It was a black moment for the two cadets in the grasp of the caretaker.
With the cup in their possession and the task to which they had set themselves almost successfully completed it was little short of heartbreaking to miss the mark in this fashion. The man who held them was a big and powerful man and they knew by the iron grip upon their shoulders that resistance was out of the question. It was possible for them to put up a fight, of course, but it would probably take them so long that the entire effort would be useless.
Terry was the first to recover his wits. The man who held them was not looking up into the tree; he looked in grim satisfaction at them and apparently had no knowledge of the presence of Don above him. Terry realized that the other must be warned quickly.
“Well, Mr. Caretaker,” he said, loudly. “You seem to have taken my friend and me prisoners. What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m going to run you kids down to the town lockup in a mighty big hurry and put you behind the bars for housebreaking,” the man replied.
A very slight scraping noise in the tree above them ceased abruptly as the sound of the different voices could be heard on the night air. For a second there was an agony of doubt in Terry’s mind, but the man did not look up.
“You can’t prove that we were housebreaking,” said Jim, the idea suddenly dawning upon him.
“I can’t, heh?” snorted the man. “Then why else—”
The sentence was never completed. Something big and heavy that closely resembled a boy in a gray uniform shot down out of the tree, landing with all force upon the shoulders of the caretaker. Under the impact of Don’s body the man fell forward, losing his hold on the shoulders of Jim and Terry. Don went down too, but was up like a shot.
“Beat it as fast as you can!” he cried, seeing that Jim had the box in his hand.
“The overcoats!” cried Jim, as Terry darted forward.
“Got ’em,” the boy shouted. “Let’s go!”
A roar burst from the man as he scrambled to his feet, slightly dazed by the force and suddenness of the encounter. At the same time the side door of the house opened and the butler appeared. But by this time the three cadets were running like frightened deer over the lawn in the direction of the street.
“There they go!” shouted the caretaker. “Stop them!”
He began to run in their direction, but he was no match for the fleet cadets. By the time he reached the street the cadets were turning the corner a block away and were soon lost to sight. Back at the house Arthur Gates snorted with rage.
“Wait until I get dressed, Arthur,” commanded the senior Gates. “Order the car out at once.”
“Where are you going?” the son asked.
“Right up to the school to make the colonel pay dearly for this outrage!” shouted Melvin Gates, entering the house.
Meanwhile the three were on their way to the school, talking over their lucky escape.
“Let’s take the back streets, fellows,” Don advised. “There was quite an uproar at Gates’ house and we don’t want to meet up with any police who might be suspicious. Of course we could explain things to the chief but the thing we want to do is to get back to the school as fast as we can.”
“OK,” agreed Terry. “I guess we had better get into our overcoats, Jim. We’re pretty heated up and we don’t want to catch cold.”
“No, we don’t,” said Jim. “Here, you hold the cup, Don.”
When they had put on their coats Terry chuckled. “I want to compliment you on being a huge success as a sky rocket, Don! The way you shot down out of that tree onto that fellow’s shoulders was a treat!”
“I couldn’t have done it if you and Jim hadn’t been so prompt to warn me of what was going on down there,” said Don. “I had no idea, from up in the tree, that there was anyone else down there with you.”
“He must have been prowling around and heard us up there,” Jim said. “I didn’t hear him come up and the first thing I knew about him was when he grabbed my shoulder. It was a good thing that he thought there were only two of us.”
“When I dropped out of the tree I saw him, but it was too late to do anything about it,” explained Terry. “My first impulse was to yell to Don, but that would have been the worst thing I could have done.”
“Yes,” smiled Don. “As it was, it turned out for the best. He certainly went flying. Somebody coming fellows, and it looks like a policeman!”
“Had we better duck him?” whispered Jim.
“I think we had,” admitted Don. “He must know that cadets aren’t usually on the streets at this hour and the least he’ll do is to question us. He may even want to go up to the school with us, and we don’t want that.”
