"We're in for it now!" said Jimmy in a voice which trembled in spite of himself. And indeed it looked bad for the four boys, trapped on a barren rock soon to be covered by the swiftly rising tide. "It's all my fault," he continued. "I thought I tied her fast. I'm going to be the means of drowning all of us. Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"
Peters was in a state of collapse. He had sunk down on a boulder too indifferent to notice that his feet were in the water. What did it matter now? They had no chance for their lives. "Let's call for help," he cried, as none of the boys had moved, and raising his voice he shrieked: "Help! Help!"
Out there the wind which was blowing in from the sea, bearing with it little wisps of night fog, carried his words away. There was not even a cheering echo. Apparently the others were toomuch discouraged at the outlook even to cry for help. In the silence that followed each of the boys could hear his heart beat above the lapping of the waters.
Peters turned suddenly and savagely on Frank: "Well, what are you going to do, stand there like a statue and see us all drown? Oh, do something!" he wailed.
Frank was standing as rigidly as a statue, indeed. He was looking out over the dark stretch of tossing water. His face was toward the shore. He had hardly heard Peters' last cry for help, so intently was he gazing and deliberating.
"There's only one way," he said at last, turning to Jimmy.
"And what's that?" was the query.
"Swim it," replied Frank steadily.
Even Jimmy started back appalled, and Peters, who was stepping nervously around, sank again on the rocks, weak at the very suggestion.
"It must be a mile," said Jimmy.
"Yes," said Frank, measuring the distance to the lights, which twinkled along shore like far-off stars, "it is more than that. The bay curves well in off Seawall."
"It is a chance," said Jimmy, "but a slim one."
"Oh, I can't do it," shrieked Peters. "We might as well stay here and drown. It would be better than drowning out there in the dark."
"Some one might pick us up," suggested Jimmy, "or perhaps theBlack Duckwill be sighted and give the alarm." The offering was not a very hopeful one, and Jimmy's tone was not even as hopeful as the offering.
Frank shook his head. "It's a slim chance, as you said," he replied slowly, "and meantime the water is creeping up here very fast. Look, that big boulder is out of sight now under the tide. No, there's nothing but swim for it."
Peters jumped up in a frenzy. "I tell you I won't do it. I'll stay here and drown. I won't try to swim it. If you had had any sense you would have tied that boat securely. You'll be the cause of my death." Peters was wild with fear.
"Would you have been any better off if we hadn't come?" said Frank, turning sharply on his companion. "Anyway, I didn't mean to ask you to swim ashore," he added in a milder tone; "I meant I would swim it myself."
"And leave us here to drown?" whined Peters.
"No, I'll try it to save you. I'll go for help."
"You mustn't, Frank," exclaimed Jimmy, coming up to him and taking hold of his shoulder. "It would be sure death."
"Well, it's sure death to stay here, isn't it?" said Frank. "The tide is coming in like a racehorse and even as we are talking about it the water is creeping up. I'll go now."
"We'll go together," said Jimmy determinedly. "I will not let you go alone."
"What, and leave us here?" cried Peters.
"For goodness sake, what do you expect? You won't swim and you don't want us to swim. Don't you see, you coward, that it's the only chance we have?" Jimmy was all out of patience with this boy for whose safety they had placed themselves in such a plight. "Keep a stiff upper lip and we'll have some one back here in a jiffy."
Peters seemed not to hear. He sat down again plainly sobbing. "You'llstay with me, Bates," he blurted out. "Don't you leave me."
"I couldn't if I wanted to," said that silent boy. "I couldn't make half the distance. I never swam a mile in my life."
"All right, then," said Jimmy. "You two go onto the highest point of this rock, and every now and then make all the noise you can on the chancethat some one might hear you," and he began stripping off what few clothes he had on.
"Hold on," said Frank. "This is my job, Jimmy. There's no use of both of us trying to swim it. You stay here——" He got no further.
"What do you take me for?" burst out Jimmy indignantly. "I'm going with you and that settles it. We might be able to help each other. I can't do anything waiting here, and I might be of some help to you. Let's not spend any more time arguing about it. I'm ready."
He was, as he said, ready. And be it known that Frank, while he was willing to undertake the peril of the trip alone, felt better that his friend and tried companion would be with him through the terrors of the water. He did not argue any more about it, but stretched out his hand in the darkness, and the two boys clasped hands in a long, firm grasp.
"All right, here we go!" said Frank. "Good-by, Peters; keep your courage up and stick to the highest part of the rock."
Peters merely whimpered and Bates said not a word.
It was a strange sight to see there in the gloom, that of our two heroes stripped to the skin, theirbodies showing white in contrast to the black rock and the still blacker water. Free of all hampering clothing, they were ready for the trial of strength against the threatening monster—the sea.
Quickly they waded out on the shelving rock, gasping as the cold water struck them with its chill. Another step and they were in deep water and struck out bravely for the far-distant shore.
"Let's keep close together," said Frank, as they were caught by the full force of the tide and whipped away from the rock. "If we get separated we will never get together again."
Jimmy, at this, swam up close to Frank, and elbow to elbow the boys drove ahead. The waves were running high but were not white-capped, which was a most fortunate thing for the swimmers, for the tide and the wind were traveling in the same direction. Side by side they swam, climbing up the long black slopes and slipping down easily into the trough between the waves, but making good progress. Their white arms swung rhythmically above the water.
