiring. "A heavy fall would knock out the game with Rockville."
"Oh, they could clear the ice," answered Phil. "But I'd like to see it stay clear."
But this was not to be. All day Sunday the sky was overcast, and by Monday morning it was snowing furiously, blotting out the landscape on all sides.
"Here is where we stay indoors and do some studying," remarked Roger, making a wry face.
"Good chance to catch up," was Ben's comment. "I've got to bone at some Latin anyway."
"And I have a theme to finish," added Dave. "Let us do all the studying we can," he went on. "Then, if it clears off, we'll have so much more time outdoors."
This proposal was accepted by the lads of Nos. 11 and 12, and soon nearly all of them were at work over their lessons. The exception was Luke Watson, who said he was ahead in his studies for once.
"I am going to put my clothing in order," said Luke. "My closet and my bureau drawers are something fierce. I hardly know where to find a necktie or a shoe any more."
"You ought to follow Polly's example," suggested Dave. "He has everything as neat as a pin."
"It's easy enough," said the girlish student. "All you've got to do is to put everything in its proper place at the start, and then put it back after you have used it."
"Say, that puts me in mind of a story," began Shadow. "Once two boys——"
"Drop it!"
"We are studying, not listening to stories!"
"Throw a book at him if he opens his mouth again!"
"All right, if you don't want to hear it," murmured Shadow, and turned to his own lessons.
Luke arranged his bureau drawers to his satisfaction, and then went to his clothing closet. Out came several suits of clothing, some shoes and slippers, and a quantity of other things.
"I don't see why I am keeping these old slippers," he murmured, half to himself. "I haven't worn 'em this term. Guess I'll turn 'em over to Pop Swingly. He might get a little good out of 'em."
"Did you speak to me, Luke?" asked Dave, looking up from his books.
"No. I was musing over these old slippers. I am going to give 'em away."
"Maybe some poor person would be glad to get them."
"I don't know any poor person around here. I'll turn 'em over to Pop Swingly. He can——Hello, what's this?"
Luke had turned the slippers over in his hand, and from the toe of one of them had dropped a small, shining object. Luke picked it up with interest.
"Why, it's a watch charm!" exclaimed Dave, coming forward.
"So it is! How did that get in my slipper?"
"What's that?" cried Shadow, coming over, while some of the other students did the same.
"Luke just found this watch charm stuck in the toe of one of his old slippers," explained Dave.
"That is Nat Poole's charm—the one he lost from his watch-chain!" cried Ben.
"Are you sure, Ben?"
"Pretty sure, yes. I've seen it often enough to know it."
"Yes, it looks like Nat's charm," said Roger.
"And was that charm in your slipper?" questioned Shadow, excitedly.
"Yes, it just dropped out."
"Were those slippers taken at the time all our shoes and boots and slippers disappeared?" continued Shadow.
"Yes. Say, Shadow, you don't think——"
"Yes, I do!" shouted the lad who had the reputation of walking in his sleep. "I think Nat Poole took those shoes, slippers, and boots, and then got scared in some way and returned them. And when he boxed 'em up he caught his watch charm in the slipper, and the charm dropped inside."
"It looks reasonable," was Dave's comment.
"You let me have that charm and I'll find out about this," went on Shadow. "I'll show him he can't do such a thing and then shove it off on me, and make folks believe I took the shoes while I was walking in my sleep!"
"Going after Nat now?" asked Buster.
"Yes."
"Do you want anybody along?" asked Dave. "Better have witnesses to this."
"All right; Dave, you come along,—and you too, Phil. I guess you want to know what became of that missing gym. shoe."
"So I do," answered the shipowner's son.
"Where is Nat?" asked Roger.
"I don't know, but I'll soon find out," answered Shadow, with determination. He had been deeply chagrined over the disappearance of the shoes, boots, and slippers, and had felt it keenly when he was suspected of having walked in his sleep once again and made off with the foot coverings.
The three students left the dormitory, and from another lad learned that Nat was in the library. They sent a small boy after him, stating that he was wanted at once at the "den," a room where the students sometimes congregated, but which just then was deserted.
Wondering what was coming, the money-lender's son soon put in an appearance. He had not been told who wished to see him, and his face fell when he saw Shadow, Dave, and Phil.
"What do you want?" he asked, surlily. "I am busy this afternoon."
"Nat, is this your watch charm, the one you lost?" questioned Shadow, holding out the piece in his hand.
"Sure it is!" cried the money-lender's son. "Where did you find it?"
"Found it just where you lost it—in Luke Watson's slipper."
"Eh?" And Nat looked startled.
