With so many other affairs to claim our attention, I have purposely avoided going into the details of the baseball season at Brill that year. As my old readers know, the college had a baseball nine and a football eleven, and both had, at various times, done well at one sport or the other.
This particular year, baseball matters had not gone as well as had been expected. In the first place, several of the best players on the nine had graduated the year before and left the college. Then had come a long wet spell, during which time only some indoor practice in the gymnasium could be attempted. Thus, at the opening of the season, the nine possessed four players who had hitherto played only on the scrub, and the whole team lacked the practice that was essential to success. The most serious loss was in the battery, both the pitcher and catcher of the year previous having left the college. Bob Grimes, who played at shortstop, was the captain, and after a good many tryouts, he had put Spud Jackson in as catcher. For pitcher, there were three candidates: a lad named Bill Harney, who was a tall junior; a much smaller chap who had come from Yale, named Dare Phelps; and Tom, who had been pushed forward by a number of his friends. Tom had thought to pay strict attention to his studies for the remainder of the term, but finally agreed to accept the position if it was offered to him.
"I think you are going to make it, Tom," said Songbird one day after Tom had been pitching on the regular team against Bill Harney, who had been pitching on the scrub. Tom had managed to hold the scrub down to three hits, while Harney had allowed fourteen hits, one of which had been turned by the batter into a home run.
"Oh, I don't know about that," replied Tom. "Harney isn't so bad. He had a little ill luck to-day, that's all. And then, don't forget Phelps."
"I'm not forgetting either of them. Just the same, I think you are going to make the nine."
The next day, Tom was put in as pitcher on the scrub, while Dare Phelps occupied the box for the regular nine. For the first six innings, it was a nip-and-tuck battle between the two pitchers. But from that time on, Dare Phelps seemed to go to pieces, while Tom struck out man after man. As a result, the score at the end of the game stood 4 to 10 in favor of the scrub.
"Tom, I think that settles it!" cried his brother, as he rushed up and took the other by the shoulder. "You certainly held them down in great shape."
"And say, didn't the scrub bang Phelps all over the diamond!" broke in another student. "My, he must feel pretty sore!" And evidently this was true, because a minute later Dare Phelps left the diamond and disappeared from view. Nearly everybody in the college had watched the games between the scrub and the regular nine; and that night the concensus of opinion seemed to be that Tom ought to pitch for the regular team.
"You'll have to do it, Tom," said Bob Grimes, when he called on the older Rover in the morning. "Phelps acknowledges that you are a better pitcher than he is, and I think Bill Harney will have to do the same."
"Better wait and see how I pitch in one of the regular games," returned Tom, modestly. "For all you know, I may go to pieces."
"Nonsense, Tom! I know you too well for that," and Bob grinned broadly. "We'll show Roxley College this year what we can do."
Every year there were two contests between Brill and Roxley, a rival college located some miles away. One contest was at baseball, and the other football. During the past Fall, Roxley had suffered its second defeat on the gridiron at the hands of Brill. But the Spring previous, its baseball nine had literally "wiped up the diamond" with Brill by a score of 6 to 0. My, readers can, therefore, well imagine how anxious the baseball management was to win the game scheduled to come off in about a week.
Since returning to college from his trip to New York, and then the longer trip to Alaska, Sam had given almost his entire time to his studies. He was quite a baseball player, but he felt that to play on the regular team would take too much of his time.
"If you are going to leave college this June, it won't make so much difference whether you pass with flying colors or not, Tom," he said. "But if I am to return in the Fall, I want to make sure that I am not going to do so under conditions."
"But, Sam, I don't see why you can't play a game or two," persisted Tom. "It doesn't seem natural for you to keep out of it altogether."
"Well, I have played some on the scrub."
"Oh, I know, but that isn't like going in for the regular thing. You could be on the regular team if you really wanted to."
This matter was talked over several times, but Sam refused to be entirely persuaded. He, however, finally agreed to go on the bench as a substitute, provided Bob would not ask him to play any inside position. By a toss-up, it had been decided that the game should take place on the Roxley grounds. As a consequence, the boys of Brill and their friends would have to go to the other college either by train from Ashton, or in automobiles or some other kinds of conveyances.
"Of course, we'll take the girls, Tom," said Sam, in talking the matter over. "We can go over to Hope in the auto for them, and I think it would be nice if we took Songbird along and stopped at the Sanderson cottage for Minnie."
"All right, that suits me," replied Tom, "Let us ask Songbird about it."
Of course the would-be poet was delighted, and he at once sent a note to Minnie, asking her to be ready when the auto arrived. The girls at Hope were communicated with over the telephone.
"I'm afraid it's going to rain," said Spud, on the evening before the great game was to take place. And Spud was right. By nine o'clock it was raining steadily.
"Just our confounded luck!" muttered Songbird, as he paced up and down the room which he and half a dozen others were occupying. "Now, I suppose that game and our nice auto ride will be all knocked in the head."
"Don't worry so early," returned Sam, cheerfully. "I don't think this is anything more than a shower, and we need that to lay the dust." Sam proved to be right, for before some of the boys retired, the rain had stopped coming down, and one by one the stars began to appear. In the morning, the sun came up as bright as ever, and by ten o'clock the ground was as dry as any one could wish. The day was a Saturday, and, of course, a holiday both at Brill and Roxley. By eleven o'clock, a carryall had taken a large number of the students to Ashton, where they were to take a special train for Roxley. All of the automobiles at Brill were in use, and with them all of the turnouts that could be hired in the vicinity.
"No time to spare!" sang out Tom, as he ran the automobile up to the college steps.
"I am ready," said Sam, who had a dresssuit case with Tom's uniform and his own in it.
"Where is Songbird?"
"I don't know, I thought he was with you."
"Here I am!" came the cry, and the would-be poet of the college came rushing across the campus. He was dressed in his very best suit, and wore a rose in his buttonhole.
"Wait! I almost forgot the horns!" cried Sam, and he darted back into the building, to reappear a few seconds later with several long tin horns. Into the automobile piled the boys, and then, with a loud sounding of the horn, Tom turned on the power, and the machine started off in the direction of Hope, soon reaching the spot where the automobile had gone into the river.
"That poor chap didn't hurt his machine much, so I have heard," remarked Sam, as they bowled along over the bridge. "But, I think it might have been better if he had come out of it scott free, and the auto had gone to pieces."
"We ought to call on him, Sam," returned Tom. "I would like to find out whether or not he is related to Jesse Pelter."
"Oh, don't bother about that to-day. Let your, mind rest on the game—and the girls," and Sam grinned faintly.
The run to the seminary did not take long. The Laning girls stood waiting on the porch, and once they were in the car, the machine was headed in the direction of the Sanderson cottage.