"It's like coasting," said Jimmy, "only it's more exciting."
"Yes, it's great fun," said Frank, but it wasnot the heartiest response in the world. "Seems like when we go down in the hollows that we'd never come up again. And it seems as if we were going backwards. Do you feel that way?"
"Yes," said Jimmy; "there's nothing to gauge yourself by, but," casting an eye over his shoulder, "there's nothing to be seen of the island. I guess we are going ahead all right."
Nothing further was said for a time, the boys saving their breath for more important work. With every ounce of strength in their sturdy young bodies they forged ahead, now down "in the hollows," as Frank had called them, with the water towering above them and not a light visible but the light of the stars over their heads; now up on the crest of a wave where for an instant they caught the twinkle of the shore lights and steered for them, heartened by the sight.
"Look, Jimmy," said Frank, "that big light over there to the left must be on Seawall Pier. Take a look at it when you come up on the next wave. Isn't it?" as Jimmy slid up the slope to the top.
"I guess it is," sputtered the latter who, in the endeavor to see, had been met with the slap of a little wavelet which filled his nose and eyes withsalt water. "It ought to be about there if our bearings are right."
"Well, we'll make for it," said Frank, "and we must keep to the left all the time, for the pull of the tide will take us away up the coast if we don't look out. What's the matter?"
Frank had heard a splash and a gurgle from Jimmy, and then a succession of rapid strokes on the water. "What's wrong?" he shouted, as he got no answer.
Frank stopped swimming and began to tread water. His heart was in his throat. Something had happened.
"What's the matter?" he cried out again, and his voice rang with a strange appeal over that waste of water.
"Gee whiz!" said Jimmy, "that was awful. It nearly scared me to death."
"What nearly scared you to death?" queried Frank, relieved to hear his companion's natural tone in spite of the shake in it. "Something bite you?"
"No," replied Jimmy, after he recovered his breath, "but I ran my arm right through a big jelly fish that was probably lying just under the surface of the water."
"Horrors!" said Frank, who hated the cold, slimy, slippery things even in daylight. How much worse it would be, he thought, to run into one in the pitch darkness of night!
Jimmy now swam up. "I'm all right again, but for a minute I thought I was going to die. I was swimming the overhand when, as I drove my under-hand ahead, I stuck it right through the body of this nasty, slimy thing. It slipped right up to my shoulder and stuck there. I thought sure something had me by the arm, and I stopped swimming and sank." Jimmy, at the memory of it, raised his arms and smote them upon the water, throwing up a shower of spray. The action relieved his nerves.
"Don't do it again, please," said Frank. "Look ahead there, just to the right of the Pier light! I think that's a light in our window! I wonder if mother set it there for me. We don't seem any nearer, do we?"
"Maybe we're being carried out to sea," said Jimmy, but he was sorry the next minute that he had said it. Frank made no answer. He was thinking of the comfortable sitting room at Seawall, and wondering if his father and mother were hovering anxiously around there, or on theveranda looking seaward. Perhaps they might be even now down at the end of the Pier. Yes, they would be down at the Pier waiting. Or perhaps they were getting searchers to scour the bay for them. But would they find them, or would the sea next morning toss up on the shore two white bodies limp and bedraggled?
"I'm doing the best I can, mother," Frank whispered to himself, as on the wave crest he caught a fleeting glimpse of the lights, and the water in his eyes was not all from the wave top that at that moment went over him. He wondered about the two boys who had been left behind. How far had the water gained on their little island of rock? If he and Jimmy got to land and gave the warning, was there still time to get back and save them from the sea that must be even now creeping up on their feet? He shuddered in spite of himself. It was bad enough to be out here struggling with the sea, but it was something to do. It would be a hundred times worse back there waiting, waiting, watching the tide creep nearer and nearer to the last refuge on the highest point of the rock. He struck out more determinedly with the thought of the lone watchers in his mind. He must save them.
Suddenly from the shore there shot up into the air a long, curving streak of fire. Then came a dull, booming explosion, and the dark sea was lit up for a moment. The darkness which followed seemed even more black than before.
"A rocket!" shouted Frank. "They're giving us a signal."
"Gee," said Jimmy, after a moment, "it feels good to know they're thinking of us, but it doesn't help much."
"There goes another one!" Rocket after rocket now split the air, marking distinctly the place for which they were heading. The boys redoubled their efforts, swimming side by side with a steady over-arm stroke. Something of the horror of the darkness and the mystery of the rolling waters was taken away by the thought that the people on shore knew of their distress and were trying to help. But little could those onshore know how really bad their plight was. The rockets were being sent up as a guide to a disabled boat. They could not know that the long, brilliant sweep of light was being watched by two boys struggling for their very lives on the surface of the water itself.
"We must be halfway there, don't you think?" said Jimmy, in a labored breath.
"We've come a long distance, for the lights look brighter. Can't you see lights moving on the shore?" returned Frank. "Let's stop and look."
The boys stopped, trod water and raised themselves high as they reached the crest of a wave. Frank was right. The lights they saw were the lights of many lanterns, for the whole town of Seawall had turned out. Boats were being manned and people ran hither and thither on the shore peering out to sea.
"Come on now," shouted Frank, who felt heartened by what he had seen, "let's break the record for the rest of the distance," and, putting down his head, he tore ahead, followed by Jimmy more slowly, but just as determined. They had been plugging away for perhaps five minutes whenFrank heard a cry behind him. He stopped instantly and listened.
