The Rover Boys Megapack Page 16

  But the players from the rival academy had a fine battery, and it was impossible to “get onto” their pitcher’s curves during that first innings. The players went out in one, two, three order, leaving the score 0 to 0.

  “It’s going to be a close game,” said an old player from, Cedarville. “I’m not betting on either side.”

  The second innings passed without any scoring being done. In the third innings the Pornell team made two runs. In the next innings Putnam Hall pulled a single run “out of the fire,” as Dick put it, for it was his tally, made on a slide halfway from third base.

  After this there were more “goose eggs,” until the end of the eighth inning when the score became a tie, 2 to 2.

  One more inning for each side, and the excitement became intense.

  “We must prevent them from scoring, by all means,” said Frank as they took the field, while the first batter of the Pornellites came to the plate; and amid a breathless silence the final innings began.

  CHAPTER XXVII

  OFF FOR THE SUMMER ENCAMPMEMT

  The present situation was enough to make any pitcher nervous, and it must be confessed that Tom could scarcely control himself. “A wild pitch, and it’s all up with our side,” he thought, as he took his place in the “box.”

  “One ball!” That was the verdict as the sphere landed in Frank’s hands. “Two balls!” came immediately after.

  Frank paused, then rolled the ball to Tom. “Do be careful,” whispered Dick. “Take your time.”

  “Perhaps we had better put Larry in the box,” suggested another player, but Tom shook his head determinedly. “I’ll stick it out!”

  “One strike!” The batter had tried, but failed to hit the sphere. Tom felt more hopeful, but immediately after came three balls and then four balls, and amid a cheer from his friends the Pornell player walked to first base.

  The second man at the bat went out on a foul, and the cadets cheered this time. Then came a strong hit to left field, and in came one run.

  “Hurrah! 3 to 2 in Pornell’s favor!”

  “You’ve got ‘em on the run now, boys; keep it up!”

  Two balls, and the next batter knocked a hot liner to Fred. It came along like lightning, but Fred wore a “do-or-die” look and made a dive for it—and held on, although his hands stung as if scorched with fire.

  “Hurrah! Two out! Now for the third, and then knock out that lead of one run!”

  Alas! This was easier said than done. The next player gained first, and so did the youth to follow. Then came a heavy hit, and the score went up to 5 to 2. But that was the last of it, so far as Pornell was concerned.

  “Now, Putnam Hall, see what you can do!”

  Larry was at the bat, and cautious about striking. “One strike!” called the umpire, as the boy let a good ball go by. Another real strike followed, and then Larry caught the sphere fairly and squarely, drove it far into left field, and made a home run.

  “A homer! Wasn’t that great!”

  “That makes the score 5 to 3. Keep it up, Putnam Hall!”

  The home run was very encouraging, and now Dick came forward with his ashen stick. He had one strike called on him and then managed to make a clean one-base hit.

  Another player, named Forwell, took stand next. The pitcher for the Pornell team was now as nervous as Tom had been and suddenly Forwell was hit in the arm by the ball.

  “Dead ball!” cried the umpire. “Take your base,” and Forwell went to first, while Larry marched to second.

  Then Sam came to the bat, but his first strike was a foul, caught by the third baseman. Another out followed, made by the captain, much to his chagrin. The score now stood 5 to 3, with two players on base and two out. One more out and the match would come to an end, unless the score was a tie.

  “Tom Rover to the bat!” called the score-keeper, and Tom marched to the plate. A strike and two balls, and he made as clean a one-base hit as had his elder brother.

  “Three on base and two out!” came the cry.

  “Now, Pornell, be careful!”

  Fred Garrison was the next of the team to come forward. All eyes were centered upon Fred. “Be careful, oh, be careful!” pleaded Frank. “Don’t get out as I did!”

  “One strike!” cried the umpire as the ball whizzed over the plate. “Ball one!” came a moment later. “Strike two!” was immediately added.