“No, we don’t,” Terry supplied. “He hasn’t seen us yet, so let’s slide in here.”
There was a garage close by with a narrow alley running alongside it and the boys quickly glided into it. But this particular policeman strolled right by the place and was soon lost in the darkness of the long street. When they were sure that he was safely out of sight they emerged from their hiding places.
“Whew, that was close, too,” commented Terry, as they resumed their way.
“It would have been bad for us if we had been caught,” admitted Jim. “Let’s hustle up to the school.”
The streets were all deserted and the houses black, for the hour was late. The three cadets met no one else as they hastened on to the school. They entered the grounds with a sense of profound relief.
“I hope that the colonel is still up,” Don said.
“He will be,” predicted Terry. “He knew what an errand we went on and he’ll be waiting for us.”
Terry proved to be a true prophet. When they entered the school office they found the colonel there waiting for them. He was impatiently tapping a long letter-opener on the desk, and at the sound of their entrance he sprang to his feet, glancing sharply at the clock.
“We beg to report ourselves back, Colonel Morrell,” said Don, saluting and smiling at the same time. The others saluted at once and the colonel somewhat hastily returned it.
“And I’m more than glad to see you back here,” the colonel exploded. “I’ve been worrying about you. Did you have any luck?”
“Unless I am greatly mistaken we have the cup right with us, in this box,” said Don quietly. He placed it on the desk.
“We’ll open it and see,” the colonel stated.
A hammer was procured from a nearby closet and with a few swift blows the colonel broke open the wooden box. As the last board fell away a somewhat tarnished silver cup was disclosed to view. The colonel raised it from the box and they looked at the inscription on the side. It read: “Presented to Woodcrest Military Institute by Melvin R. Gates for Excellence in Scholastic Effort. Won by Arthur F. Gates of the Senior Class, April 7, 1933.”
“That’s the cup,” murmured Jim.
Without a word the colonel turned it up so they could all see what was written on the bottom. All of them craned forward to read the brief message which had been written deep into the silver by the aid of a pin or knife.
The message was simple but tragic. It read: “I cheated. Arthur Gates.”
There was a moment of silence on the part of the colonel and his loyal cadets. Then the colonel said very quietly, “You see what it means, boys?”
“I think I do,” nodded Don in a low voice. “After Gates had promised Long that he would confess his dishonorable action he said he would write it where it would stand for good. Long didn’t know what he meant by that, but when he had left the room Gates scratched that confession on the bottom of the cup with a sharp instrument.”
“Yes,” went on the colonel. “Long never knew of that, and during the night Gates must have experienced a change of heart, so he took the cup on the following morning. He knew that Long would expose him if he went back on his promise to confess, so he stole that cup in order to create an atmosphere that would make Long the butt of ridicule if he ever came out with the story of Gates’ dishonesty.”
“How can a man with any sense of common decency do a thing like that?” wondered Jim.
The colonel shrugged his shoulders. “I’m very much afraid that Arthur Gates was never a shining light of virtue. We have found out that he was dismissed from at least one school for an offense such as he committed here. You can see that he would never have the courage to face the school and say, ‘Gentlemen, I cheated.’ Under Long’s persuasion he relented long enough to write the confession on the cup, but I guess he bitterly regretted his act later.”
“The cup was a nightmare to him,” said Jim. “He didn’t have the nerve to take it to a jeweler, so he kept it hidden in his own house.”
“Things are getting pretty bad,” murmured Terry, staring at the simple confession on the cup. “A fellow can’t tell a lie without having it come back after him years later!”
“That’s something a man can never escape,” replied the colonel briefly. “But tell me how you got the cup.”
Don related his share and the other two boys had just finished telling their part in the adventure when there was the sound of a car stopping outside the school door. The sound of determined footsteps followed and then the hall door was opened. Don, guessing what was in the wind, pushed the cup from sight under the colonel’s desk. A slight nod from the portly headmaster showed that he grasped the situation.
