[Illustration: As Dave clucked again, Hero shot ahead.--Page 121.]
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Dave Porter Series
DAVE PORTER AT STAR RANCH
OR
THE COWBOY'S SECRET
BY
EDWARD STRATEMEYER
Author of "Dave Porter at Oak Hall," "The Gun Club Boys of Lakeport,"
"Old Glory Series," "Colonial Series," "Pan-American Series," etc.
_ILLUSTRATED BY LYLE T. HAMMOND_
BOSTON
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Published, August, 1910
COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
_All rights reserved_
DAVE PORTER AT STAR RANCH
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Norwood Press
BERWICK & SMITH CO.
Norwood, Mass.
U. S. A.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
PREFACE
"Dave Porter at Star Ranch" is a complete tale in itself, but forms the
sixth volume in a line issued under the general title of "Dave Porter
Series."
In the first book of the series, called "Dave Porter at Oak Hall," the
reader was introduced to a typical American lad of to-day, and was
likewise shown the workings of a modern boarding school--a little world
in itself.
There was a cloud over Dave's parentage, and to solve the mystery he
took a long sea voyage, as related in the second volume, called "Dave
Porter in the South Seas." Then he came back to Oak Hall, to help win
several important games, as the readers of "Dave Porter's Return to
School" already know.
So far, although Dave had heard of his father, he had not met his
parent. He resolved to go on a hunt for the one who was so dear to him,
and what that led to was related in "Dave Porter in the Far North."
When Dave returned to America he was sent again to school--to dear old
Oak Hall with its many associations. Here he met many friends and some
enemies, as narrated in "Dave Porter and His Classmates." The lad had no
easy time of it, but did something for the honor of the school that was
a great credit to him.
While at Oak Hall, Dave, through his sister, received an invitation to
spend his coming summer vacation on a ranch in the Far West. He was
privileged to take some friends with him; and how the invitation was
accepted, and what happened, I leave the pages which follow to relate.
It has been an especial pleasure for me to write this book. During the
past summer I covered about seven thousand miles of our great western
country, and I have seen many of the places herein described. I have
also been touched by our warm western hospitality, and have had the
added pleasure of meeting some of my young readers face to face.
Once again I thank the many who have praised my books in the past. I
trust that this volume may prove to their liking, and benefit them.
EDWARD STRATEMEYER.
April 12, 1910.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Dave and His Chums 1
II. A Stray Shot 11
III. An Interview of Interest 21
IV. Caught in the Act 31
V. At Niagara Falls 41
VI. Nat Poole's Little Game 51
VII. In Which Dave is Robbed 61
VIII. The Youth in the Balcony 71
IX. Only a Street Waif 81
X. Off for the Boundless West 91
XI. The Arrival at Star Ranch 101
XII. A Race on Horseback 112
XIII. The Crazy Steer 122
XIV. A Face Puzzles Dave 132
XV. Among the Cowboys 142
XVI. A Meeting on the Trail 152
XVII. In Which Some Horses Are Stolen 162
XVIII. Out in the Wind and Rain 172
XIX. A Fruitless Search 182
XX. Fishing and Hunting 192
XXI. A Wildcat Among the Horses 202
XXII. Cowboy Tricks and "Bronco-Busting" 212
XXIII. Dave on a Bronco 222
XXIV. The Cattle Stampede 232
XXV. The Beginning of the Grand Hunt 242
XXVI. After Deer 253
XXVII. The Mountain Lion 263
XXVIII. Up to the Mountain Top 273
XXIX. Two Elk and a Bear 283
XXX. To the Rescue--Conclusion 292
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
DAVE PORTER AT STAR RANCH
CHAPTER I
DAVE AND HIS CHUMS
"Why, Dave, what are you going to do with that revolver?"
"Phil and Roger and I are going to do some target shooting back of the
barn," answered Dave Porter. "If we are going to try ranch life, we want
to know how to shoot."
"Oh! Well, do be careful!" pleaded Laura Porter, as she glanced
affectionately at her brother. "A revolver is such a dangerous thing!"
"We know how to handle one. Phil has been painting a big door to
represent a black bear, and we are going to see if we can do as well
with a revolver as we did with the rifle."
"Do you expect to shoot bears on the ranch? I didn't see any when I was
out there."
"We don't expect to see them around the house, but there must be plenty
of game in the mountains."
"Oh, I presume that's true. But I shouldn't want to hunt bears--I'd be
afraid," and Laura gave a little shiver.
"Girls weren't meant to be hunters," answered Dave, laughing. "But I
shouldn't consider the outing complete unless I went on at least one big
hunt--and I know Phil and Roger feel the same way about it."
"Hello, Dave!" cried a voice from an open doorway, and a handsome lad
with dark curly hair showed himself. "Coming?"
"Yes, Roger. Where is Phil?"
"Gone to the field with his wooden bear." Roger Morr looked at his
chum's sister. "Want to come along and try your luck?" he questioned. "A
fine box of fudge to the one making the most bull's-eyes--I mean
bear's-eyes."
"No, indeed, I'd be afraid of my life even to touch a revolver,"
answered the girl. "But I'll hunt up Jessie, and maybe we'll come down
after a while to look on."
"Oh, you want to learn to shoot!" cried Roger. "Then, when we get to
Star Ranch, you can dress up in regular cowgirl fashion, and ride a
bronco, and fire off your gun in true western style."
"And have a big bear eat me up, eh?" answered Laura. "No, thank you--I
want to come back East alive. But I'll come down to the field as soon as
I can find Jessie," answered Laura, and walked away.
A long, melodious whistle was floating through the outside air, and Dave
and Roger knew it came from Phil Lawrence. They hurried from the broad
porch to the garden path, and around the corner of the carriage shed.
Here they came upon their chum, carrying on his shoulder an old door
upon which he had painted the upright figure of what was supposed to be
a bear.
"Hurrah for the great animal painter!" cried Dave, as he ran up and took
hold of one end of the door. "Phil, you ought to place this in the
Academy of Design."
"It's superb!" was Roger's dry comment. "Best picture of a kangaroo I
ever saw. Or is it a sheep, Phil?"
"Humph! It's a good deal better than you could have painted," grumbled
the amateur artist.
"Sure it is--best photo of a tiger I ever saw," said Dave, adding to the
fun. "Why, you can almost hear him growl!"
"See here, if you're going to poke fun at me I'll throw the target away.
I put in two hours of hard work, and three cans of paint, and----"
"We won't say another word, Phil," interrupted Roger. "Here, let me take
hold. You've carried it far enough," and he relieved Phil of his burden.
"I wonder where would be the best place to set it?" mused Dave, gazing
across the field.
"Up against the tree over there," answered Phil, pointing. "I had that
spot picked out when I painted it. We'll set it so that it will look as
if his bearship was trying to climb the tree."
"It's rather close to the back road," protested Dave. "We might hit
somebody."
"Oh, hardly anybody uses that road,--so the stableman told me," answered
Roger. "Besides, we can watch out. One always wants to be careful when
shooting, at a target or otherwise."
The three youths soon had the target placed to their satisfaction, and
then began a lively blazing away with the three revolvers that had been
brought along. They aimed for the eyes of the painted creature, and for
other vital spots, and all did fairly well.
"You're the best shot, Dave," announced Roger, during a lull in the
practice, when all had gone to inspect the "damage" done. "You've
plugged him right in the eyes three times and once in the heart. Had he
been a real bear, he'd be as dead as a salt mackerel now."
"Provided he had consented to stand still," answered Dave. "Shooting at
a stationary object is one thing, and at a moving, living creature quite
another."
"I have it!" cried Phil. "Let us get a rope and throw it over one of the
tree limbs. Then we can tie the door to it and swing it to and fro.
We'll try to hit the bear while he's swinging."
"That's the talk!" returned Dave, enthusiastically. "I'll get the rope!"
And he ran off to the barn for it. Little did he dream of what trouble
that swinging target was to make for himself and his chums.
Many of my old readers already know Dave Porter, but for the benefit of
others a brief outline of his past history will not be out of place.
When he was a wee boy he had been found one day wandering along the
railroad tracks outside of the village of Crumville. Nobody knew who he
was or where he came from, and consequently he was put in the local
poorhouse, there to remain until he was nine years old. Then a
broken-down college professor named Caspar Potts, who was doing farming
for his health, took the lad to live with him.
Caspar Potts gave Dave the rudiments of a good education. But he could
not make his farm pay, and soon got into the grasp of Aaron Poole, a
miserly money-lender, who threatened to sell him out.
Things looked exceedingly black for the old man and the boy when
something very unexpected happened, as has been related in detail in the
first volume of this series, called "Dave Porter at Oak Hall." In
Crumville lived a rich manufacturer named Oliver Wadsworth, who had a
beautiful daughter named Jessie, some years younger than Dave. Through
an accident to the gasoline tank of an automobile, Jessie's clothing
took fire, and she might have been burned to death had not Dave rushed
in and extinguished the flames.
Mr. Wadsworth was profuse in his thanks, and so was his wife, and both
made inquiries concerning Dave and Caspar Potts. It was found that the
latter was one of the manufacturer's former college professors, and Mr.
Wadsworth insisted that Professor Potts give up farming and come and
live with him, and bring Dave along. Then he sent Dave to boarding
school, where the lad soon proved his worth, and made close chums of
Roger Morr, the son of a United States senator; Phil Lawrence, the
offspring of a wealthy shipowner, and a number of others.
The cloud concerning his parentage troubled Dave a great deal, and when
he saw what he thought was a chance to clear up the mystery, he took a
long trip from home, as related in "Dave Porter in the South Seas."
After many adventures he found his uncle, Dunston Porter, and learned
much concerning his father, David Breslow Porter, and his sister, Laura,
then traveling in Europe.
Dave was now no longer a "poorhouse nobody," as some of his enemies had
called him, but a well-to-do youth with considerable money coming to
him when he should be of age. While waiting to hear from his parent he
went back to Oak Hall, as related in "Dave Porter's Return to School."
Here he added to his friends; yet some boys were jealous of his
prosperity and did all they could to injure him. But their plots were
exposed, and in sheer fright one of the lads ran away to Europe.
Much to Dave's disappointment, he did not hear from either his father or
his sister. But he did receive word that the bully who had run away from
Oak Hall had seen them, and so he resolved to go on another hunt for his
relatives. As told in "Dave Porter in the Far North," he crossed the
Atlantic with his chum, Roger, and followed his father to the upper part
of Norway. Here at last the lonely lad met his parent face to face, a
meeting as thrilling as it was interesting. He learned that his sister
had returned to the United States, and with some friends named Endicott
had gone to the latter's ranch in the Far West.
Mr. Oliver Wadsworth's mansion was a large one, and by an arrangement
with him it was settled that, for the present, the Porters should make
the place their home. All in a flutter of excitement, Laura came back
from the West, and the meeting between brother and sister was as
affecting as had been that between father and son. The girl brought
with her some news that interested Dave deeply. It was to the effect
that the ranch next to that of the Endicotts was owned by a Mr. Felix
Merwell, the father of Link Merwell, one of Dave's bitterest enemies at
Oak Hall. Link had met Laura out there and gotten her to correspond with
him.
"It's too bad, Laura; I wish you hadn't done it," Dave had said on
learning the news. "It may make trouble, for Merwell is no gentleman."
And trouble it did make, as the readers of "Dave Porter and His
Classmates" know. The trouble went from bad to worse, and not only were
Laura and Dave involved, but also pretty Jessie Wadsworth and several of
Dave's school chums. In the end Dave "took the law in his own hands" by
giving Link Merwell a sound thrashing. Then some of the bully's
wrongdoings reached the ears of the master of the school, and he was
ordered to pack his trunk and leave, and a telegram was sent to his
father in the West, stating that he had been expelled for violating the
school rules. He left in a great rage.
"This is the work of that miserable poorhouse rat, Dave Porter," Link
told some of his cohorts. "Just wait--I'll fix him for it some day, see
if I don't!" Then he wrote a most abusive letter to Dave, but in his
rage he forgot to address it properly, and it never reached the youth.
The term at Oak Hall came to an end in June and then arose the question
of what to do during the vacation. In the meantime letters had been
flying forth between Laura and her warm friend, Belle Endicott, who was
still at Star Ranch, as Mr. Endicott's place was called. It may be said
in passing that Mr. Endicott was a rich railroad president, and the
ranch, while it paid well, was merely a hobby with him, and he and his
family resided upon it only when it suited their fancy to do so.
"The Endicotts want me to come out again," said Laura to Dave. "They
want me to bring you along with some of your chums, and they want me to
bring Jessie, too, if her folks will let her come."
"Oh, that would be jolly!" Dave answered. When he thought of Jessie's
going he blushed to himself, for to him the girl whose life he had once
saved was the nicest miss in the whole world. Dave was by no means
sentimental, but he had a warm, manly regard for Jessie that did him
credit.
More letters passed back and forth, and it was finally arranged that
Laura and Dave should visit Star Ranch during July and August, taking
with them Jessie and Phil and Roger. Dunston Porter was to accompany the
young folk as far west as Helena, near which the Endicotts were to meet
the travelers, and then Dave's uncle was to go on to Spokane on
business, coming back to take the young folks home about six weeks
later.
The thoughts of spending their vacation on a real ranch filled the young
folk with delight. All anticipated a "Jim-dandy" time, as Phil expressed
it.
"We can go out hunting and fishing, and all that," declared the
shipowner's son to his chums. "And maybe we'll bring down a bear or
two." And then he suggested that they get revolvers and perfect
themselves in marksmanship.
"Maybe we'll run into Link Merwell out there," said Roger. "My, but he
was mad when he left Oak Hall! He'd like to chew your head off, Dave!"
"I don't want to see him," answered Dave, soberly. But this wish was not
to be fulfilled. He was to meet Link Merwell in the near future, and
that meeting was to be productive of some decidedly unpleasant results.
CHAPTER II
A STRAY SHOT
Dave soon returned to the field with a rope, and the representation of a
bear was swung from the lower limb of an old apple tree. Then another
smaller line was fastened at one side, so that the "bear" could be swung
to and fro.
"You can do the first shooting," said Dave to his chums. "I'll play
bellman." And he pulled on the side rope, so that the door swung like
the pendulum of a clock.
"Hi! don't swing too fast!" called out Phil. "Sixty seconds to the
minute, remember."
He took his position, and watching his chance, fired.
"How's that?" he asked, after the report had died away.
"Hit his bearship in the left ear," announced Dave.
"Humph! I aimed for his right eye!"
The senator's son now tried his luck and managed to hit the
representation of a bear in the tail. This made all the lads laugh, and
Roger and Phil called on Dave to show his skill.
"I don't think this revolver works very well," said the senator's son,
handing the weapon to Dave. "The trigger seems to catch in some way."
"Oh, don't blame the pistol for your poor shooting, Roger!" cried Phil,
good-naturedly.
"Well, examine the pistol for yourself, Phil."
Dave took the weapon and snapped the trigger. There was no report, and
he tried again, aiming at some brushwood not far from the apple tree.
The brushwood was close to the back road.
"It's all right now, I guess," he said, as the pistol went off with
ease. "But that trigger ought to be looked after," he added. "You
wouldn't want it to miss fire at a critical moment."
He stepped forward and, while Roger swung the representation of a bear,
he fired another shot.
"Good for you!" exclaimed the senator's son in admiration. "You took him
right in the throat, Dave!"
"Hold up there! Stop that! Do you hear me, you young rascals! Do you
want to kill me?"
The call came from the back road, and looking in that direction, the
three boys saw a well-dressed man coming toward them on the run. He was
carrying a whip, and his face was full of sudden passion.
"It's Aaron Poole, Nat's father!" said Dave, as he lowered the pistol in
his hand.
"I say, are you trying to kill me?" cried the miserly money-lender of
Crumville, as he came closer, and he shook his whip at Dave.
"Why, no, Mr. Poole," answered Dave, as calmly as he could. "What makes
you think that?"