"Jimmy," he called shrilly, "Jimmy!"
There was no answer. Frank, with a sweep of his hand, turned face about and dashed back over the course he had come. A dozen strokes brought him to his companion, whose white face on the surface was his only guide. "What is it, Jimmy, old fellow?" he cried, as he drew alongside.
"Cramp," said Jimmy feebly. "It came suddenly in my side. I couldn't swim and I couldn't take breath enough to yell out. It just doubled me up."
"Here," said Frank, "rest on me and try to straighten out," for Jimmy was still doubled up. Jimmy lay back and rubbed his side vigorously, while Frank slipped an arm under his head and with the other kept afloat. "It was my fault," he said encouragingly, as Jimmy rubbed the kink out of his side. "That rocket made me crazy to get to shore."
"No, it wasn't your fault, at all," replied Jimmy, in a stronger tone. "It was the cold water. I felt it a while back and thought I could fight it off by working hard, but it got me at last, struck suddenly just like a knife. I'm all rightnow; come on," and, turning over on his face again, he struck out weakly. Frank was at his elbow watching for any weakness, but as Jimmy continued going smoothly he lengthened out his own stroke and soon they were back at the old swing. The halt, however, although only for a few minutes, had lost them ground, for during the time that they were not swimming the tide had carried them steadily ahead—but not shoreward. They were still far from safety.
Now they changed their course a little more to the left so as to cut across the current, and bore steadily for the lights which seemed to increase in size. They wasted no more words except occasionally one would say: "You there?"
The answer would come back from the other: "O. K." or "All right." They had no extra breath to spare. The distance was surely lessening, but so was the strength of these two heroic lads. How heavily swung their arms! Every few minutes they changed the stroke. Sometimes it was one arm over, sometimes the other, and again it was the trudgeon or the breast stroke, whichever offered a little rest. Both were nearly exhausted, but with the courage of despair they swam on, neither admitting to the other that he was almostdone for. They did not dare to float, for that meant being carried beyond their haven of safety. If they passed the little indentation where Seawall lay it was good-by to everything, for they would be carried into the wide waters of the outer bay and must miserably perish. This knowledge spun their failing strength out to the last slim thread.
Away ahead the lights danced merrily. It seemed to Frank as if there were millions of them jumping up and down and swinging sideways. How friendly they looked, but how utterly useless to help! How deadly heavy his arm felt! There was no force left in him. How nice it would be to lie still and rest! He stopped swimming and sank. The cold under-current chilled him and awakened him to the fact that he was giving up. "I won't give up! I won't give up!" he said between his clenched teeth, and he struck out stronger than before. Jimmy was splashing feebly behind.
"We're nearly there, old fellow," gasped Jimmy.
"Nearly," returned Frank. "Keep it up. Let's shout." They stopped and shouted, but it was scarcely more than a croak and could not havebeen heard fifty yards. "Let's swim," said Jimmy, "shouting is no good out here." His voice was scarcely more than a whisper. Again they resumed their weary drive ahead.
Suddenly out of the darkness between them and the shore came a hail:
"Ha-yo, ha-yo, ha-yo!"
Instantly the boys stopped swimming and turned their faces in the direction of the sound.
"Ha-yo, ha-yo, ha-yo!" came the call again, this time nearer. They tried to answer the heartening hail but had not strength enough to send their voices far. They stood in the water close together and with straining eyes tried to pierce the darkness. Then in the momentary lull of rushing waters they heard a drumming.
"A motor boat!" cried Frank joyously. "And I see a light. It's coming this way. Oh, it is going to pass us! Let's yell!"
Together the two raised as loud a shout as they could.
In a moment the drumming stopped.
Again the two lads in the water shouted: "Here! here! here!"
The drumming began and the light at the bow, which showed plainly now, although the boat itselfwas still hidden, swung and lurched as the motor boat swept around in a curve. With rescue in sight the boys threw their last energy into a fusillade of shouts and soon, "Ha-yo, where are you?" came a hail from the boat.
"Look out, look out, you'll run us down," yelled the boys.
A bell rang; the motor stopped and cut silently through the waves only a few yards away.
"Here, here!" shouted Frank.
"Great Cæsar!" said a voice from the boat, "it is some one in the water. Stop her quick," as the boat was driving past the boys with her momentum. "Back her! Back her!" yelled the voice now in great excitement. "We've found them. They're in the water."
In a less time than it takes to tell it the captain had maneuvered the boat to within reaching distance of the two in the water. Strong hands reached over the sides and quickly pulled them to safety. Neither could stand. They sank down into the bottom of the boat. Frank looked up and saw his father standing over him.
"Back to Flat Rock, quick," gasped Frank. "Quick, there are two boys out there!"
"Why, Flat Rock is under water at this time of the tide," said the man at the helm wheel.
"Not yet. Oh, not yet! We left two boys there, and they will be washed off in a few minutes if you do not hurry."
Instantly the captain ordered full power ahead, and away the boat shot in the direction of the lonely rock. The two lying in the bottom of the boat were made as comfortable as possible, and between them they told the story of what had happened since they put out from Turner's Point on that eventful night.