Melvin Gates strode into the office with his son Arthur at his heels. The elder Gates was fairly bristling and his son wore a blustering air that deceived no one. Melvin Gates shot a triumphant glance at the assembled party and then addressed the colonel.
“Look here, Morrell, do you know that these boys have been breaking into my house tonight?” he rasped.
“Yes,” said the colonel.
“You do, eh?” shouted the irate man. “Maybe you sent them to do it, eh?”
“No,” the colonel denied. “I only told them to go to your garden, but as long as they found it necessary to go into your house I’m glad of it!”
The elder Gates became purple in the face and Arthur stepped forward. “Look here, Colonel Morrell, this is no joking matter. I’m going to have these boys locked up!”
The colonel only smiled. Melvin Gates rapped the desk with his cane.
“So you teach your boys housebreaking, do you, colonel?” he cried.
“Why no,” said the colonel, thoughtfully. “That isn’t part of the program. But we do teach them to play the game of life honorably and to put forth every ounce of their strength to find out the truth and do the square thing!”
“Oh, what nonsense are you talking now?” growled Melvin Gates.
The eyes of the colonel blazed as he reached under his desk and brought up the silver cup. “This is the preaching that speaks for itself, Gates. After you have taken a good look at the bottom of this cup I want to hear you say that you intend to lock my boys up!”
The faces of the two turned pale when they saw the inscription on the bottom of the cup. Melvin shot an angry glance at his son.
“I told you to get rid of that thing long ago,” he cried.
“These boys have been after that cup for months, Mr. Gates,” went on the colonel. “It was for that purpose that they broke into your house tonight, and I want you to understand definitely that I heartily back them up, and so will the world in general when it knows the story.”
“But see here, Morrell, you are surely not going to let this thing get out?” begged Melvin Gates. “I have shielded this boy of mine from his folly and weakness for years, and it will be perfectly terrible if it gets out now. Think of our good name in this town, man!”
“How many times have you and your son thought of George Long, carrying the stigma of a thief all of these years?” blazed the colonel, seeming to swell up in his honest wrath. “Have you ever given him or his name any consideration? If it was simply a case of covering up a weak moral escapade of your boy which had not hurt anyone but himself I would gladly help you by saying nothing. But you have had no thought for the burden that George Long has been compelled to carry with him. Under the circumstances I have no sympathy for you, Mr. Gates, and I warn you that Long shall be cleared publicly as soon as possible.”
“Colonel Morrell,” said Melvin Gates, putting on an air of cunning that turned the boys against him even more, “I have a little money in this world. Now, if we can come to some sort of an agreement on this thing, I’ll make it well worth—”
But the colonel became red in the face with suppressed anger. He pointed toward the door.
“Get out of my school, both of you!” he quivered. “I won’t have my clean young boys insulted by your presence here any longer. If you think you can buy my tongue with your money you are badly mistaken, Melvin Gates. Please take your son and leave the school at once, sir.”
Realizing that any more talk would be a pure waste of time the father and son withdrew, gloom written on their faces. When they had gone the colonel turned to his grave-faced cadets.
“Boys, your work is over, and you may report to your quarters. If any discipline officer says anything to you because of absence from your rooms tonight, refer him to me. I commend you on your interest and courage in this matter, and Mr. Long shall know the full particulars. The cadet corps will be proud of you. Goodnight, boys.”
Silently the cadets saluted, returned the colonel’s goodnight and went to their room.
“I see the next Alumni affair will be a dance,” Don remarked, looking across the table to Jim, who was studying.
“Yes. Looking in theBombardment, are you?” his brother replied.
“Sure. I guess that is the affair at which Colonel Morrell intends to clear George Long,” Don went on.
“It is. There will be a dinner and a dance and then the colonel will tell his story. It will be a pleasant evening for Long and his wife.”
“Goodness knows they have it coming to them,” mused Don. “I’d hate to go around for a number of years with a cloud like that hanging over me. If I met an old fellow student I’d have to be prepared to see suspicion showing in his face or even to meet with outspoken slighting. It has been a fearful burden and I’m glad that it is to be lifted soon.”