Nellie occupied the front seat with Tom, while Sam was in the tonneau with Grace and Songbird. The younger girl was in her usual happy mood, but Nellie's face showed worriment.
"Have you heard anything more about the missing ring?" questioned Tom, while on the way to the Sanderson farmhouse.
"Not a thing, Tom," answered Nellie, soberly.
"Of course they have questioned the hired help?"
"Yes. And they have also questioned a number of the teachers and the students."
"Has Miss Harrow said anything more about it to you?"
"No, but every time we meet, she gives me such a cold look that it fairly makes me shiver. Oh, Tom, sometimes I don't know how I am going to stand it!" And now the girl showed signs of breaking down.
"There, there! Don't think about it any more, Nellie—at least, for to-day. Think of the jolly good time we are going to have and how we are going to defeat Roxley."
"Do you think Brill will win, Tom? I heard some of the girls at Hope say that they were sure Roxley would come out ahead. They said they have an unusually strong nine this year, and that they have already won some games from the strongest nines around here."
"Well, that is true. Nevertheless, we hope to come out ahead."
"Sure we'll come out ahead!" cried Songbird. "With Tom in the box it's a cinch."
"Just what I say," broke in Sam. "Tom has got some curves that are bound to fool them."
In order to make time, Tom had put on nearly all the speed of which the car was capable, and in a short while they came in sight of the Sanderson farm. Mr. Sanderson was at work in an apple orchard near by, and waved his hand to them as the machine drew up to the horse-block.
"Better come along," sang out Sam, gaily.
"I wouldn't mind a-seein' the game," returned the old farmer. "But I've promised to pick these early apples and ship 'em. I wish you boys luck." And then he brought over a pail full of apples, and dumped them in the tonneau of the car. Minnie, looking as fresh and sweet as ever, was on the piazza, and when the car stopped she hurried down the garden walk. Songbird leaped out and helped her in beside Grace, shaking hands at the same time.
"Good gracious, Pa! how could you do so?" said Minnie, reproachfully, as she stepped between the apples.
"Oh, I thought as how ye might git hungry on th' way," returned Mr. Sanderson, with a broad grin. "If ye don't want to eat them, you feed your hosses on 'em." And he laughed at his little' joke.
"We'll eat them fast enough don't worry," cried Sam, and then, with a toot of the horn, the automobile proceeded on its way to Roxley.
"Some crowd, this!"
"Well, I should say so! Say, this is the biggest crowd we ever had at any game."
"And look at the new grandstand, all decked out in flags and banners!"
"And look at the automobiles! We'll have to hurry up, or all the parking space will be gone."
"Hurrah, Brill! Come down here to see us defeat you, eh?" And a merry looking student, wearing the colors of Roxley on his cap, and waving a Roxley banner in his hand, grinned broadly at Tom and the others.
"No, we came to bury you," retorted Sam. "It's all over but the shouting." And then he took up one of the horns he had brought, and sounded it loudly.
"Better let me take the car to the other end of the grounds," suggested Songbird. "You fellows will want to get into your uniforms and into practice."
"Oh, we want to get good seats for the girls first," broke in Tom. "It won't take long to park the machine."
In a moment more, they found themselves in a perfect jam of touring cars, motor cycles, and carriages. Finding a suitable spot, Tom brought the touring car to a standstill, turned off the power, and placed the starting plug in his pocket. Then the entire party made its way as rapidly as possible to the grandstand, one-half of which had been reserved for the students of Brill and their friends. Here Songbird took charge of matters.
"Just leave it all to me," he said. "You fellows go in and win."
"Yes, you must win, by all means, Tom!" cried Nellie. "Just remember that I've got my eye on you."
"Yes, we all want you to win," came from Minnie Sanderson. "I am going to root—isn't that the right word?—for all I know how."
"That's the word!" cried Sam. "I declare, before you get through, you'll be a regular baseball fan!" And at this sally there was a general laugh.
Tom and Sam would have liked it had they been able to stay with the girls longer, but the other members of the team were already in the dressing room, donning their uniforms, and thither the Rovers made their way. A short while later, the word was passed around, and the Brill team marched out on the grounds for practice; even Sam, as a substitute, taking part. Evidently, the outsiders living in that vicinity were of the opinion that the game would be well worth seeing, for long after the grandstand and the bleachers were filled, the crowd kept coming in the several gates.
"My, but this is going to be the banner game so far as attendance goes," remarked Sam to Bob.
"Yes, and it will bring us in a neat bit of money," returned the Brill captain.
"How are they going to divide this year?"
"One-third and two-thirds," returned Bob; meaning thereby that the winning team would take two-thirds of the receipts, and the losing team the remaining third. This money, of course, did not go to the individual players, but was put into the general athletic fund of each college.
Roxley won the toss, and as a consequence, Brill went to bat first. As the first man took his position, there were cries of all sorts, mingled with the tooting of many horns and the sounds of numerous rattles.
"Now then, Brill, show 'em what you can do!"
"Knock a home run first thing!"
"Don't let 'em see first, Roxley! Kill 'em at the plate!"
The Roxley pitcher took his position, wound up; and the ball came in quickly.
"Ball one."
"That's right! Make him give you a good one."
Again the ball came in, and this time, as it was a fairly good one, the batter swung for it, and missed.
"Strike one."
"That's the talk, give him another like that, Carson!"
Again the ball came whizzing over the plate. The batsman struck it fairly, and it sailed down toward second base. The runner was off like a shot, but it availed him nothing. The second baseman caught the fly with ease.
"Hurray! One down! Now for the other two!"
The second man at the bat went out in one-two-three order. Then the third player up knocked a short fly to first.
"Three out. That's the way to do it, Roxley!"
"Now, for a few runs!"
It must be confessed that Tom was a trifle nervous when he took the ball and walked down to the box. The eyes of over twelve hundred spectators were on him, and those included the eyes of the girl he thought the dearest in all the world. He gave a short sigh, and then suddenly braced up. "I've got to do it," he muttered to himself. "I've simply got to!"
As was to be expected, Roxley had its best batters on the top of the list. The first fellow to face Tom was a hitter well-known for his prowess. As Tom had heard that this man loved a low ball, he purposely sent in the sphere rather high.
"One ball."
"That's right, Clink! Make him give you what you want."
The next ball was intended for an out-curve, but, somehow, Tom missed it, and it came in fairly over the plate. Crack! The bat connected with it, and away the sphere sailed to center field.
"Run, run!" The cry echoed from all sides, and, almost in a twinkling, Clink was down to first, and racing for second. Then, feeling that he had time to go further, he bounded onward, and slid safely to third.
"That's the way to do it! Look, a three-bagger!"
"Hurray! We've got them on the run; keep it up, boys!" And then the air was rent with the noise of horns and rattles.