As the boat neared the rock the men aboard raised a great shout and were surprised to hear a feeble cry from what seemed to be the surface of the water. Maneuvering carefully, guided by the calls from the water, the boat crept nearer and nearer to the sounds. No sign of a rock was visible, but the strong light at the bow showed two lads standing, their hands clasped together, knee-deep in water. They were on the very highest point of the rock. Quickly they were pulled into the boat, chilled almost to death by the long exposure. Like Frank and Jimmy, however, both Peters and Bates were soon wrappedin the coats of the men aboard, and made as warm as possible.
"Now," said Frank, "the only thing to be done is to find theBlack Duck."
"We'll land you boys first," said the captain, and he drove his boat for Seawall, while the steady purr of the motor deepened into a roar. The waves shot away from her bows in a shower of foam as she raced ahead.
What a yell went up from the Seawall people as the boat neared the Pier, and the glad news was shouted over the water that the boys were safe and sound! The rescued quartette were quickly put ashore. As they touched the float, queer figures that they were, all bundled up in the coats of the men, shouting was heard from the water. "We've found them!" called a voice.
And even as they waited, in spite of the urgings to hasten to the house and dry clothes, a motor boat slipped into the circle of light thrown by the big lamp on the end of the Pier, and behind it came theBlack Duckon the end of a tow line! And in the boat sat Lewis and Codfish quite calm and collected. They had been picked up by one of the searching parties.
You can imagine what a reunion took placethat night in the Armstrong house! Even Peters, the cause of some of the trouble, was welcome; but that individual was none too comfortable, and was only too glad when his father's automobile drew up at the door to carry him to his own home. It was a night of jubilation, and the whole of Seawall joined to make a celebration of the wonderful feat of the two swimmers.
For a week after the wreck on Flat Rock, and the swim and rescue which followed, the Queen's Transportation Company did a rushing business. People came from far and near to take a look at the boys who were the central figures in the adventure, and incidentally they took a trip on theBlack Duckitself. The boat was none the worse for its jaunt with a dead engine up the bay on that eventful night, but thereafter Frank carried an extra set of batteries for any similar emergency that might arise.
Peters and his chum, Bates, had theNautilus—Peters' boat—raised and repaired. The injury done the boat in the storm was not great, as it happened that she had been driven into a bight in the rocks where, after she had sunk, the pounding of the waves did not reach her. Both boys disappeared from Turner's Point. Later it was learned that they had gone to anothershore resort, and they were seen no more around the Point that summer. The whole incident was closed when Frank was awarded the medal for the hundred-yard swim, the presentation being made by Burton himself. But it was a long time before the memory of that night swim left Frank and Jimmy. They could laugh about Jimmy's experience with the jelly fish now.
"But it was no laughing matter when it happened," was Jimmy's only comment.
About two weeks after the night in question the boys were seated around the big table in the Armstrong sitting room and Frank was figuring.
"And there's the total for our summer's work," he said, pushing a sheet covered with figures over to his father.
Mr. Armstrong laid aside his magazine, took the sheet and ran his eyes over the figures. "Pretty good," he said, smiling. "This means that you have about paid for your boat."
"That's just about what it does," said Frank proudly. "Look, there are our earnings—$132.00. Gasoline has cost us $17.25, oil $6.20, batteries $4.50, and we gave the old captain $5.00, and that leaves us .95 shy."
"Figures all right, does it?" said his father. "Sure your totals are correct?"
"Sure as shooting," said Jimmy. "We've been over them three times."
"Nothing outstanding, no rides on theBlack Duckunpaid for?"
"You bet they're not," said the Codfish. "I saw to it, as manager of this concern, that no one sneaked aboard without first surrendering his cash for our coffers."
"Good, then," chuckled Mr. Armstrong. "I was about to give you a dollar for that trip to Turner's Point, but I'll keep it."
The boys looked at each other. "It's a fact," said Frank. "Dad got past you, Codfish," and they all laughed. "Pay up, Dad, but that was only fifty cents. Our fare was twenty-five cents."
"Well," said Mr. Armstrong, laughing, "I'll pay you twenty-five cents each for mother and me, and fifty cents for the trip we didn't get. Here's your cash," and he laid down a new dollar bill.
"Hurrah!" cried the Codfish, "that balances our account and five cents to the good! This concern stands free of all debts and has fivecents in the treasury. Captain Frank Webfoot Armstrong, we salute you," and suiting the action to the word the boys all rose to their feet and bowed gravely to the captain, who acknowledged the salute with a joyful wave of the hand.
"And to-morrow at about nine," said Frank, "we will pay our last installment to Mr. Simpkins and the boat is ours. What say?"
"Agreed," said the others.
"And," added the Codfish, "let's take a vacation. I'm all worked to a frazzle with the responsibility of secretary, treasurer, manager, press agent, artist and general goat of this Transportation Company."
"Poor old Codfish!" said Jimmy. "He speaks well."
"He has the wisdom of a Solomon," cried Frank; "and besides, Jimmy, we ought to get in some work on football before we go back to Queen's. What would you fellows say if we were to tie theBlack Duckup to the dock to-morrow and try a little drop kicking?"
"Great," said Jimmy, "but where's the ball?"
"You don't think I'd come down here without one, do you?" said Frank contemptuously. "Ibrought a nice new one along with me and all we need is a pump to blow it up with."
"Oh, I've got a bike pump," said Lewis.
"Just the thing," remarked Frank. "Shoot up and get it and we will put the ball in condition to-night."