  Bang! the ball had come on again, and Fred had hit it with all of the force at his command. It shot past second base and toward centerfield. “Run! run!” yelled Frank, and the crowd joined in, as Dick started for home, followed by Forwell and Tom. The center fielder fumbled the ball, and the four runners came in one right on top of the other.

  “Putnam Hall has won!”

  “Say, but wasn’t that a great game?”

  “Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!” came from the cadets and their friends.

  It was a great time for the boys. They gave three cheers for their opponents, but the Pornellites felt their second defeat too keenly, and as quickly as they could they left the grounds, and quarter of an hour later were on their way home.

  After this contest matters moved along quietly until June. In the meantime the cadets studied up with all diligence for the examinations soon to take place. All of our friends passed creditably, Dick standing second in his class, Tom fourth and Sam third in their classes. Captain Putnam and George Strong heartily approved of the showing made.

  “That Tom Rover is full of fun,” was the captain’s comment, “but he knows how to study as well as how to play jokes.”

  Mumps was almost at the foot of his class. The sneak had hardly any friends left, and he announced that he was going to leave Putnam Hall never to return—for which no one was particularly sorry.

  Immediately after the examinations it was announced that the entire school would march to a place called Brierroot Grove, where they would go into their annual encampment for two weeks. At once all of the cadets were in a bustle, and soon uniforms were brushed up, buckles and buttons polished, knapsacks packed, and rifles oiled and cleaned.

  “Makes a fellow feel as if he was going off to the war!” observed Sam. “I don’t know but what I would like to be a soldier some day.”

  The battalion marched away one Monday morning, with flags flying, drums beating loudly, and the fifers blowing away upon “Yankee Doodle” with all of their might. The route was the lake road, and many of the farmhouses passed were decorated in honor of the departure. As they passed the Stanhope homestead, Dora and Mrs. Stanhope came forth and waved their handkerchiefs, and Dick, as second lieutenant of Company A, could not resist the temptation to wave his sword at them.

  The camping-out spot was reached that afternoon at five o’clock. The provision wagon and that loaded with the tents had already come up, and soon the cadets were putting up their tents, while the cooking detail was preparing supper. The evening meal consisted of nothing but bread, coffee, and beef stew, but never did plain fare taste better, with such pure mountain air for sauce.

  “It’s just boss!” said Tom on the second day in camp. “Living in a tent suits me to death.”

  The next day, however, he changed his tune, for it rained in torrents, and everybody got soaked to the skin.

  “Ugh!” said Tom. “I wasn’t thinking of this when I said it suited me to death.” All made the best of it, and luckily the storm did not last over twenty-four hours, when the sun came out warmly, and that was the last of the rain while the encampment lasted.

  A week had passed by when one afternoon Dick, Tom, and Sam received permission to visit the town of Rootville, a mile away. They were not to be gone not over three hours, and were to purchase some medicine needed by several cadets who had taken cold during the damp spell.

  The boys walked to Rootville in high spirits, and readily procured the drugs desired, then they w
andered around from place to place, taking in the sights.

  There was a depot, and as natural they drifted thither, and into the waiting room. Here almost the first persons they saw was Arnold Baxter and Buddy the tramp thief.

  “Gracious!” burst from Dick’s lips, and then he pulled Tom and Sam back. “Here is a chance at last to arrest that thief!”

  “That’s so!” cried Tom. “Wait, I saw a policeman outside. I’ll call him,” and he darted off. While Dick and Sam awaited Tom’s reappearance, they noticed that Baxter and Buddy were holding a conversation of great interest.

  “I will pay you well if you will help me in this deal,” Arnold Baxter was saying.

  “I’ll do all I can,” answered Buddy Girk. “But what of your son Dan?”

  “Dan is not to be depended upon,” answered Arnold Baxter. “He robbed me of two hundred dollars and skipped out for Chicago.”

  “Humph!” murmured Dick. “Here is certainly news of Dan Baxter that is very much to his discredit. I hope I and Dora and the rest never hear of him again.”