"Steady, Tom, steady," whispered Bob, as he walked toward the pitcher. "Don't let them rattle you; take your time."
"They are not going to rattle me," returned Tom, and set his teeth hard. He faced the new batsman, and then, of a sudden, twirled around and sent the ball whizzing to third.
"Look out! look out!" yelled the coach at third, and Clink dropped and grabbed the sack just in the nick of time. Then Tom went for the batter. One strike was called, and then two balls, and then another strike, and a ball.
"Don't walk him, Tom, whatever you do," said Spud, as he came down to consult with the pitcher.
"All right. What do you think I ought to give him?"
"Try him on an in-shoot."
Once again, Tom sent the ball over to third, almost catching Clink napping as before. Then, the instant he had the sphere once more in his possession, he sent it swiftly in over the plate.
"Three strikes! Batter out!"
"Good for you, Rover! That's the way to do it!"
"Now kill the other two, Tom!"
But to "kill the other two" was not so easy. The next man went out on a pop fly to third, which held Clink where he was. Following that came a safe hit which took the batter to first and allowed Clink to slide in with the first run. For the moment pandemonium seemed to break loose. The Roxley cohorts cheered wildly and sounded their horns and rattles. Brill, of course, had nothing to say.
"Oh, Songbird, they got in a run!" remarked Nellie, much dismayed.
"Well, the game is young yet," returned the Brill student. Nevertheless, he felt much crestfallen to think that Roxley had scored first.
With one run in, and a man on first, Roxley went to the bat with more confidence than ever. But it availed nothing, for Tom finished the inning with the Roxley runner getting no further than second.
"Now, boys, we've got to do something," said the Brill captain, when the nine came in. "Two runs at least, and three if we can possibly get them."
"What's the matter with half a dozen, while we are at it?" laughed the second baseman.
"All right. As many as you please," returned Bob.
But it was not to be. With all her efforts, Brill managed, during this inning, to get no further than third. Tom came in for a try at the bat, but the best he could do was to send up a little pop fly that the rival pitcher gathered in with ease. Then Roxley came in once more, and added another run to her credit.
"Hurrah for Roxley! That makes it two to nothing!"
There were looks of grim determination on the faces of the Brill players when they went to the plate for the third time. The first man up was struck out, but the second sent a clean drive to left field that was good for two bases. Then came a sacrifice hit by Spud, that advanced the runner to third, and on another one-base hit, this run came in amid a wild cheering by the Brill followers.
"Hurrah! One run in! Now, boys, you've broken the ice, keep it up!" And then the horns and rattles of the Brillites sounded as loudly as had those of the Roxley followers a short while before.
But, alas! for the hopes of our friends! The only other run made that inning was a third by Roxley!
During the fourth inning, Roxley added another run to her score. Brill did nothing, so that the score now stood 4 to 1 in favor of Roxley. The fifth inning was a stand-off, neither side scoring. Then came the sixth, in which Frank Holden, the first baseman, distinguished himself by rapping out a three-bagger, coming in a few seconds later on a hit by the man following him.
"Up-hill work, and no mistake!" said the Brill captain, when the team had come in for the seventh inning.
"See here, Bob, if you think you would rather try some of the other pitchers——" began Tom.
"Nothing of the sort, old man. You are doing very well. I don't consider four runs against two any great lead. And you haven't walked as many men as their pitcher."
The seventh inning brought no change in the score. But in the eighth, Roxley added another run, bringing her total up to five.
"Looks kind of bad," said Sam, to another substitute on the bench. "Five to two, and the ninth inning. We've got to play some if we want to beat them."
"Sam, I want you!" cried Bob, coming up. "Felder has twisted his foot, and you will have to take his place in left field."
"Am I to bat in his place?" questioned the youngest Rover.
"Yes."
"All right. I'll do the best I can."
There was silence around the grounds when the Brill team came to the bat. With the score 5 to 2 in favor of Roxley, it looked rather dubious for the visitors. Some of the onlookers, thinking the game practically over, started towards the gates, and the carriages and automobiles. The first man up was the captain, and he walked to the plate with a "do or die" look on his face.
"Now, Bob, lam it out for all you are worth!" shouted one of his admirers.
The first ball sent in was too low, and Bob let it pass him; but the second was just where he wanted it. The bat swung around like lightning, and, following a loud crack, the sphere sailed off towards left field.
"Run, Bob, run!" yelled a great number of his friends, and the captain let go all the speed that was in him. When the ball finally reached the diamond, it found Bob safe on third.
"That's the way to open up! Now, then, bring him in!"
This was not so easy. The batter up tried a sacrifice hit, but the ball rolled down well towards the pitcher, who landed it at first in a twinkling. Bob attempted to get home, but then thought better of it, and slid back to third. The next batter up was Sam. He had with him his favorite ash stick, and, as he stepped behind the plate, he gritted his teeth and eyed the pitcher closely.
Carson had been practicing on what he called a fadeaway ball, and now he thought this would be just the right thing to offer Sam. He wound up with a great flourish, and sent the sphere in.
Sam was on his guard, and calculated just right. His bat came around in a clean sweep, and on the instant the ball was flying down towards deep center.
"My! look at that!"
"Run, Rover, run!"
No sooner had the ball connected with the bat, than Bob, at third, was on his way home. He reached the plate before Sam touched first. Then Sam, skirting the initial bag, tore straight for second, and then for third. In the meantime, the fielder was still running after the ball. As Sam started for home, the fielder managed to capture the sphere, and threw it with all his skill to the second baseman.
"Run, Sam, run!" yelled Tom, fairly dancing up and down in his anxiety. "Leg it, old man, leg it!"
And certainly Sam did "leg it" as he never had before. Straight for the home plate he came, and slid in amid a cloud of dust, just before the ball came up from the field.
"Hurrah! hurrah! a home run!"
"Now, boys, we've started the ball rolling," cried out Bob. "Remember, only one more run ties the score."
The next batter up was plainly nervous. He had two strikes called on him, and then he knocked a small foul, which was quickly gathered in by the third baseman. Then Tom came to the bat, and was lucky enough to make a clean one-base hit. After that, came several base hits in rapid succession. These brought in not only Tom, but also the man behind him. Then came a bad fumble on the part of the Roxley shortstop, and, as a result, another run was put up to the credit of Brill.
"Seven runs. That's going some!"
"I guess this is Brill's game, after all."
"Make it a round dozen while you're at it, boys."
But this was not to be. The hits for Brill had evidently come to an end, and the side retired with seven runs to its credit.
"Now, Tom, hold them down if you possibly can," said Bob, as his team took the field.
"I'll do my level best, Bob," was the reply.