Lewis hurried off as fast as he could go and Frank dragged forth the football. The lacings were eased up, and when Lewis got back a little later with his pump, the four of them set to work to inflate the interior rubber bag. It was quite a job, as any one knows who has tried it, but after much puffing and much struggling with the lacings, and much sage and useless advice from the Codfish, the rubber bag was blown up tight and tied, and the ball was ready for use. And the boys were also about ready for bed.
It was with very deep pride that Frank, escorted by his three companions, rang the doorbell in the Simpkins house the next morning, and laid the last installment, a few minutes later, on the desk of the old gentleman himself, who sat there smiling pleasantly at the boys.
"I admire your pluck, boys," he said. "Here's a receipt in full. Thank you for your promptness. If you do all your work in the world aswell as you have begun, you will surely succeed. I am glad to have made your acquaintance and I shall always feel under a great indebtedness to you, Master Armstrong."
When they were outside, Jimmy said:
"And I thought he was an old skinflint the first day we saw him about the motor boat!"
"You can't always tell how sweet an orange is by its skin," remarked the Codfish. "Now look at me——"
"Yes, look at you," said Frank.
"Drown him! drown him!" cried the boys, rushing at the Codfish. They were in high fettle this morning.
With the receipt in full in his pocket, it was with a sense of complete ownership that Frank stepped into theBlack Duckand took the wheel.
"I want to thank you, fellows, for helping me," he said, turning to the three. "We are part owners in this old craft."
"Thank nothing," said Jimmy, who was as glad as Frank that the debt had been lifted. "Haven't we had all the good rides? She belongs to you. We are only the able-bodied seamen."
"Frank's right," said the Codfish, "we are partowners. I consider that my services entitle me at least to the paint on her."
"And much there is of it," said Frank, laughing. "But no matter what you say, she's as much yours as mine. And now for Seawall and football practice."
"I wasn't much atthisgame," said Lewis, "but football is where I shine."
"Shine like a bucket of mud," said the Codfish.
Laughing and jollying each other in the highest spirits, they headed theBlack Duckfor Seawall. She shot ahead through the water like a veritable duck.
"Guess she knows who owns her this morning," observed Jimmy, grinning, as Frank laid her alongside the dock with a nicety of calculation as to speed and distance.
TheBlack Duckwas tied up securely and the boys, after getting the ball, made for the little playground which had been established by some of the public-spirited citizens of Seawall several years before our story opens.
"Where are your goal posts, kids?" inquired the Codfish, as they hurried along. "You can'tkick goals without something to kick at, sonny." This was directed at Frank.
"Tut, tut," said that individual, "I've heard of people kicking goals without a ball. But I'm going to see whether I can kick the ball first or not."
"Do you know anything about it?"
"Not a thing. Horton showed me something about it one day last fall, and I've watched him coaching a lot. You just take the ball on a long pass from the center——"
"And I'm the center," broke in Lewis.
"Yes, you're the center, all right," said Frank. "Lewis passes the ball. I catch it——"
"You mean you catch it if you can," interrupted the Codfish.
"Don't interrupt your superior officer, or I'll fire you," said Frank. "As I was saying, I catch the ball, turn it around so that the lacing is up, and then drop it——"
"The way Lewis used to drop it——"
"Not quite, but I drop it end first on the ground, and give it a wallop with my toe as it is rising."
"Sounds very pretty," said the Codfish.
"And what does Jimmy do?"
"Oh, he lies on his stomach when we kick from placement and holds the ball for me."
"No work at all to that. I'd do that much any day," commented the Codfish. "But here we are. Now I'll take this very comfortable rustic chair here in the shade, and see how you put these theories into practice. If I get warm I'll ask some of you to come over here and fan me," and he strolled over and dropped with a sigh of comfort into a park bench. "Now let the fun begin."
The fun began at once. On the first pass, Lewis threw the ball away over Frank's head, and the next time dribbled it along the ground, but after half a dozen tries he finally got it to Frank, who made a fair attempt at a drop kick. It wouldn't have filled Coach Horton with glee, but he managed to boot the ball a little distance.
"Wonderful kick!" shouted the Codfish from his place in the shade of the tree. "Keep it up; you'll win the game in a minute. Wake me up when you do."
Frank paid no attention, but continued to work steadily. Gradually he began to get the right angle on the ball as he dropped it from his hands. The kicks rose higher and truer as he went on.Jimmy watched and criticised his friend, for although Jimmy knew very little about kicking the ball he was a natural football player. He kicked clumsily, but still he knew how it should be done, although he could not do it well himself.
By the end of the practice the boys were covered with perspiration, for the day, although in the latter part of August, was hot in spite of the sea breeze; and like everything that Frank entered into, he had played with a tremendous zeal and concentration. Nothing was half-hearted with him, and when other boys were with him in any of his enterprises, they caught his spirit.
"All over for to-day, boys," cried the Codfish, coming forward, stretching, but assuming the tone of a coach. "That's enough, kids. Report at four to-morrow. Very rotten practice," he added, "at least, as much as I saw of it, for I'm free to confess that the humming of the bees and the song of the football put me to sleep."
Together the four ambled back to the Armstrong cottage, where the three heated boys exchanged their perspiration-soaked clothes for bathing suits, took a dip in the sea and swam a half dozen impromptu races. They raced back and forth like so many dolphins, diving, swimmingunder water, splashing and shouting, then ran up the beach, rolled in the sand and dashed back into the water. After an hour of this they were ready to don regular clothes again.