  Some other folks now came into the depot, and Arnold Baxter and Buddy lowered their voices, so that Dick and Sam could hear nothing further.

  Soon Tom arrived, followed by the policeman, who looked anxiously at the two men.

  “You say they are thieves?” he asked of Dick.

  “The short man is. He stole my watch.”

  “What of the other?”

  “He is a bad man too—although it may be hard to prove it.”

  At once the crowd approached the evil pair, and the officer caught Buddy Girk by the arm, “I want you,” he said in a low, firm voice.

  The thief turned swiftly, and as he saw himself confronted by Dick and the officer of the law his face fell.

  “I ain’t done nothing’!” he cried, and tried to break away, but the officer at once overpowered him and brought forth a pair of handcuffs.

  “You’ll put these on,” he said grimly, and spite his protestations Buddy Girk was handcuffed.

  “Hold on!” cried Dick, as Arnold Baxter started to run. He made a clutch for the man, but Baxter was too quick for him and slipped through the crowd and out of the depot. Instantly Dick made after him.

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  THE RECOVERY OF THE WATCH—CONCLUSION

  Arnold Baxter hesitated but a moment on gaining the depot platform. A freight train was passing the station at a slow rate of speed, and, running to an empty car which stood wide open, he leaped on board.

  Dick was close behind him, and as the man boarded the freight car caught him by the leg. As Dick held on like a bulldog there was nothing left for Arnold Baxter to do but to drag the youth up behind him.

  “You imp!” he snarled, as the two faced each other on the car floor. “What do you mean by following me in this fashion?”

  “And what do you mean by running away in this fashion?” panted Dick.

  “I have a right to do as I please.”

  “And so have!”

  “You have no right to follow me.”

  “That remains to be seen, Arnold Baxter. I would like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Would you, indeed?” sneered the tall man.

  “Yes. I won’t waste words. Were you and my father enemies years ago?”

  At this direct question Arnold Baxter scowled darkly. “Yes, if you are anxious to know,” he muttered.

  “I fancied as much. You tried to swindle him out of some Western mining property.”

  “The boot was on the other leg—he tried to swindle me—ran off to Africa with my papers, I think, or else left them somewhere where I can’t find them.”

  “I do not believe you, for my father was an honest man, while you are the boon companion of a thief.”

  “Have a care, boy—I won’t stand everything!” snarled Arnold Baxter, his eyes gleaning like those of an angry cat.

  “I am not afraid of you, Arnold Baxter. I shall hand you over to the police at our next stopping place!”

  “Will you!” hissed the man, and leaped at Dick, bearing him down to the car floor. At once his hand sought the lad’s throat.

  “I’ve a good mind to choke the life out of you,” he went on. “I hate you all—everyone who bears the name of Rover!”

  “Le—let up!” gasped Dick, growing purple in the face, while his eyes bulged from their sockets.

  “I’ll pitch you off!” was Arnold Baxter’s answer, and suddenly he lifted Dick up in his strong arms and stepped to the open doorway. They were passing over a trestle spanning a wide gully, at the bottom of which were bushes, rocks, and a tiny mountain stream.

  “Don’t!” cried Dick, and snatched at the handle of the car door. He had just clutched it, when Arnold Baxter launched forth his body into space.

  The next instant, and while Baxter stood by the edge of the door, the long train swung around a sharp curve. There was a quick jerk, and with a yell of fright which sounded in Dick’s ears for days afterward, Arnold Baxter slipped through the doorway and went tumbling head foremost down into the gully!

  Dick shut his eyes at the sight and clung fast mechanically. Then, as soon as he could recover, he swung himself into the car. He could not stand, and sank like a lump of lead to the car floor unconscious.

  When he recovered, several train hands surrounded him, and his face was wet from the water they had poured over him. It was fully an hour before he could tell his story, and then a hand-car was sent back to the spot where Arnold Baxter had had his terrible fall.

  The rascal was found at the foot of the gully, a leg and several ribs broken and otherwise bruised. He was carried to the hand-car like one dead, and later on transferred to a hospital at Ithaca. Here it was announced that he might possibly recover, although this was exceedingly doubtful.

  “He’s a bad one,” said Tom, when he heard Dick’s story. “I would like to know what Buddy Girk has to say about him.”

  Buddy had been taken to the Rootville jail and searched, and a pawn-ticket for the stolen watch found in his vest pocket. The ticket was on a Middletown pawnbroker, and showed that fifteen dollars had been loaned on the timepiece. Buddy had more than this amount in his pocket, and some time later the money was forwarded to the pawnbroker, and then the precious watch and chain came back to Dick, in as good a condition as ever.

  “I haven’t got nuthin’ to say,” said Buddy, when Dick tried to make him talk. “I didn’t steal the watch, and I didn’t do nothin’.”

  “You won’t tell me anything about Arnold Baxter?” questioned Dick.

  “Ain’t got nuthin’ to say,” repeated Buddy, who was planning to escape from jail that very night.

  And escape he did, through a window the bars of which were bent and broken. The authorities searched for him for nearly a week, but the search proved unavailing.

  “I don’t care particularly,” said Dick, in commenting on the affair. “I have my watch back and that’s the main thing.”

  “But Buddy ought to be punished. Now if it was Arnold Baxter who had gotten away—after that terrible fall—I wouldn’t say a word,” answered Tom.

  The encampment came to an end in a blaze of glory on the Forth of July, with firecrackers and fireworks galore. The cadets “cut up like wild Indians” until after midnight, and Captain Putnam gave them a free rein. “Independence Day comes but once a year,” he said. “And I would not give much for the boy who is not patriotic.”

  “You are right there, captain,” returned George Strong. “Our boys are true blue, every one of them.”

  Out on the parade ground the cadets were singing loudly and marching at the same time. Everyone was in the best of high spirits, and it was a time never to be forgotten.

  Here I must bring to a close, for the present, the story of the Rover Boys’ doings at Putnam Hall and elsewhere. We have see
n how Dick was robbed of his watch and how he recovered the timepiece; how the boys joined the other cadets, and what friends and enemies they made; and we have likewise entered into many a sport and contest with them.

  With the termination of the encampment the school term came to an end, and the Rover boys returned to their home with their uncle and aunt. But more adventures were in store for them, and these will be related in another volume, to be entitled “The Rover Boys on the Ocean; or, a Chase for Fortune.” In this volume we will meet all of our old friends, and also learn more concerning Josiah Crabtree and his little plot to marry Mrs. Stanhope and obtain the money the lady was holding in trust for Dora. We shall likewise meet Dan Baxter and his toady Mumps, and learn much concerning a thrilling chase on the ocean and its happy results.

  But for the present all went well. The boys arrived at the homestead two days after the Fourth and were met at the door by their Uncle Randolph and Aunt Martha.

  “Welcome home, all of you!” cried Randolph Rover. And as their aunt kissed them, he continued, “And what do you think of your school?”

  “What do we think?” repeated Tom.

  “Why, we think Putnam Hall is the best boys school on earth!”

  And Dick and Sam agreed with him.

  THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN

  CHAPTER I

  SOMETHING ABOUT THE ROVER BOYS

  “Luff up a little, Sam, or the Spray will run on the rocks.”

  “All right, Dick. I haven’t got sailing down quite as fine as you yet. How far do you suppose we are from Albany?”

  “Not over eight or nine miles. If this wind holds out we’ll make that city by six o’clock. I’ll tell you what, sailing on the Hudson suits me first-rate.”

  “And it suits me, too,” put in Tom Rover, addressing both of his brothers. “I like it ten times better than staying on Uncle Randolph’s farm.”

  “But I can’t say that I like it better than life at Putnam Hall,” smiled Sam Rover, as he threw over the tiller of the little yacht. “I’m quite anxious to meet Captain Putnam and Fred, Frank, and Larry again.”