"Nat, we have found you out!" cried Shadow, sternly. "You needn't attempt to deny it. You took those shoes, boots, and slippers."
"Who says so?"
"I do."
"I—I did not."
"Yes, you did."
"Don't you know you were seen?" asked Phil, with a wink at his chums.
It was only a chance shot, but it told in a most unexpected way.
"Say, has Tom Hally been talking about me?" roared Nat, in sudden rage. "If he has I'll—I'll——"
"Now, take it easy," advised Dave. "Nat, don't you realize that this is a serious matter?"
"I don't care! I'll fix Hally, see if I don't!"
At that moment the door opened, and the boy who had been rescued from the hole in the snowy hollow came in with several chums.
"Hally, come here!" called Phil.
"Say, did you give me away, after all?" demanded Nat Poole, rushing forward and catching Tom Hally by the arm.
"Let go of me!" returned Hally. "I don't know what you are talking about."
"Yes, you do, you sneak!"
"I'm no sneak!" And Tom Hally's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Hally, tell me, did Nat Poole take our shoes and boots and slippers that night?" demanded Dave.
"He did." Hally grew red in the face. "I wasn't going to mention it, but now you ask me a direct question I'll not tell a falsehood. He took the shoes and hid them in the trunk room. I caught him doing it, but I thought it was only a joke, and so kept silent. Then, after you fellows rescued me from the hole in the snow, I made Nat send the shoes back. At first I was going to tell on him, but, somehow, I didn't want to play the sneak."
"I understand," answered Dave. He turned to Shadow. "This clears you."
"So it does, Shadow, and I am mighty glad of it," put in Phil.
"Yes, it clears me," answered the student who was known as a sleep-walker. "Or at least, I will be cleared—after I am done with Nat Poole," and Shadow looked at the money-lender's son in a manner that was full of grim significance.
"What do you want?" demanded Nat, and his voice trembled a little, for he realized that he was cornered.
"In the first place, I think you'll have to restore Phil's missing gym. shoe," remarked Dave dryly. "How about it, Phil?"
"That's so," answered the shipowner's son.
"I've got the shoe in my closet," growled Nat. "It dropped out when I was packing the box. I'll get it now."
"No, you don't!" cried Shadow. "You can get the shoe any time. We will settle the rest of this affair before you leave."
"I—er—I don't understand?" stammered the money-lender's son. "You've got your shoes back. What more do you want? Can't you stand for a joke?"
"Not that kind of a joke, Nat. You put me in a false light—made everybody think I had walked off with the shoes in my sleep—and you made the whole crowd buy new shoes. We ought to make you pay that bill."
"I won't pay a cent! You—you've got the new shoes."
"Well, you've got to settle with me anyway," went on Shadow, firmly. "You can take your choice of two things. If you won't explain to the whole crowd how the thing happened, and won't apologize to me, why I'm going to give you a sound thrashing, that's all."
"Humph!"
"No 'humph' about it. You can take your choice."
"I won't apologize to you, or to anybody."
"Then you'll get a sound thrashing, Nat Poole."
"I am not afraid of you!"
"You won't apologize?"
"No!"
"Very well, then. Remember, I am going to give you the thrashing of your life the very first chance I get," declared Shadow, and then, without another word he left the "den," and Dave and Phil went with him.
"Are you going to do what you just said, Shadow?" questioned Phil.
"Indeed I am! I'll teach him that he can't put off his dirty tricks on me!" declared the sleep-walker.
"When will you meet him?"
"I don't know. I'll lay for him some day when he goes to town."
"He'll keep out of your way most likely," declared Dave.
"Never mind, I'll catch him some time," declared Shadow, grimly.
A little later the missing shoe was returned to Phil. Nat Poole showed himself only during class hours, and it was plain to see that Shadow's threat had scared him. He and Bolton talked of "squaring up" with Dave, Shadow, and the others, but nothing came of the discussion.
"You are not afraid of Hamilton, are you?" asked Bolton of Nat.
"Of course I ain't!" cried the money-lender's son.
"Then why don't you challenge him to a regular fight?"
"Why, I—er—that is, it wouldn't do," stammered Nat. "Shadow would be just mean enough to let one of the teachers or the doctor hear about it, and I might be expelled. My father has been very strict lately, so I don't dare do anything to worry him. But if he attacks me I'll defend myself, don't you fear!" added Nat, boastfully. It may be added here that Nat and Shadow met the very next afternoon, back of the boathouse, and though the money-lender's son tried to get away, Shadow pounced upon him and knocked him down, and ended up by blackening Nat's left eye, and making his nose bleed. Later on, Nat tried to "square himself" with his friends by stating that Shadow had attacked him while he was feeling sick, but it is doubtful if anybody believed this statement.