The first day of football practice was the index of many others like it. The remaining mornings of vacation were given to the motor boat and the afternoons to drop-kicking practice, swimming and running. As time progressed both Jimmy and Frank gained perceptibly in physical condition and even fat Lewis seemed less flabby. Finally came the day of the Codfish's departure. He had long overstayed his visit as it had been first planned.
"I've got to get back home and lay in a new supply of duds," he said, "but I'll meet you at Queen's before another moon has waxed and waned."
He got a great send-off at the Seawall station as you may well suppose, for in spite of his rather odd ways and sarcastic tongue he was a most likable boy.
"He sees the funny side of everything," said Frank, as the Codfish, waving his handkerchief from the end of the fast-disappearing train,faded from view, "but he is true-blue all the way through."
"Which is a rhyme, Mr. Armstrong," said Jimmy; "and while we are fond of athletes, we can't stand any more poets. We have one here with us, you know—Lewis."
Lewis swelled up at this.
For ten days more the three, now left alone, kept up their daily work. September was ushered in by a few days of quite cold weather, and this gave them the chance to do more rugged football work. Frank and Jimmy practiced falling on the ball, Lewis acting the part of the coach, who rolled the ball in their direction. Then they practiced picking the ball up at full gallop, and after that they worked at grabbing it on the bound.
"Never could see the sense in falling on the ball, anyway," said Frank, after he returned from a race down the field, having snatched a bounding ball and tucked it securely under his arm, "particularly if you have a clear field ahead of you."
"Right-oh," returned Jimmy, "but you've got to be sure the field is clear. The old game used to be 'play it safe,' but in the new one it is allright to take a chance. But make it sure when you go after it."
"All right, Mr. Coach," said Frank. "I'm not such a shark at this game as you, but I'll do my best. My game is baseball. I don't think I'll ever be heavy enough for the gridiron. Do you think I will?"
"Sure thing," said Coach Jimmy Turner. "I bet you'll make the team before you get through Queen's, and all the quicker when they find out that you're a drop kicker."
"I'd like to make it," said Frank wistfully, "but I think I'd better stick to baseball. I know a little about that game."
Finally came the last day on theBlack Duck, and they made it a long cruise. They went down as far as the Point, circled Flat Rock, measuring the distance with narrowed eyes that they had covered in the long night swim, and finally, the tide being right, even penetrated up the river as far as Tub Island, and then back through the tumbling water under the railroad bridge.
The next day theBlack Duckwas laid up for the winter in Berry's boat house, and the boys, after a parting swim and run on the beach, said good-by to Seawall and turned their faces toward Queen's School.
It was the second day after Queen's opened for the fall term. The students, separated for the summer months, had met like brothers and clasped hands. Everywhere were heard greetings.
"Glad to see you again, old pard. What were you doing all summer?"
That was the favorite form of address, and when a group met they all talked together as fast as their tongues could rattle. The boys had been scattered at mountain, seashore, lake and forest. Some had had the great trip across the ocean to foreign countries. Others had been at their dull little homes on the farms, but they all had something to tell. Some of the faces were missing. A few boys had dropped out. Two had been drowned in a boating accident on one of the mountain lakes; but all of our old friends put in their appearance. There was WeeWillie Patterson, as diminutive as ever; Tommy Brown, long and skinny, but brown as a berry from tramping in the hills; David Powers, fresh from the big ocean liner; and last, but by no means least in this story, Chip Dixon and his own particular crowd.
These first days and nights were not prolific of deep study. Experiences had to be recounted and books were in the background. Our friends changed their headquarters to the more pretentious Honeywell Hall, but fortune did not bring them all in one entry. Jimmy and Lewis had rooms in the third entry on the second floor. Frank, David and the Codfish, were roommates the same as before. It would have been difficult indeed to have separated Frank and David, and under no circumstances would the Codfish have allowed himself to be detached from this company.
Bit by bit David got the whole story of the doings at Seawall during the summer. "I wish I had been with you instead of at the other side of the world," he said. "I was lonesome a good deal of the time, thinking what a ripping time you fellows were having around the old shore."
"And we were lonesome for you, too," saidFrank. "We missed you. It would have been complete if you had been an officer in the Queen's Transportation Company. But there's another year coming."
By degrees the boys slipped back into their school work habits. Seawall was forgotten for a time at least. All thought was centered on the great fall sport of football, or at least all thought outside of the classroom and study periods, and I'm afraid some of it even there. Our friends trod the paths of Queen's with a new sense of ownership. Were they not now in their second year and lords of their particular realm—Honeywell Hall? Last year they had been at school only on suffrance of the second class boys—so it had appeared to them—but the year had moved them along to a new and quite wonderful superiority.
"Have you noticed," said the Codfish one night, "what a very small fry this bunch is, that has so recently entered our sacred Halls of Learning?" The speaker put the question to the full court that sat in Frank's room one night after supper.
"You mean the Freshmen, I suppose," said Jimmy.
"You're the rightest chap I know," said the flowery Codfish.
"Yes," said Frank, "they are a year younger than we uns, but I noticed some pretty husky fellows there in the yard to-day."
"Most of them look as if they had just come from mamma's lap just the same, and I think it's a sin for these Second year guys to be hazing the dear little mites," said the Codfish, with a great show of disapprobation.
"Who's hazing them?" inquired Frank.