With the score five to seven against them, Roxley put in a pinch hitter by the name of Bixby. This player certainly made good, getting a three-base hit with apparent ease. Then followed an out, and then another base hit, bringing in Bixby's run. Then followed some ragged play on the part of Bob and his second and third basemen, which put out one man, but evened up the score, 7 to 7.
With two men out, and the score a tie, it was certainly a delicate position for Tom.
"Tom, hold them! please hold them!" pleaded Bob, as he came up. "Don't let them get as far as first if you can help it."
The batter to face Tom was a fairly good one, but the young pitcher remembered that this fellow had always struck at balls which were both high and far out. Accordingly, he fed him only those which were low and well in, "One strike!"
"That's it, Tom! Keep it up!"
Again Tom wound up, and the ball shot over the plate. This time the batsman swung for it, but failed to connect.
"Strike two!"
"Good boy, Tom, that's the way to do it!"
"Be careful, Billy, make him give you just what you want!"
Once again Tom wound up, and this time sent the ball in with all the speed that was left to him. Again the bat came around.
"Strike three! Batter out!"
A wild yell arose. Here was the end of the ninth inning, and the game was a tie!
"Oh, Songbird! do you think Brill will win?" exclaimed Grace, anxiously.
"I certainly hope so. We've pulled up pretty well. We had only two runs when they had five, remember."
"Hasn't Tom pitched pretty well?" questioned Minnie.
"Sure, he has! Those Roxley fellows are great batters. More than once they have knocked a pitcher clean out of the box."
"Oh, I certainly hope Brill wins," murmured Nellie.
There was an intense silence when the tenth inning opened. Frank came to the bat first, and knocked a little one, but managed to reach first. Then, on a sacrifice hit, he advanced to second. Following that, came a wild throw by the Roxley pitcher, and Frank dusted as fast as he could for third.
"Now, Carson, hold him!" yelled a number of the Roxley followers to their pitcher. "Don't let him get in!"
Carson did his best, but with two strikes called on the batter, there came a neat little one-base hit, and, amid a wild cheering and a grand tooting of horns and sounding of rattles, Frank slid in to the home plate.
"Hurrah! hurrah! that makes the score eight to seven!"
"Keep it up, boys! You've got 'em going."
But that was the end of the run making for Brill. The next man was put out with ease, and the side retired with the score reading: Roxley—7, Brill—8.
"Now, if we can only hold them," was Spud's comment, as he glanced at Bob and then at Tom. "How about it?" he demanded, of the pitcher.
"I'll do what I can," was Tom's simple answer.
Nearly all the spectators in the grandstand and on the bleachers were now on their feet. All sorts of cries and suggestions rent the air. Amid this great hubbub, the Brill nine took their positions, Sam going down to left field as directed by Bob.
Tom was a trifle pale as he faced the first batter, but, if he was nervous, the Roxley player was evidently more so. Almost before either of them knew it, two strikes had been called. Then, however, came a short hit to third, which the baseman fumbled, and the batter got safely to first.
"That's the way! Now, keep it up!"
"We only want two runs to win."
The next batter was one that Tom, fortunately, had studied closely. This man usually waited all he could in the hope of having balls called on the pitcher. As a consequence, Tom fed him several straight ones over the plate, and so quickly that two strikes were called almost before the baseman realized what was occurring. Then, as he swung at a low one, the third strike was called, and he was declared out. In the meantime, however, the runner on first had made second. Then came another out, and then a drive to second, which landed the batsman on first, but kept the man on second where he was.
"Two men on base!"
"Bring 'em in, Landy! Bang it out for all you are worth!"
"Careful, Tom, careful!" pleaded Bob; and even Spud came down to interview the pitcher.
"I'm doing all I can," returned Tom.
It must be admitted that Tom's blood was surging wildly. A miss—and the game would either become a tie or be won by Roxley.
In came the ball, and the Roxley player swung at it viciously.
"Strike one!"
"Good boy, Tom, keep it up!"
"Strike him out, old man!"
Again Tom twirled the ball and sent it in. Just the instant before it left his hand, his foot slipped, and the sphere came in, not on a curve as the young pitcher had intended, but straight. Crack! went the bat, and in a twinkling the sphere was sailing high in the air toward left field.
"Hurrah, that's the way to do it!"
"Run, everybody run!"
"Get it, Sam, get it!"
The ball was high in the air and well over Sam's head. The youngest Rover was running with might and main down left field. The eyes of all the spectators were on him. On and on, and still on, he sped, with the ball curving lower, and lower toward the field. Then, just as the sphere was coming down, Sam made a wild clutch with his left hand and caught it.
"Batter out!"
"My, what a catch!"
"Wasn't it a beauty!"
"Brill wins the game!"
Such a riot as ensued! Hats and canes were thrown up into the air, horns tooted loudly, and the noise of the rattles was incessant. The Brill students fairly danced for joy, and their friends, including the ladies, were almost equally demonstrative.
"Sam, that's the best catch I ever saw in my life!" cried Bob, as' he ran forward to grab the young left-fielder by the hand.
"It certainly was, Sam; and you pulled me out of a big hole," came from Tom. "When I saw that fellow hit the ball, I thought it was all up with us."
"Some catch, that!" broke in Spud. And all the others on the nine, and many of Sam's friends, said the same.
Of course, Roxley was tremendously disappointed at the outcome of the struggle. Nevertheless, as was usual, she cheered her opponent, and was cheered in return. Then the two teams broke and ran for the dressing rooms, and the great crowd of spectators began to slowly disappear.
"Oh, Sam, that catch was too lovely for anything!" cried Grace, when the two Rover boys had managed to break away from the rest of the team and their numerous friends, and had rejoined the girls and Songbird. "Why, do you know, I was on pins and needles when I saw that ball coming down and you running after it. I was so afraid you wouldn't get there in time!"
"Well, I just got it, and no more," returned Sam, modestly.
"He pulled me out of a hole," broke in Tom. "If it hadn't been for Sam, Roxley would have won the game."
"But you did well, Tom,—better than our other pitchers would have done," replied his brother, loyally. "Everybody says so. Why, four or five of those Roxley hitters can knock the ordinary pitcher clean out of the box."
"Believe me, there will be some celebration to-night!" vouchsafed Songbird, as his eyes lit up in expectation. "Bonfires, speeches, parades, and all that."
"Don't I wish I was a college boy, to be there!" returned Minnie, wistfully.
"Too bad! but no girls are allowed," returned Sam. "Just the same, I don't think we'll have to get back to the college very early."
It had already been arranged that the Rovers and Songbird and the three girls should go off on a little automobile trip after the game. Grace and Nellie had received permission to be absent from Hope during the supper hour, and Tom had telephoned to the hotel at Cliffwood, about twenty miles away, asking the proprietor to reserve a table for them and prepare dinner for six.
Sam was now at the wheel, and as he could handle the car as well as his brother, the run to Cliffwood did not take long. At the hotel, the young folks encountered several other parties from Brill and Hope, and the gathering was, consequently, quite a merry one. Tom had ordered flowers for the table, and also small bouquets for each of the girls.
"Oh, how perfectly lovely, Tom!" cried Nellie, on catching sight of the flowers.
"I think the gentlemen ought to have button-hole bouquets," said Grace.
"All right, I'm willing," returned Sam quickly, and thereupon some of the flowers from the larger bouquet were speedily transferred to three coat buttonholes.
It was a lively time all around, for between the courses that were served, the young folks insisted upon singing some of the Brill and Hope songs. As it happened, there were no outside guests present, so the students and their friends could do pretty much as they pleased.
"Sorry, but we've got to start back," said Tom, presently, as he looked at his watch. "Not but what I'd rather stay here than go to Brill for the celebration!" and he looked fondly at Nellie.
"What's the matter with my driving the car?" suggested Songbird, who was well able to perform that service. "You've both had a whack at it; it seems to me it's my turn now."
Both of the Rovers were willing, and a short time later, with Songbird at the wheel and Minnie beside him, and the Rovers and the Laning girls in the tonneau, the touring car left the hotel and started on the way to the Sanderson cottage and the seminary.
"What's the matter with a song?" cried Sam, as the car sped along.
"Right you are!" returned his brother. "Girls, what shall it be?"
Instead of replying, Nellie started up an old favorite at the college, sung to the tune of "Camping on the Old Camp Ground." Instantly all of the others joined in.
"Some song!" exclaimed Tom, after the first verse had come to an end. "Now then, altogether!" and he waved his hand like a band leader. The voices of the young people arose sweetly on the evening air, but hardly had they sung two lines of the second verse, when there came an unexpected interruption.
Bang! The sound came from below them. Then the touring car suddenly swerved to the side of the road. Almost as quickly Songbird threw out the clutch and applied both brakes. They came to a standstill in the middle of the roadway.
"Oh, Tom! what's the matter?" gasped Nellie "I don't know, but I'm afraid it's a blowout," was the serious reply.
"Oh, what luck!"
"And just when we wanted to make time, too!"
"I hope it doesn't take us long to put on another tire!"
These remarks came from the three students as they climbed down from the car to make an examination of the damage done. Sam had secured his searchlight, but this was hardly needed. One glance at the left-hand back tire told the story. They had evidently run over something sharp—perhaps a piece of glass—and there was a cut in the shoe at least three inches long. Through this, the inner tube had blown out with the report that had so startled them.
"Well, boys, everybody on the job!" cried Tom, and lost no time in stripping off his coat and donning a jumper, which he carried for use when working on the car.
"I suppose that's my fault," said Songbird, much crestfallen.
"It might have happened to any of us, Songbird," returned Sam. "Let us see how quickly we can put on another shoe and inner tube." He, too, put on a jumper, and in a few minutes the boys had the back axle of the touring car jacked up.
"You hold the light, Songbird," directed Tom. "Sam and I can do this work without any help." Then the two Rovers set to work, and in a very short time the old shoe with its inner tube had been removed. In the meantime, Songbird had brought out another inner tube, and unstrapped one of the extra shoes attached to the side of the car, and these were quickly placed over the wheel rim.
"Now, let me do my share of the pumping," insisted Songbird.
"Nothing doing on that score, Songbird!" replied Tom, quickly. "We had a new power pump installed last week. I will attach it, and then you can start up the motor."
"A power pump! Say, that beats hand pumping all to pieces."
"Indeed, it does!" broke in Sam. "I never minded putting on a new tire, but the pumping-up always came hard."
"Say, this puts me in mind of a story," came from Tom, with a grin. "Some Germans were going on an automobile tour, and a friend was bidding them good-bye. Says the friend: 'Uf you haf a blowout, be sure and haf it in de right place—at de hotel!'" And at this little joke there was a general laugh.
Five minutes more found them again on the way, and now Songbird had the large lights turned on, which made the roadway ahead as bright as day. He drove as speedily as possible, but with great care, avoiding everything that looked as if it might harm the tires.
"Oh, what a splendid time I have had!" exclaimed Minnie, as, all too soon, the Sanderson homestead was reached. Then Songbird assisted her to alight, and insisted upon accompanying her into the cottage.
"I will wager he would rather stay here than go on to Brill," remarked Tom, slyly.
"Sure thing!" returned Sam. "Wouldn't we rather remain at Hope than go to Brill?" And at this pointed remark both of the girls giggled.
Those outside waited for several minutes, and then Tom sounded the horn loudly. Soon Songbird re-appeared and took his place at the wheel, and then the automobile was turned in the direction of the seminary.
"When will we see you again?" remarked Nellie, when the touring car had been run through the grounds.
"Oh, it won't be very long," replied Tom. But as he spoke, little did he realize under what peculiar conditions they would come together again.
"If you hear anything more about that money affair, let us know at once," whispered Sam to Grace.
"I will, Sam," returned the girl; and a few minutes later the young folks bade each other a fond good-night, and the touring car turned towards Brill.
The lads were still some distance from the college grounds when they heard the sounds of horns and rattles. Then they beheld a glimmer of light down by the river bank. Soon the light brightened until it covered a goodly portion of the sky.
"Some bonfires and some noise!" was Sam's comment.
"Well, we don't defeat Roxley every day in the year," returned Tom, gaily. "Say, this suits me right down to the ground! Songbird, you ought to get up a poem in honor of the occasion."
"Perhaps I will," answered the would-be poet of the college, and then he began to murmur to himself. Evidently the poem was already beginning to shape itself in his fertile mind.
"I say, you Rovers!" came a call as the car swung into the roadway lining one side of the campus. "What's the matter with giving us a joy ride?" and one of the students came running forward, followed by several others. Two of them carried torches made of old brooms dipped in tar.
"Nothing doing to-night," returned Sam quickly, and added in a whisper to Tom: "Those fellows would wreck the car completely."
"I know it," answered the older Rover, and then he said aloud: "We have had all the run we want this evening. We are going to celebrate with the rest of the crowd down at the river." And without stopping to argue the matter, Tom ran the automobile to its garage.
"Back, safe an' sound, eh?" questioned Abner Filbury, as he came forward to take charge of the machine.
"Ab, you look out that some of the fellows don't take this car to-night," warned Tom.
"There ain't no cars goin' out less'n I've the correct orders for 'em," replied Abner. "This is the last machine in, an' I'm goin' to lock up an' stay on guard. If anybody tries to break in here against orders, they'll git a dose of buckshot in 'em." And Abner pointed grimly at a shotgun that hung on one of the walls.
"Oh, Ab, don't go in for shooting anybody!" exclaimed Sam, in alarm. "Turn the hose on them, that will be enough."
"All right, jest as you say. But they ain't goin' to git in here at these machines without permission."
Tom and Sam made a hasty visit to their room, and then hurried downstairs again and off to the waterfront. Here, several bonfires had been lit. They were composed of boxes and barrels with a large quantity of brushwood added, and one bonfire was nearly twenty feet in height.
"Here they come!" called out a student.
"Hurrah for our pitcher!"
"And the best fly catcher Brill ever saw!"
"Say, this is certainly some bonfire!" exclaimed Sam, looking at the big blaze.
"It sure is!" returned his brother. "If the wind should shift, it might prove dangerous," he added, as he watched a great mass of sparks floating across the stream and over the woods beyond.
"Oh, it's perfectly safe," came from Paul Orben, who was one of the students who had helped to pile up the combustibles.
The crowd was certainly a gay one, and the Rovers lost no time in joining in the festivities. One student had a bugle, and another had an old base drum which boasted of only one head. These two succeeded in forming a crowd of their fellow-students into marching order, and, singing gaily and tooting horns and sounding rattles, and with numerous torches flickering, the collegians tramped around the college buildings and over the campus and then back to the bonfires.
"Whoop! Hurrah!" came a sudden yell, and from one of the distant barns rushed half a dozen students, dragging behind them a buggy. On the seat, wearing an exceedingly tight jockey jacket, and likewise a jockey cap, sat old man Filbury, the general caretaker of the dormitories.
"Hurrah! Here the conquering hero comes!"
"It's a race—a race for a thousand dollars!"
"I'll bet on Filbury, every time!"
"Now, see here, gents, I don't like this at all. You lemme out o' this here kerridge," wailed the old man-of-all-work. "I ain't doin' none o' this celebratin'. I got some work to do. You let me go."
"Oh, we couldn't think of it, Filbury," cried Stanley, who was one of the students at the shafts of the carriage. "Now then, boys, together!" And along the turnout rattled, past the various bonfires.
"Speech! Speech!" came another cry. "Filbury, can't you say something about Brill and this glorious victory?"
"Never mind the victory," came from Tom. "Let him tell us about how to pass our examinations without studying."
"And how to get credit down in town without paying any bills," put in another student, who, evidently, had hard work making both ends meet.
"I tell you, I ain't a-goin' to make no speech," wailed old Filbury. "I've got work to do. You lemme go."
"Sam," whispered Tom, catching his brother, by the arm, "what's the matter with giving William Philander a ride with old Filbury?"
"Just the cheese, Tom!" returned the young Rover. "But how can we do it?"
The matter was talked over for a short minute, and Spud and Bob were called in to aid. William Philander Tubbs sat on a small packing case which had not, as yet, been fed to the flames. He was, as usual, faultlessly attired, even down to his spats.
Passing the word to those who had charge of the carriage and who were doing their best to get some fun out of old Filbury, Tom and Sam and their chums worked their way to a position behind William Philander. Then came a sudden rush, and the dudish student found himself caught up and carried bodily over to the carriage, where he was unceremoniously dumped on the seat beside the old man-of-all-work.
"My gracious me! What does this mean?" gasped the astonished William Philander. "I don't want any ride, I want you to leave me alone."
"All aboard, everybody!" sang out Tom, and gave the carriage a shove from behind. Before the dudish student could attempt to leap to the ground, the turnout was once more in motion and dashing along the campus roadway as fast as the students could pull and push it.
"Them boys is plumb crazy!" gasped old Filbury.
"Oh, I never! We shall certainly be hurt," wailed William Philander. And then, as two wheels of the turnout went over a big stone, he clutched old Filbury wildly by the shoulder. Then the carriage struck another stone, and both occupants held fast for dear life. Three times the turnout, with its terrified occupants, circled the campus. All the while William Philander and old Filbury were yelling wildly for their tormentors to stop. But now, a long rope had been hitched fast to the front axle, and fully two dozen students had hold of this, fresh ones continually taking the places of those who became tired out. As it was, Sam and Tom went around twice, and then fell out to rest.
"Say, Washer," said a student named Lamar to his close chum, "here's a chance to square up with old Filbury for the way he treated us."
"What do you mean?" asked the student named Washer.
"Let us get in the lead on the rope, and run the carriage down to the river."
"Say, that's just the cheese!" chuckled the other. "We'll do it. I think old Filbury deserves something for reporting us as he did."
On and on went the carriage, but at the turn in the roadway it was suddenly hauled over the grass and between some bushes.
"Oh, Tom, look! They are heading for the river!" cried Sam.
"All aboard!" yelled Washer. "Now then, straight ahead!" He and Lamar had headed for the water. Some of the students tried to turn to the right or the left, but others followed the leaders. In a moment more, the carriage had reached the sloping bank of the river. Then the crowd scattered, and a moment later the turnout, with a twist, struck the water and went over sideways, plunging old Filbury and William Philander into the stream.
"My, what a dive!"
"Everybody to the rescue!"
"Somebody get some life-preservers!"
So the cries arose as the students ran from every direction and lined the bank of the river, which, at this point, was but a few feet deep.
Old Filbury was the first to reappear, and as he stood up in water and mud that reached his waist, he shook his fist at his tormentors.
"You'll pay for this!" he cried. "I'll fix yer! I'll have yer all sent home, you'll see if I don't!"
In the meantime, William Philander had also struggled to his feet. He had lost his cap, and on the top of his head rested a mass of grass and mud. He came out of the water spluttering and shaking himself.
"I won't stand this! I'll have you all arrested!" he gasped.
"It was an accident," came from one of the students.
"It was not! It was done on purpose!"
"Sure! it was done a purpose!" roared old Filbury. "I never seen such goin's on in my life!"
"Never mind, you needed a bath, Filbury," shouted one student. And at this there was a laugh.
"I am going to report all of you," stormed William Philander. "Look at this suit, it is ruined!" and he held up the sides of his coat to view. The water and mud were dripping profusely from the garment.
"Better go down to the gym and get under a shower," suggested Spud.
"I am not. I am going to my room," retorted William Philander. And then, of a sudden, he took to his heels, burst through the crowd, and hurried toward one of the college buildings. At the same time, Filbury started to run for one of the stables.
"Say, Tom, that was rather rough," remarked Sam, after the two had disappeared.
"It sure was, Sam. I didn't think they would run the carriage into the water like that."
"It was Washer's and Lamar's fault."
"I know it. They are always out for carrying a joke to the limit. I suppose they had it in for old Filbury, and they must have had it in for Tubbs, too."
"I wonder if either of them will make a kick over the way they have been treated," put in Bob. It may be stated here, that, in the end, nothing came of the incident. Filbury stormed around a little, and so did William Philander, but, to their credit be it said, both were "sports" enough not to take their complaints to the college management.
All good times must come to an end, and by midnight the bonfires had burned themselves out, and, one by one, the students retired. The carriage was righted and taken back to the place where it belonged.
For the best part of a week after this, but little out of the ordinary occurred. With the excitement attending the close of the baseball season over, the Rovers applied themselves more diligently than ever to their studies. During that time they received notes from Grace and Nellie, stating that nothing new had developed concerning the missing four-hundred-dollar ring. They also received another letter from Dick, in which the oldest Rover boy stated that he and the lawyer had made a final settlement with Pelter, Japson & Company, and that he had heard that the brokers were about to leave New York City for good.
"By the way, Tom," said Sam, after reading the letter from Dick, "this puts me in mind: What became of that fellow we hauled out of the river?"
"The last I heard of him, he was still under the care of Doctor Havens."
"Don't you think we ought to call on him? He might want to see us."
"If he wanted that, Sam, wouldn't he send us word? Perhaps, if he is any relation to Jesse Pelter, he would rather we would keep away from him."
On the following morning a letter came addressed to Tom, and bearing the Ashton postmark. On opening the communication, he was much interested to read the following:
Dear Mr. Rover:"I want to thank you and your brother for what you did for me. I shall never forget it. Even were I in a position to do so, I would not insult you by offering you any reward. You, perhaps, have learned my name, and maybe you are wondering if I am related to Mr. Pelter of Pelter, Japson & Company, of New York City. Mr. Pelter is my uncle, and for a number of years I made my home with him. I do not altogether like his way of doing business, and do not uphold him in his dealings with your family. But he is my uncle, and on several occasions he has assisted me very materially. For that reason, I think it is best that we do not meet."Again thanking you, I remain"Yours truly,"Barton Pelter."
"I want to thank you and your brother for what you did for me. I shall never forget it. Even were I in a position to do so, I would not insult you by offering you any reward. You, perhaps, have learned my name, and maybe you are wondering if I am related to Mr. Pelter of Pelter, Japson & Company, of New York City. Mr. Pelter is my uncle, and for a number of years I made my home with him. I do not altogether like his way of doing business, and do not uphold him in his dealings with your family. But he is my uncle, and on several occasions he has assisted me very materially. For that reason, I think it is best that we do not meet.
"Again thanking you, I remain
"Yours truly,
"Barton Pelter."
"I guess that explains it," said Sam, after he, too, had read the communication. "He didn't want to face us because of his relationship to Jesse Pelter."
"I am glad that he doesn't uphold Jesse Pelter in his actions, Sam."
"More than likely he would be glad to come and see us in order to thank us in person for what we did for him if it were not for his uncle, and the fact that his uncle has aided him. You know the old saying, 'You can't bite the hand that feeds you.'"
"I wonder if he is still in Ashton?"
"We might telephone to the hotel and find out."
Later on this was done, and the boys were informed over the wire that Barton Pelter had left early that morning, taking his automobile with him.
"Well, only one week more of the grind," remarked Sam one morning on arising. "Aren't you glad that the closing day is so near?"
"I think I would feel a little better if I knew how I was coming out with my examinations," returned his brother.
"But, Tom, it won't make any difference to you, if you are not coming back."
"That may be, but, just the same, I would like to get as much credit as possible while I am here."
Some of the examinations had already been held, and others were to come off within the next few days. As a consequence, the majority of the students were exceedingly busy, so that there was little time for recreation.
Since the Rovers had come to Brill, the college had been endowed with the money to build an observatory. This structure had now been completed, and the boys took great delight in visiting it and looking through the telescope which it contained. It stood on the highest hill of the grounds, so that from the top, quite a view of the surrounding country could be had.
"I am going to the observatory," said Songbird, that evening. "There is going to be some kind of a transit, and I want to see it. Either of you fellows want to come along?"
"I can't,—I've got a paper to finish up," returned Sam, who was busy at his writing table.
"I'll go. I need a little fresh air," said Tom, and reached for his cap.
At the observatory the boys found one of the professors and about a dozen students assembled. The professor was delivering something of a lecture, to which the boys listened with interest, at the same time taking turns looking through the big telescope.
"It's a wonderful sight," murmured Tom, after he had had his look. Then, followed by Songbird, he walked to a little side window which, with several others, faced in the direction of Hope Seminary.
"I suppose you would rather be at Hope than here," remarked Songbird, dryly.
"And you would rather be at the Sanderson cottage than anywhere else in the world," retorted Tom.
"It's too bad, Tom, that you are not coming back next Fall," went on Songbird, seriously. "I don't know how we are going to get along without you."
"It can't be helped. I've got to help Dick. Father is too broken down to attend to business, and I don't think it is the fair thing to put it all off on Dick's shoulders."
"Oh, I understand. But Sam will come back, won't he?"
"I think so. One of us, at least, ought to finish the course here. Dick and I are cut out for business, but I think Sam ought to go into one of the professions."
"I wish I knew what I would like to do, Tom," continued Songbird, wistfully.
"Oh, some day you will be a celebrated poet."
"I think I have got to do something more substantial than write poetry."
"Well, it all depends on the brand of poetry, Songbird." And Tom began to grin. "There are some fellows who make big money at it."
"I'd like to know who they are?" questioned the would-be poet, eagerly.
"The fellows who write up some new brand of safety razor or breakfast food."
"Tom!" And Songbird looked positively hurt. "How can you be so cruel and degrade poetry so?"
"Well, they do it, I don't. Now, if you——" Tom brought his words to a sudden stop, and commenced to stare out of the window. Far over the distant wood he had seen a strange light. Now it was increasing rapidly.
"What is it? What do you see?" demanded Songbird, as he realized that something unusual had attracted his chum's attention.
"Look there!" cried Tom, pointing with his finger. "Doesn't that look like a fire?"
"It surely does," replied the other, after a hasty inspection. "But it may be only some brush heap that a farmer is getting rid of."
"I don't know about that. Say, haven't they got a pair of field glasses here?"
"Sure!" and Songbird turned to get the article mentioned.
As rapidly as possible, Tom focused the glasses on the distant light, and took a careful look.
"Great Scott! it's a fire—and at Hope Seminary!" broke out the youth. "It looks to me as if the whole place might burn down!"
"What! A fire at Hope!" cried Songbird, and his words attracted the attention of all the others in the observatory. He, too, took a look through the glasses, and one after another the remaining students did the same.
"It certainly is a fire, and at the seminary, isn't it, Tom?"
Tom did not answer. He had already started to leave the building. Straight down the hill he tore, and then up to the building where he and the others had their rooms. He burst in on his brother like a cyclone.