By Wednesday the storm cleared away, and the air became clear and bracing. Word was sent in from Rockville that, unless another storm followed, the ice on the river would be cleared off for the game of hockey as scheduled.
"Well, we must get into practice," said Dave, and that very afternoon a portion of the river near the Oak Hall boathouse was scraped clear, and the seven got to work, under the eyes of Mr. Dodsworth and Andrew Dale.
"Rockville will do its best to win," said Roger. "If for no other reason than to wipe out the football defeat."
"And we must do our best to down 'em!" cried Dave.
"I am going for a sleigh ride to-morrow," announced Phil. "I've hired a big sleigh from Oakdale, and I want the whole bunch to go."
"Bully for Phil!" cried Ben. "A sleigh ride will suit me first-rate."
"Where will you go?" asked Shadow.
"I thought of going to Hopperville and back. That is about as far as we can go between four o'clock and ten. I'll telephone to the Hopperville Hotel to have supper ready for us."
"Phil, you're a brick!" cried Roger.
"Will the doctor let us go?" asked Ben.
"Yes, I asked him before I hired the sleigh."
The thought of a sleigh ride was a pleasant one, and Phil had little difficulty in making up a party of eight, including Roger, Dave, and Ben.
"It will be moonlight," said Dave. "And that will make the riding extra fine."
It was a merry crowd that climbed into the big sleigh on the following afternoon. The turnout was filled with straw, so that they might keep warm, and was drawn by four good horses.
"Now then, let her go!" cried Phil, and the driver cracked his whip, and they were off, the envy of all the students who had been left behind.
The road to Hopperville lay through Oakdale and Rockville, and as each town was passed the boys set up a cheer and blew the horns that had been brought along. Some folks cheered them in return, and just as they were leaving the town where the military academy was located, some cadets rushed from around a corner and pelted them with snowballs.
"Never mind!" yelled Roger, as he dodged. "You'll get yours next Saturday!"
It was dark by the time Hopperville was reached and all of the boys were glad enough to jump out of the sleigh and go into the hotel to warm up before sitting down to supper. The horses and the turnout were taken around to the stables.
The hotel was located on a corner, and across the side street was another hotel—a resort that did not bear a particularly good reputation. It had a bar attached to it, and it was whispered that sporty men often went to the resort to gamble.
The reading-room of one hotel faced the other, and as Dave, Roger, and Phil entered one apartment they noticed that the one across the way was lit up, and that the window curtains had not been lowered. Then Dave gave a sudden cry of surprise.
"Look at that man over there, Phil!"
"Why, it is Doctor Montgomery!" answered the shipowner's son.
"Montgomery!" cried Roger. "I thought he had cleared out from these parts."
"I am going over to talk to him," said Dave.
"Want us to go along?" came from both of the others.
"You might as well."
"Say, why don't you scare him?" suggested Phil. "If you do that, you may get him to tell all about the plot against you."
"Oh, I'll do that—don't fear," answered Dave.
As supper would not be ready for half an hour, the three lads excused themselves, and hurried across the street. They found Hooker Montgomery still alone, reading a sensational newspaper.
"Well, doctor, how are you?" said Dave, coolly, as he dropped in a chair beside the so-styled physician.
"Why—ah—who—ahem!—where did you come from?" stammered Hooker Montgomery. He was so taken back that he knew not what to say. He had not dreamed that Dave and his chums would visit Hopperville, which was somewhat out of the regular line of travel.
"I guess you didn't think I'd find you," continued Dave.
"Were you—ahem!—looking for me?" asked the doctor, weakly. And now the boys noticed that he looked more dissipated than ever, and that his garments were decidedly shabby.
"See here, Doctor Montgomery, I am not going to beat around the bush with you," said Dave, sternly. "You played me a mean trick, and you know that I can put you in prison for it."
"Why, I—ahem!—I—that is——"
"You kidnapped me, and that is a serious offense."
"No! no! I did nothing of the sort!" cried the man, and his face showed actual misery. "Oh, Porter, don't blame me for it! I made a big mistake! I was a fool to listen to those others! But I needed money—times were very hard—and they said it was only a schoolboy trick—that is, that is what they said first. But afterwards——" The pretended doctor did not finish.
"Who said it was a trick?"
"Those two young men, Merwell and Jasniff. They were angry at you because of something of which I know nothing. They wanted to get you in their power for a lark—that was the story they first told. They promised me twenty dollars if I would aid them—and I never got a cent—not a cent!" added Hooker Montgomery, almost tearfully. "Oh, don't prosecute me! I am down and out! My practice has been ruined—some folks even want me arrested for practicing without a state certificate—and those rascals never came to my aid! And after all I did for them!"
Dave was a good judge of character, and he saw at once that Hooker Montgomery was assuredly in a pitiable condition. Drink had made him lose his practice and his ability to induce people to buy his medicines, and now he had relied upon Merwell and Jasniff to aid him, and they had failed to do so. Evidently the man was not so much of a rascal as he was weak-minded.
"So Merwell and Jasniff promised to pay you if you aided them?" said Dave.
"Yes."
"But you got me to come to your boarding-house."
"So I did, but it was those two fellows who put me up to it."
"Where did Shime come in?"
"Oh, he only furnished the auto for a consideration. He was under Jasniff's thumb—and now he is down and out, too."
"You say it was the plot of Jasniff and Merwell to get me in their power. Why did they want to do this?"
"If I tell you, Mr. Porter, will you—ahem!—will you prosecute me?" asked Hooker Montgomery, tremblingly.
"I may prosecute you if you don't tell me."
"As I said before, I didn't understand their plot at first. They said it was only a schoolboy trick. But it was not,—as I found out later. It was a villainous plan to get you into serious trouble."
"What trouble?"
"I don't know all of the particulars, but I know some. From that old stone building you were to be taken to some town near by. I heard them say something about breaking into a jewelry factory, and you were to be drugged and left in the factory. I think they were going to make it appear as if you had broken into the factory, and that an explosion to blow open a safe had stunned you."
"Can that be true?" burst from Roger.
"What cold-blooded plotting?" was Phil's comment.
"I can't give you any details, for I was—ahem!—sick at the time and did not quite understand," went on Hooker Montgomery, and Dave reasoned, and rightfully, that he had been under the influence of liquor. "Of course, they'll deny the whole thing. But that is what they plotted to do to you."
"Where are Merwell and Jasniff now? Do you know?"
"Yes, they are in this town. That is why I came here—to see them and get some money, if I could, for I am dead broke. But they wouldn't see me."
"Here!" cried Dave, in astonishment. "Where?"
"At the residence of one of Merwell's relatives, on the other side of town. Do you want to see them?" And a sudden look of interest dawned in Hooker Montgomery's fishy eyes.
"I do."
"Going to have it out with them?"
"Yes."
"Good for you, sir! I'll show you where you can find them!"
In a very few minutes Dave and his chums were on the way to find Merwell and Jasniff. As the party walked along Hooker Montgomery told more about his dealings with the rascally students. It was plain to Dave that the so-styled doctor had been nothing but a weak tool, and in a way the youth had to pity the poor wretch whom dissipation had so dragged down.
In less than five minutes the party arrived at a small residence set well back in a garden. The walk was unshoveled, and they had to pick their way through the snow. When they rang the doorbell a tall, thin elderly woman answered their summons.
"Good-evening, Mrs. Slater," said Hooker Montgomery. "I'd like to see Mr. Merwell and Mr. Jasniff."
"They have gone," was the sharp answer, and Mrs. Slater looked as if she wished to shut the door in the faces of the callers.
"When will they be back?"
"They won't be back."
"Will you kindly tell me where they have gone?" questioned Dave.
"Who are you?" And the woman eyed Dave suspiciously.
"My name is David Porter, and I wish to see Merwell and Jasniff very much."
"Porter! Then you must be that young villain Link told me about—the one who made so much trouble for him out on the ranch!" exclaimed Mrs. Slater. "Well, you can't see Link, or his friend. They have gone, and they won't be back."
"Have they gone to Rockville Academy?"
"You can find that out for yourself!" cried Mrs. Slater, and then slammed the door shut, and locked it.
"Very accommodating lady, I must say!" murmured Phil, sarcastically.
"Very essence of politeness," added Roger.
"Well, if they have gone, there is no use of our staying here," declared Dave. "Come on." And he led the way back to the hotel. Here they had another talk with Hooker Montgomery.
"If you'll promise not to prosecute me I'll appear against Merwell and Jasniff any time you want me," said the so-called doctor. And there the matter rested; and the boys went back to join their companions and help to make way with the generous supper that was awaiting the whole party.
"What place do you suppose Merwell and Jasniff were going to rob?" asked Roger of Dave, on the way back to Oak Hall.
"I am sure I don't know, Roger. Montgomery didn't say. More than likely those rascals didn't tell him."
"What are you going to do next, go up to Rockville after Link and Nick?"
"I've been thinking I'd go up there early next Saturday, before the hockey game. Want to go along?"