"Future tense, Webfoot, future tense," cried the Codfish. "I guess they've escaped so far."
"Well, what's all your virtuous indignation about, old chappie?" said Jimmy.
"The stick is in pickle for them, for I overheard a little conversation to-day that made me think as I think."
"You have long ears. Where did you hear it?" queried David.
"Coming around the corner of Warren Hall to-night I interrupted a little conference. Some one said 'cheese it,' and then the bunch began to talk very loud about the prospects for the football team."
"Was that a suspicious circumstance?" asked Jimmy.
"Something in the cut of their jib, as Captain Silas might say, made me think they were not so much interested in the football team at that moment as they pretended to be. My instincts as a detective got the better of my natural modesty—ahem, ahem—and after walking along a little ways, I sneaked back like the thug in the play and dodged behind that little jog in the wall."
"Go on, Sherlock."
"And what happened then?"
"Were they planning to kidnap Old Pop-Eye?"
These questions were fired at the Codfish in rapid succession.
"No, gentlemen of the Court of Inquiry," replied the Codfish, planting his gorgeously attired feet on the table end and leaning back against the window seat, "they were planning an attack on two poor, little mamma boys who have our old rooms at No. 18."
"The brutes!"
"The scoundrels! The worse than kidnappers!" howled Jimmy, making a great ado about it. "And what did you do—walk in and clean out the gang?"
"Do I look like a fellow who would get mixed up in the common bruising business? Look at me and answer me that! No, I leave such brutal tactics to you, Turner and Armstrong, and to such rough fellows as David Powers and Lewis Carroll."
"Hear, hear!" cried the chorus. "Go on, and what happened then?"
"Well, I came up here and now tell my tale to unsympathetic ears. If you had a spark of human kindness in you, one little chunk of the milk of humanity in you, you'd sally forth and save these children from the ruthless grasp of this marauding bunch of baby destroyers. But as you do not seem to be interested, I'll go and tip these innocent lambs off to the fact that they are going to be seared, and bid them dust out."
"Who were the gents you heard plotting, Sherlock?" inquired Frank.
"Oh, I couldn't make them all out," returned the Codfish, "but I'm sure of Bronson and Whitlock and Colson. Two or three of the others had their backs to me. It was too dark to recognize them, and they didn't speak loud enough."
"Three chumps, if ever there were chumps," said Jimmy indignantly. "They ought to be inbetter business. Wouldn't it be a joke to give them some of their own medicine?"
"There speaks a hero, a real Carnegie medal hero!" cried the Codfish.
"I've an idea," said Frank.
"Hurrah, Frank has an idea!" shouted the Codfish. "Shut the door and bar the windows for fear it escapes," and he ran to close the door and slam down the window. "Out with it, Master Drop Kicker. It can't get away now."
"Sit down, you lunatic," said Frank, laughing at the antics of his roommate. "My idea is just this," and they put their heads together and talked in such low whispers that it was impossible to hear just what plan was being laid. It is sufficient to know that about a quarter of an hour before the time that the Codfish had said the date for the attempted hazing had been set, Jimmy and Frank stole quietly up the well-known stairway to No. 18 Warren Hall. The remainder of the party stayed on the far side of the yard as a kind of reënforcement in case of need.
The two new boys were in the study and were startled at the knock on the door. But they let our friends in, and stood with inquiring attitudes.Apparently they were ignorant of the hazing traditions of Queen's.
"What's your name?" asked Frank, addressing himself to the larger of the two.
"Mine's Hopkins," said the boy addressed.
"And mine's Hewlett," said the other eagerly.
"And where do you both come from?"
"Milton."
"Glad to see you," said Frank, extending a hand first to one and then the other, while Jimmy followed suit. "And that's a reason why we are going to do as we are going to do, eh, Jimmy?" inquired Frank.
"You bet it is. Can't let Milton be thrown down."
"Did you boys ever hear of hazing?" said Frank.
"Oh, yes," said one of the boys, "but they don't do any such things as that at Queen's, do they?" and there was a note of alarm in his voice. "You are not hazers, are you?"
"Well, not if we can help it," said Jimmy. "But it happens that we are going to have a little party in your room to-night. We used to live here ourselves once and we like to come back."
"Yes," said Frank, "we are to have some callers here in a few minutes and we want to give them a warm reception. If you don't mind, we'd like to occupy your bedroom for about five minutes."
The occupants of No. 18 looked puzzled and dazed at the presumption of the intruders, so Frank took them into his confidence, and in a few words told them what was about to take place. "Oh, oh," gasped the new boys, "thank you so much for telling us!"
"No trouble at all," laughed Jimmy; "it's a chance of a lifetime. I've been aching to use my muscles for the last three days."
"Now all you boys have to do is to get into that clothes closet and keep still as mice. Don't even peep, or the cat's out of the bag."
The boys were only too glad to do as they were told and made for the clothes closet with alacrity. They were not the adventurous kind that enjoy roughing it. A chance to escape a mauling was accepted instantaneously.
"Hurry up, Jimmy, it's nearly eight o'clock. The pirates will be here in a minute if they live up to schedule." He had hardly finished speakingwhen the Chapel clock boomed out the hour of eight.
Both boys dived for the inner room, stripped off their coats, pulled down the blinds and, jumping into the little cot beds, pulled the coverlets up to their chins. They lay there and shook with laughter.
"What if the gang should send up a dozen kidnappers and carry us both out and duck us?" said Frank, in a whisper.