"Sam, come on, quick! There is a fire at the seminary!"
The younger Rover, who was deep in his writing, looked up, startled.
"What is that you said, Tom?"
"I said, hurry up; come along; there is a fire at the seminary! The girls may be in danger! Come on, let us go there in the auto."
"Oh, Tom, are you sure of this?" And now Sam leaped up, brushing his writing to one side.
"Yes, I saw the fire from the observatory." And in as few words as possible, Tom gave his brother the particulars. He was already donning his automobile outfit. Sam followed suit, and both boys ran downstairs and to the garage.
By the time they had the touring car ready, Songbird, Stanley, Spud, and several others had joined them. The word had been passed around that there was a fire at Hope, and permission to go to the conflagration was readily granted by the college management.
"All aboard who are going!" sang out Tom, who was at the wheel, with Sam beside him. Then, after several collegians had climbed into the tonneau, away the touring car dashed over the road leading to Hope.
It was a wild ride, never to be forgotten. Tom had all the lights turned up fully, so that he might see everything that was ahead. From twenty miles per hour the speed climbed up to twenty-five, then thirty, then thirty-five, and finally forty. Over the newly-mended bridge they dashed at breakneck speed.
"Be on your guard, Tom," warned Sam.
"We've got to get there," was the grim response. "The girls may be in danger."
"Right you are! Let her go for all she is worth!"
They had been making many turns and going up-hill and down, but now came a straight stretch of several miles, and here Tom put on all the extra power the touring car could command. From forty miles an hour, they reached forty-five, and then fifty, and, at one point, the speedometer registered fifty-four.
"My gracious, Tom, don't kill us!" yelled Bob, to make himself heard above the roar of the motor, for Tom had the muffler cutout wide open.
The youth at the wheel did not answer. He was giving all his attention to the running of the car, and this was needed. Along the roadway they sped like an arrow from a bow, past trees and fences, with here and there a farmhouse or a barn. Once Tom saw a white spot in the road ahead, and threw off the power. But it was only a flying newspaper, and on he went as speedily as before.
"It's at Hope, all right!" yelled Stanley, when they slowed down at a turn of the road.
"Yes, but I don't think it is any of the main buildings," returned another student.
"I hope not," came from Sam.
There was one more small rise to climb, and then they came into full view of what was ahead. Through the trees they saw that one of the large barns, in which the fire had evidently started, was almost totally consumed. The slight wind that was blowing had carried the sparks to one of the wings of the main building, and this was now in flames at several points.
"Here comes the fire engine!" cried Bob, as the touring car swept through the seminary grounds; and he pointed down the opposite road. Along this a small engine from a nearby town was approaching, hauled by a score of men and boys. Far down another road could be heard the tooting of another engine, probably from some other town.
"We might give some of those fellows help," suggested Songbird. "What's the matter with running the car down to where they are, and hitching fast?"
"You can do it, Songbird, if you wish," returned Tom, hurriedly. "I'll join you just as soon as I find out if the girls are safe."
"And I'll go with Tom," put in Sam.
"Oh, they must be safe; the fire isn't in that part of the building," broke in Stanley. "But go ahead, you fellows, we'll take care of the machine." For he well understood how anxious the Rovers must be regarding the Laning girls.
Leaping from the touring car, Sam and Tom joined the crowd in the vicinity of the fire, composed mostly of girl students and their teachers. About a score of men and boys living in the vicinity had come up, and these, with the hired help from the institution, were doing all in their power, to subdue the flames.
"Did all of the girls get out?" asked Tom, of the first teacher he met.
"I don't know—I think so," was the answer.
The boys pushed their way along from one group of students to another, trying to catch sight of those whom they were seeking. In the meantime, Songbird and the others from Brill had taken charge of the touring car, and run it down a side road, where they hooked fast to one of the arriving fire engines, much to the relief of those who had been dragging the machine over the somewhat rough highway, and were almost exhausted.
"Oh, Sam!" The cry came from Grace, and the next instant the girl rushed up and fairly threw herself into the arms of the youngest Rover.
"Where is Nellie?" he demanded, quickly. "Is she safe?"
"Here I am!" was the call, and then Nellie came up and caught Tom by the shoulder. "Oh, isn't this dreadful!"
"It sure is, Nellie," returned Tom, as he slipped his arm around her waist. "But I am mighty glad that you are safe. Do you think everybody is out?"
"We don't know, but they ought to be out, for we had plenty of warning. The fire started in the barn, you know."
"What caused it?"
"They think one of the men must have been smoking and dropped a light in the hay. Anyway, the fire started there."
"The other fellows took the auto to help the fire engine," broke in Sam. "Here they come now," he added, as the machine came up with honking horn, and dragging one of the fire engines behind it.
"I wish we could do something to put out this blaze," came from Tom. "Sam, we must get busy."
"Right you are!"
"Oh, do be careful, both of you!" pleaded Nellie.
"Yes, don't get burnt," added Grace.
"We'll look out, don't you fear," answered Sam, and then he and Tom turned to join those at the fire engines and the hose carts.
The seminary was provided with several water towers, and from these some lines of hose had already been run to the fire. Now some additional lines of hose were laid from the fire engines, which began to take water from two cisterns. Soon the added streams showed their effect on the flames.
"Girls! girls! have any of you see Miss Harrow?" The cry came from one of the teachers, as she made her way through the crowd.
"Why, isn't she out?" asked a number.
"I don't know, I can't find her anywhere," replied the instructor.
"Was she in the building?"
"I think so. She said at supper time that she had a toothache, and was going to retire early." And thus speaking, the teacher hurried on.
"Is that the Miss Harrow who lost that four-hundred-dollar diamond ring?" asked Tom.
"Yes," replied Nellie.
"Was her room in that addition?" questioned Sam, quickly, pointing to an end of the building which was on fire in several places.
"Yes, she has the corner window, right over there," responded Grace, pointing to a spot close to where the building was in flames.
The words had scarcely left the lips of the girl, when, to the horror of those standing below, a third story window was suddenly thrown up, and the head of a woman appeared.
"Help! Help! Save me!" The cry came wildly from the woman, who was plainly terror-stricken.
"It's Miss Harrow!" cried a score of voices.
"Look! Look! The fire is on both sides of her!"
"Don't jump! Don't jump!" yelled Tom, at the top of his lungs, and he saw the teacher prepare to cast herself to the ground.
"Can't you come down by the stairs?" called out Sam, as loudly as he could.
"I'm afraid to open the door! The hall is full of smoke and fire!" screamed the teacher. "Save me! Save me!"
"Haven't they got a ladder handy?" asked Tom.
"Sure, we've got a ladder—half a dozen of 'em," responded one of the men who worked around the place.