“So am I,” agreed Jim. “Mr. Long must think we have forgotten him, though. So many months have gone by since we went to see him about the matter. Here it is the last of February already.”
“Yes, time has passed rapidly. It won’t be long before the spring is at hand.”
“That was a terrible tongue-lashing that the colonel gave Gates the other night, wasn’t it?”
“Nothing more than he deserved,” retorted Don, promptly. “Just imagine, he wanted to pay the colonel to keep quiet and let Long go on with this blight on his good name! Just as the colonel said, if the whole thing had been some failing of the son’s in which he had injured no one but himself, why we’d all be glad to keep still and give the man a chance. But that particular type of outrage calls for extreme measures.”
“Right you are. Where is that red-headed friend of ours?”
“Out visiting,” grinned Don. “That boy surely has a multitude of friends!”
Terry returned to the room just before the lights went out and brought some news with him. But before he told them the news he played one of the tricks of which he was so very fond. When he approached the room he tapped on the door sharply, turned the knob and stepped briskly into the room. Imitating to perfection the tones of Officer of the Section he called out:
“Attention, gentlemen! Stand at attention for inspection, please!”
Once a day their rooms were rigidly inspected and although the officer of that section was not in the habit of calling them to attention so pointedly the boys fell into the trap. Terry’s voice was so like that of the officer that the two boys put down their books, leaped to their feet and were just about ready to stand at attention when they caught sight of the grinning face of their friend.
“Ho, ha!” roared Terry, seeing the look of disgust on their faces. “Wasn’t that a pretty picture? I almost expected you to salute, gentlemen!”
“We’re going to salute you so that you won’t sit down for some time to come,” growled Jim, moving around the table with his chemistry book in his hands. Don leaped at Terry and bore him to the bed. The red-head was too weak to offer any resistance and Jim paddled him vigorously with the book, until he cried for mercy.
“I just heard something that will interest you,” Terry said, when the fooling had stopped.
“What is it?” asked Jim. “Out with it, or we’ll paddle you some more!”
“The Gates family has moved out of town!” Terry said.
“I’m glad of it,” cried Don, promptly. “I’ve always thought it too bad that such rascals should live in that fine, historic old place.”
“That isn’t such a sanctified place,” observed Jim. “Don’t forget the spy that lived there.”
“But the spy had even purer motives in life than the Gates family did,” Don defended. “The house is really a historic relic and I think some fine American family ought to live in it.”
“I see your point,” nodded Jim. “So the Gates’ skipped, did they?”
“Yes, moved out completely,” Terry replied. “No one seems to know just where they did go. Of course, they were dreading the time when the colonel will tell the truth about them.”
“Oh, sure,” Don said. “Well, we’re not a bit sorry to see the last of them. For a number of years the school has actually suffered from contact with father and son and nothing is lost by their going.”
“By the way,” observed Terry. “What is to be done about the matter of that scholarship that Woodcrest won so many years ago from Roxberry? When the story is published the preparatory school will find out that we didn’t win the contest fairly.”
“I imagine that it will be held all over again, or the matter entirely dropped,” Jim said. “I’m pretty sure that Roxberry won’t care to say much when they find that one of their professors gave Gates the list of questions before the exams.”
That proved to be the case. The scholarship contest was never held again and nothing was said by the Roxberry Alumni when the story got into the papers. As for the dishonest professor, nothing more was ever heard of him.
Just before the Alumni Dance certain cadets were appointed for the posts of honor at the affair. A good many of the first classmen served as waiters, but the cadets who had been most active in the establishing of George Long’s innocence were given posts of honor at the long tables at which the guests ate. In this class Don, Jim, Terry, Hudson, Douglas and Vench found themselves on the night of the affair.
The colonel had made it a point to gather together all of the men of the former 1933 class who could come and he was delighted to find that all but five members of that class were present. Three of these men lay in graves overseas and many more from that class were ex-servicemen from the United States Army. Two members lived so far away that they were unable to get there. Many from other classes were there and it was an impressive gathering.
Mr. and Mrs. Long entered late and were just in time to sit down at the table. The cadets and the colonel felt that Long had been purposely late, so as not to have to face any unpleasantness that would have spoiled Mrs. Long’s evening. Long had in his heart another and more chivalrous purpose, of which his wife alone was aware. He did not want to make any of his former classmates feel cheap by cutting him at first and then having to apologize afterward.
The cadets were seated at the head of each table, a procedure that puzzled the members of the alumni, for they had never seen such an arrangement before, and they wondered why it had been done. They were not long in finding out. After the dishes had been cleared away the colonel arose. Beside him, on either side, sat Mr. and Mrs. Long, purposely placed there so that no one could slight them. The colonel spoke amidst an impressive silence.
“Gentlemen of the Alumni Association, I wish to tell you a story that combines all the elements of tragedy, drama and fine courage. I will waste no words in telling it for I predict that after I am through you will all of you have some hand-shaking and talking to do. I wish the members of the class of 1933 to pay special attention to my story.”
Here the colonel reached under the table and brought forth the class cup which had been the cause of all the trouble and placed it on the table. A murmur went around and Long turned pale with conflicting emotions. And in the silence that followed the colonel carefully and quietly told the whole story.
“And gentlemen,” wound up the colonel, when the murmurs of amazement and indignation had subsided, “I wish to present to you the cadets you have just heard about. These are the men who tracked this thing to its lair. Mr. Donald Mercer, Mr. James Mercer, Mr. Hudson, Mr. Vench, Mr. Douglas and Mr. Mackson, please stand up so that everyone can see who you are.”
A storm of handclapping greeted the modest cadets as they stood in their places and instinctively the men of the school alumni stood up and saluted the red-faced cadets. With a sense of the fitness of things the uniformed cadets briskly returned the salutes and sat down. The colonel now turned to Mr. Long.
“Mr. Long, please stand up.” As Long obeyed: “Gentlemen of the Alumni, there is nothing that is necessary for me to say, except that in the name of the school I apologize for the tremendous wrong done Mr. Long. I present to you gentlemen in all his unspotted honor Cadet Captain George Long!”
This time the present cadets rose with the company and clapped heartily for George Long. Tears ran down Mrs. Long’s face and she was not in the least ashamed for them. When the applause had died down Long said a few words to the assembled men, thanking such of them who had believed in him and graciously excusing those to whom the facts had looked so black that they could not help suspecting him. Then the supper formation broke up and Long was deluged with those who wished to shake his hand and express their delight and beg his pardon for their past conduct.
The cadets came in for an overwhelming amount of praise and then the entire body of alumni and their wives went over to the school hall for dancing. Both Mr. and Mrs. Long embarrassed the boys with their thanks and praise. During the evening all of the honor cadets danced with Mrs. Long.
When it was all over the boys went back to their room and prepared for bed. The evening had been a happy one for them and they discussed it gravely, thankful for their opportunity to have been of service to George Long.
“It must have been a wonderful feeling for him,” Don remarked, as he washed for bed.
“Yes, indeed,” agreed Terry. “It was a happy evening for Mrs. Long, too.”
“I’d rather be George Long, with all his years of carrying the shadow, than Arthur Gates, whose life has practically been a failure,” Jim observed.
“You’re dead right,” Don assented. “Well, now the mystery is solved, and I wonder what we’ll do next? Settle down to a tame life, probably.”
On the following morning they looked out of the windows at a bleak, rain-washed day. Jim growled in disgust.
“Golly, what rain!” he grumbled. “It is fairly coming down in buckets. That means indoor sports for a time.”
“Yes, and it looks like the kind of a rain that lasts a while,” sighed Don.
Terry grinned with his usual cheerfulness. “Don’t let a little water dampen your spirits, my boys,” he advised. “A little rain won’t alter our lives!”
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