"'Tisn't likely they'll send more than two or three," was Jimmy's answer. "They would be afraid of attracting attention. They'll figure that two's enough for these little candy kids. I don't think——"
What Jimmy didn't think will never be known to history, for he was interrupted by a ringing knock on the study door.
"There they are; cover up," whispered Frank. "Keep the coverlet up to your chin or they'll recognize you."
"Not a chance of it in here, unless they have a light, and they wouldn't chance that unless they are masked."
The knock was repeated, and there still beingno answer some one kicked the door. "Open up, Freshmen," said a gruff voice.
"That's Bronson, sure," said Jimmy.
"What's wanted?" shouted Frank, in a weak sort of voice. "We're in bed."
"Oh, you are, are you?" said another voice. "Well, we'll come in and sing you a lullaby, eh, boys?"
"There's a bunch of them," whispered Jimmy, "we're in for it."
"Let 'em come," whispered Frank, in answer. "We'll show 'em a thing or two."
The door of the study was pushed violently open now and footsteps sounded outside the bedroom door.
"Where are you runts?" said the gruff voice, the one that had first been heard. They could hear the owner of the voice bumping around among the furniture. "You ought to have lights for the convenience of your visitors. Oh, there you are in your downy little couches for the night," said the voice again, and a hand grabbed the portières between the study and the bedroom and jammed them back.
"What do you want?" said Jimmy, in a plaintivevoice, into which he tried to put as much fear as possible.
"Just want to see two cunning little things in their nighties. Have you said your prayers?" There was a laugh at this, and both boys on their backs in bed concluded that there were three of their enemies.
"Yes," said Frank, "we always do that. Please, sir, what do you want?"
"We want you, angel face," said the foremost of the trio, and striding into the room he reached for the bed clothes.
Just what happened that leader of the hazing gang never quite knew. But as he reached out, something struck him hard right in the stomach. It was Jimmy's head. That individual had been curled up in bed waiting for what was about to happen, and as Bronson bent over, Jimmy uncoiled himself. With his head boring into Bronson's big body, he surged forward with all the force of his sturdy frame. Reënforced by Frank, who sprang instantly at Jimmy's attack, the two forced Bronson backward through the doorway and into the faces of the other two waiting there.
Into Bronson's companions they crashed andthe whole crowd went smashing to the floor with Frank and Jimmy on top. Bronson fought and kicked and hit blindly in the dark, all the while making desperate efforts to reach the door; but Frank and Jimmy, whose eyes had become accustomed to the dark while they lay waiting, could see fairly well, and directed their blows with telling effect. Jimmy landed a stinging thump on Bronson's nose, and when he took his hand away he felt something warm and sticky on his knuckles. It was blood.
Bronson, thrashing around on the floor with Frank and Jimmy on top of him, was begging for mercy. His two companions had gathered themselves up in the dark and beat a hasty retreat down the stairs, with only the thought of getting away with their lives. Frank, a straddle of the big bully's neck, and Jimmy on his stomach, plugged him right and left; and when they had punished him to their heart's content, and had him almost in tears, they grabbed him by the legs, dragged him to the door and into the entry and then, springing nimbly back into the room, slammed the door and locked it.
In spite of his hammering, Bronson picked himself up with astonishing alacrity and toredown the steps of Warren Hall as if the fiend himself were after him, while Frank and Jimmy rolled around on the floor in a paroxysm of laughter.
Pale and trembling, the two rightful occupants of No. 18 came from the closet and lit the gas. Their eyes met a scene of destruction. Scarcely anything was left standing in the corner of the room where the hurricane of fighting had taken place. But the destruction was nothing in comparison with what they had been saved from, and they thanked their rescuers almost with tears in their eyes.
Frank and Jimmy slipped on their coats, helped Hopkins and Hewlett to straighten up the furniture and departed.
"They will let you alone in the future, or I make a mistake," said Frank, laughing as he went out. He had lost some skin from his nose in the scuffle, but otherwise he was none the worse.
"I'll bet Bronson will think you two are worse than a den of wildcats!" said Jimmy, and his grin stretched from ear to ear.
Bronson and his companions did not learn ofthe trick that had been played upon them till some time afterward, but when they did know they laid plans for vengeance of which you will hear later.
"Have any of you fellows seen the football schedule?" inquired Jimmy one night after Queen's had been open about a week.
"Our rising young journalist, David Powers, ought to know all about it," said the Codfish. "Only thing I know is that it contains the same old lot, with Warwick on the end of it. How about it, David?"
"The schedule was published in theMirrorlast spring after Dr. Hobart approved it, and it isn't the same old thing by a good deal. Dixon took on some pretty strong schools. Don't you remember how you sneered at it, saying that it was big enough for the York freshmen, and that Queen's would be a second rater long before the big game came on?"
"You don't expect me to remember what I said three or four months ago?" retorted the Codfish."It's bad enough to have to remember a week. Why don't you publish the old thing again?"
"Being live editors, we did that very thing, and if you hadn't been asleep you would have seen it. Here's the paper," returned David.
"Oh, very well, boy, you may bring it to me," said the Codfish lazily.
Frank picked up the latest copy of theMirrorand launched it at the Codfish's head. "Thank you very, very much," said that individual; "I always like polite little boys. Yes, here she is, third page. Some schedule, that——" he announced, as he read; "listen: