CHAPTER V
A BULLY DEFIED
"Why don't you answer the knock, Andy?" whispered Frank, after a pause.
"Why don't you go yourself? I'm going to hop into bed again. You douse the glim. You're nearer to it than I am."
Andy crossed the room on tiptoe, and Frank was just reaching up to the gas. They both thought Professor Callum had returned, thinking to catch them. Such things had been known to happen among students.
The knock was repeated, but this time it was given in a peculiar manner. There were two light taps, a pause, then a heavy tap, then three light ones.
"That's no professor rapping," whispered Andy.
"Just what I was thinking," responded Frank. "I guess it's safe to open the door." He swung the portal wide, not taking the trouble to turn down the gas, and saw the smiling face of Jack Sanderson.
"I thought you fellows were never going to open up," complained the newcomer as he quickly slid in, and shut the door after him. "Did he come? Did he catch you?"
"Yes—and no," replied Frank. "Thanks to your tip we were in bed when Thorny paid his little visit. He burned his fingers with a match and went out in a hurry."
"Burned his fingers? Say, that's a good one all right! It's the first time anybody's put anything over on him in a long while. Say, you fellows are all to the rice pudding."
"Oh, we didn't do it," explained Andy modestly. "He was so interested in hearing us snore that he forget he held the fire-stick."
"Snored did you?" gasped Jack in delight. "Better and better! Say, I'm glad you chaps came to Riverview. We need some one like you to wake up this ancient place."
"Is it safe to talk here?" asked Frank, for there were several things he wanted to know from some student who had been at the school long enough to be an authority.
"Oh, yes, I don't believe Thorny will come back," was Jack's opinion. "His room is near mine, and I waited until he went in before I came out again. I wondered what he was muttering about, but it must have been his burned fingers. Crackey! That was great, and he did it himself! He can't blame anyone. Yes, fire away. I can stay a little while longer, then I've got to get back to my den and bone on Latin. Beastly stuff, isn't it?"
"Oh, it's not so bad," said Frank, who really liked studying. "But what I wanted to ask you was what ails this place, anyhow?"
Jack looked about the room before replying.
"Guess we forgot our manners," said Andy. "Have a chair. Frank and I will take the beds. Now fire away. We've never been to such a queer school as this, and we can't understand it."
"It's simple enough," explained Jack. "In the first place this is quite an old institution. I mean it was founded a long time ago, but of course most of the buildings are comparatively new—they don't look it but they are. Dr. Doolittle is a fine scholar, too. Probably more of a scholar than he is a business man, and the same thing can be said of the board of trustees. Some of them are old fogies, but I don't mean any disrespect. They simply don't know how to run things.
"The school used to be better than it is now. Then a lot of rich men's sons came here, and they had a fine rowing crew, a good eleven and a crackerjack nine. That's what I've been told, for of course it was before my time. This is my second year."
"How did you ever happen to come back?" asked Frank, "after you saw what it was?"
"I didn't want to, but dad figured out that as long as I was doing well in my studies it didn't make any difference whether I rowed on a crew or not."
"Do you row?" asked Andy eagerly.
"A little," admitted their visitor modestly.
"That's what we like," explained Frank. "We hoped we'd get a whack at it here, but—nixy I guess."
"We saw a dandy shell as we were coming up," went on the younger lad. "It was at some college below here."
"Yes, that was at Waterside Hall. They have a fine crew—in fact they have good teams in all lines. They used to be a rival of Riverview, but that was years ago. They don't even take the trouble to challenge us now."
"That's pretty tough," said Frank softly.
"It sure is," admitted Jack. "Things have been going from bad to worse. The nine and eleven didn't get any support from the school heads, and gradually interest in them died out. Then the crew melted away, and we had a good one, too, with a dandy shell—a four-oared one.
"Money matters grew worse," went on Jack. "Dr. Doolittle was just able to make things go and that's about all. Gradually a lot of fellows came who didn't care anything about sport. Maybe they would have if there'd been any to care about, but there wasn't. You can see for yourself how things are. The diamond hasn't been used this year. We tried to get up a football eleven a few weeks ago, but after a little practice we had to drop it."
"Why?" Andy wanted to know.
"Well, some of the fellows were sissies and found fault because they barked their shins. Then, too, old Thorny put his foot down because some of us missed class one day after a stiff bit of practice. Dr. Doolittle goes a good bit by what Thorny says, and he gave us a lecture. The next day three fellows showed up for practice and—the eleven was dead.
"That's how things have gone. It's punk, I admit, for there is a chance of making this a good school, and one that would have a standing in athletics. But the doctor needs cash to make it go. I understand he's thinking of selling a half interest to some man who has a pile of money. The man is coming in a little while to look the ground over. But if he'll take my advice he'll invest his cash in a wild-cat gold mine. He'd stand a better chance with it than at Riverview. It's a shame that such a thing is true—but it is."
"Can't anything be done?" asked Frank.
"Hanged if I know," replied Jack. "The fellows don't seem to care to start anything. I guess we'll just have to let things slide. I'm glad to know you chaps, anyhow. Come and see me sometime. There are a few of us who sort of hang together. Ward Platt rooms with me. He's a fine all-'round athlete, and he's sore that there isn't something going on here.
"He sure was broken hearted after he got here. He wanted to quit the worst way, and go to Waterside Hall. But his guardian—both his parents are dead you know—his guardian put his foot down. It seems that he is a friend of Dr. Doolittle's, and has a great respect for the doctor's learning. He's right, there, too, but a fellow has to have some fun."
"Sure thing," agreed Frank.
"And so it goes," concluded Jack. "There, I've told you all I know, and I've stayed longer than I ought to, but when I get to talking it's hard to stop. Now I'm going to cut."
"Maybe that money man will take an interest after all," suggested Andy;
"I doubt it;" and with that Jack was gone.
The brothers talked over his visit as they finished getting ready for bed. Frank was awake for some time after turning in. He was thinking of the conditions at Riverview and wondering what he and Andy could do to better them. It seemed a hopeless task. Frank dreamed that he had organized a crew and was rowing in a hotly contested race when he fell overboard. He could feel the cold water on his feet, and then a voice cried:
"Say, are you going to sleep all day? The rising bell has given its morning tinkle!"
Frank opened his eyes to see his brother standing at the foot of the bed with a suspended water pitcher. Frank still felt the dampness on his feet.
"What the mischief are you doing, Andy?" he demanded, drawing his pedal extremities under the covers.
"This is my new alarm clock," explained the younger lad. "I wanted to awaken you, but I desired to do it in a gentle manner, so I poured water on your tootsie-wootsies. Why do you sleep with your feet sticking out, anyhow?"
"Oh, that's some more of your jokes!" complained Frank. "But is it really morning?"
"If it isn't, it's a good imitation of it, and my stomach has its usual hungry feeling for breakfast. Come on—move lively, as the street car conductors say."
There was a goodly attendance at chapel, whither the boys went after the morning meal. Dr. Doolittle proved to be an interesting talker.
"I am pleased to welcome so many students at the start of the fall term," said the good doctor, after the devotional exercises. "I also understand that there are a number of newcomers. I hope and trust that you boys who have been here for some time will welcome them, and make them feel at home.
"The lessons will begin as usual to-day, for most of the new classes are now formed. I presume matters will go on as usual, and that you boys will have your sports. I wish to add a word of caution. Do not devote too much time to them, to the exclusion of your studies."
"No danger of that," murmured Jack Sanderson, who sat near Frank and Andy.
"I may have some important news for you in a few days," went on the doctor. "I apprehend—er—that is, I hope—that extensive improvements may soon be made at Riverview Hall. We are planning—er—well, I think I will say no more at present. I think you will see that the experiment—Oh, I am not in the physics class, am I?" and the principal, whose absent-mindedness had led him into confusion, stopped short and dismissed the students.
"I guess he's referring to that man with money that I was speaking of," said Jack, as he filed out with the Racer boys. "Well, I hope he makes good, that's all. I'm aching for a good row."
"So am I!" exclaimed Frank. "Isn't there some kind of a boat on the river that we can hire?"