"Certainly, if you wish it. I guess Phil will go, too—if you ask him."
"I'll do it. I don't think I can manage the two alone."
"Going to have them arrested?"
"That depends on how they act. One thing is certain, I am not going to stand for any more of their underhanded work," answered Dave, grimly.
The day of the game dawned clear and bright. The contest was scheduled for three o'clock, and Dave, Phil, and Roger got permission to go to Rockville in the morning. They said they would meet their fellow-players on the river later.
Arriving at Rockville, the three chums put up at the hotel, where they rested from the long skate, and then had dinner. Then they started in the direction of the military school.
The street on which they were walking ran past the railroad station, and as they passed the platform Roger happened to look at the people assembled, waiting for a train. He gave a shout:
"There is Merwell now!"
"Where?" asked Dave and Phil.
"Just went into the waiting-room."
The three lads quickened their pace and hurried into the waiting-room. They saw Merwell and Jasniff at the ticket window, just picking up some tickets and change.
"I want to see you fellows," said Dave, coldly, and placed a hand on a shoulder of each of the rascals.
Merwell and Jasniff wheeled around, and the face of each turned pale.
"Wha—what do you want, Porter?" stammered Merwell.
"Ah, don't talk to him," blustered Jasniff. "Let go of me!" And he tore himself loose.
"Jasniff, you've got to talk to me," answered Dave. "If you won't talk I'll call an officer."
"Don't you do that!" cried Merwell, in increased alarm. "You let me go! It's a—a—mistake! I haven't done anything!" And he commenced to back towards the door.
"Merwell, you and Jasniff played me a dirty trick!" declared Dave. "I don't know whether to have you arrested or to take it out of you. I gave you a sound thrashing once, but it doesn't seem to have done you much good."
"You—you let me alone, Porter!"
"Where are you going?" asked Roger.
"Don't you tell them!" burst out Jasniff, quickly. "It's none of their business!" And he looked knowingly at Merwell.
"I guess I had better call an officer," suggested Phil, just by way of intimidating the rascally students.
"No—no—don't do it!" cried Link Merwell. "Come on, Nick, there is the train!"
He leaped past the others, and out of a back door of the station. As Dave, Phil, and Roger went after him, Jasniff went out of the front door.
A train had come to a stop, and a number of passengers were getting off and on. Link Merwell darted into the midst of the crowd, and mounting one of the platforms, entered the car.
"Going after him?" asked Phil.
"No. What's the use?"
"Where is Jasniff?" asked Roger.
"There he goes!" cried Dave, and pointed to the end of the train, which the student named had just boarded.
The train was now moving, and as it swept by, the three lads on the platform saw Link Merwell peer anxiously out of a window at them. Then, as the last car rolled by, they beheld Nick Jasniff in the doorway. He shook his fist at them.
"Just wait, Dave Porter!" he yelled, defiantly. "Just wait, that's all!" And then the train disappeared swiftly from view.
"Wonder if they are running away from the academy?" came from Phil.
"It looks like it to me," answered Dave. "I guess they are pretty badly scared. Maybe they know that Doctor Montgomery had turned against them."
"Well, if they only stay away it won't be so bad," said the senator's son.
"I might telegraph ahead and have them held," said Dave. "But I guess it isn't worth while."
"Do you know what I think?" said Phil. "I think they were at that Mrs. Slater's house the night we called, and what we said scared them." And in this surmise Phil was correct.
An hour later found the three chums down on the river, where they were met by the other members of the hockey team. A great crowd was assembling, and in the number were Vera Rockwell, Mary Feversham, and a number of other people they knew.
The boys from Oak Hall had come in sleighs and on skates, and they had brought their horns, rattles, and banners with them. The Rockville cadets were also alive to the occasion, and the combined din from both sides was deafening.
"Here is where we do up Oak Hall!"
"Here is where Rockville gets another defeat!"
"Remember, this is for the championship of the Leming River!"
So the cries rang on, drowned ever and anon by the tooting of horns and the clacking of rattles. Soon came a short practice, and then the two sevens lined up for the great contest.
At a glance it was easy to see that the Rockville team was a fine one. Every player was tall and thin, and an exceptionally swift skater. They had been well drilled into team work, and sent the puck from one player to another in a manner that brought forth many favorable comments.
"We sure have our work cut out for us!" whispered Ben to Dave. "They are the swiftest bunch I have yet seen on skates."
"And their captain is certainly a star," added Shadow. "I never saw a fellow turn quicker or send the puck with more force."
"We've got to fight and fight hard!" cried Dave. "I want every fellow on the job, first, last, and all the time!"