"I don't know. We'll see after school. I'm off to that punky Latin class now. So-long."
The students dispersed to their various classes. Andy and Frank noted that there was little enthusiasm. There was none of the cheerful spirit usually manifested at schools or colleges. None of the "horse-play" in which an extra head of "steam" is safely let off. True, some of the boys ran about and pulled or hauled their companions, but this was soon over and they went in comparative silence to their recitations.
"Whew! This is like a funeral!" exclaimed Andy.
"It sure is," agreed Frank.
The Racer boys did not find their first day of study hard. They were, in fact, a little ahead of their class and were complimented by Professor Dickson in mathematics. But it was a different story in the Latin recitation, over which "Old Thorny," as he was called, presided.
Frank failed in giving some case endings, and Professor Callum, looking up from his book, exclaimed with a sour smile:
"I see you are not well prepared, Racer. You remain after class and write me fifty lines of Latin prose."
It was a stiff dose, but Frank never flinched. He realized that this was the first clash with the vindictive teacher, and part of his revenge for the interference in the episode on the boat.
"All right, I can stand it if he can," thought Frank. "And I'd do the same thing over again if Miss Gertrude was in trouble."
Somehow the thought of the pretty girl seemed to make his task less hard.
Nor did Andy come out scathless for he slipped up on a comparatively simple question in Latin conjugation, one that he knew perfectly well. But perhaps he was nervous over his brother's fate.
"Ah, another Racer fallen," said the professor with an attempt at a joke. "Fifty lines. Next!"
Frank and Andy finished their tasks about the same time. They found Jack waiting for them outside the recitation hall.
"Are you through?" he asked.
"Yes—done for to-day, and done brown," said Frank.
"So am I. I heard about you. Thorny can be mean when he wants to. But come on. We'll go down to the river. I'm glad I've found somebody who likes the water. Here comes Ward. Maybe we can find a boat."
The four lads were strolling along toward the stream, when Jack, looking up, saw approaching Gerald Welter and Luke Moss, his crony.
"Let's go the other way," proposed Jack. "No use meeting those two fellows. They may say something and we'll get in a row."
"What of it?" asked Frank, who didn't like the idea of running away.
"He may want to fight," said Ward.
"Let him," said Frank. "I'm not going around the other way on his account. Come on. We've as good a right to go this path as he has."
"All right," assented Jack, with a shrug of his shoulders. "But don't say we didn't warn you."
As the bully and his crony came opposite the four lads, Jack and Ward touched their hats in a form of salute. Frank and Andy did not. At once Gerald came to a halt and there was an ugly look on his face.
"Say, Freshies!" he exclaimed, looking at Frank and Andy, "Don't you know enough to tip your hats to your superiors."
"I do when I see them," spoke Frank quietly.
"What's that?" cried Luke. "Did you hear that, Gerald?"
"I sure did, and I'll make him pay for it. Look here, you two Fresh—"
"They've just come," broke in Jack. "They didn't know it was the custom to tip to the juniors."
"That's their lookout," sneered Gerald. "You can tip twice now, to make up for it."
He paused and glared threateningly at Frank and Andy. Neither of them made a motion toward his cap.
"Well?" fairly shouted the bully.
"If you're through speaking we'll go on," and Frank took a step forward.
"No, you don't! Not until you tip to us!" exclaimed Gerald.
"Then we'll have to stay here a long time," said Frank with a smile, "for we're not going to tip. This isn't a college. If it was we'd conform to the custom. As it stands, we're not going to. Are we, Andy?"
"Not on your life!"
"Yes, you are!" fairly snarled the bully. "I'll make you!"
He made a grab for Frank's cap. Our hero stepped back, not wishing to come to a clash if he could avoid it. But the temper of Gerald was aroused. He leaped forward and made another grab. Frank shoved his arm to one side.
"Oh, ho! You want to fight, do you?" sneered the bully. "I can give you all you want of that!" He drew back his fist, but he was not prepared for what followed, for with a quick left-hander Frank reached his chin and Gerald Welter went over backward, falling on the soft grass with a thud.