"Oh, you needn't play innocent," snarled Aaron Poole. "You just fired a
shot at me! It went through my buggy top." And the money-lender pointed
to the back road, where stood his horse and carriage. "Nice doings, I
must say!"
"Mr. Poole, I didn't fire at you," answered Dave. "I didn't know anybody
was out there on the road,--and I didn't fire in that direction."
"You fired into the bushes, when you tried the pistol," said Roger, in a
low voice.
"Maybe the bullet went through the bushes," suggested the shipowner's
son.
"You fired at me--I heard the shot and saw you with the pistol!" stormed
Aaron Poole. "I've a good mind to have you arrested!"
"Mr. Poole, why should I fire at you?" asked Dave. "I----"
"Oh, you needn't try to smooth it over, you young rascal! I know you!
You are down on me because I made Caspar Potts pay me what was due, and
you are down on my son Nat because he is more popular at Oak Hall than
anybody else."
"Well, to hear that!" whispered Phil. He knew, as well as did the
others, that overbearing Nat Poole had scarcely a friend left at the
school the lads attended. On several occasions Nat had tried to harm
Dave, but each time he had gotten the worst of it.
"I didn't fire at you--didn't know anybody was on the back road,"
protested Dave. "If a bullet went through your buggy top I am sorry for
it, but I am also glad it didn't go through your head." And Dave had to
shudder as he thought of what might have happened. "After this I'll be
more careful when I shoot."
"Oh, don't you try to smooth it over!" snarled Aaron Poole. "I know you
of old, Dave Porter! You are always up to some underhanded tricks. Nat
knows you, too! Maybe you didn't mean to kill me, but you meant to scare
me, and you took a big chance, for I might have been hit. I think I'll
swear out a warrant for your arrest."
"Oh, Mr. Poole, don't do that!" cried Phil, in alarm. "Dave didn't know
anybody was back there. It was purely an accident."
"Humph! Who are you, I'd like to know?"
"I am Phil Lawrence. I go to Oak Hall with Dave. I think we have met
before."
"Oh, yes, I've heard of you--through my son, Nat. You sided with Porter
against my son. Of course you'll stick up for Porter now. I think I'll
go right down to town and get a warrant, and have it served." And the
money-lender made as if to walk away.
"If you have Dave arrested we can testify that it was nothing but an
accident," said Roger.
"Bah! it was no accident--he either meant to hit me or scare me! I'll
have the law on him!" stormed Aaron Poole, and then he hurried away.
Dave followed, wishing to argue the matter, but the money-lender would
not listen, and leaping into his buggy he drove off at a rapid gait in
the direction of Crumville Center.
"Now, I wonder what I had better do?" said Dave, soberly, after the
angry man had departed.
"Do you really think he'll have you arrested?" questioned the senator's
son.
"More than likely."
"But you didn't shoot at him. It was nothing but an accident."
"You can trust Mr. Poole to make out the blackest kind of a case against
me," answered Dave, bitterly. "He has been down on me for years, and you
know how Nat is down on me, too. He'll have me sent to prison, if he
can!"
"We'll stand by you," said Phil. "We know you didn't shoot at him--or at
anybody."
"I think I had better tell my father about this," went on Dave. All his
interest in target-shooting had ended. "He will know what is best to
do."
"We'll leave the target where it is," said Roger. "Then we can explain
just how the thing occurred."
With downcast heart Dave left the field and approached the mansion, and
his chums went with him. Just as they reached the piazza, the door
opened and Laura came out, accompanied by Jessie Wadsworth.
"Oh, are you coming back?" asked Laura. "We were just going to join
you."
"Maybe you've killed the bear!" cried Jessie, with a mischievous twinkle
in her eyes. "I heard that Phil had manufactured one."
"No," answered Dave. "We--that is. I--had some trouble with Mr. Poole."
He turned to his sister. "Where is father?"
"Gone out of town on business. He'll be back this evening."
"And Uncle Dunston?"
"Uncle went with him."
"Oh, that's too bad!" And Dave's face showed more concern than ever.
"What was the trouble about?" asked Jessie, who was quick to see that
Dave was ill at ease.
"Oh, Mr. Poole thought I shot at him--but I didn't," replied Dave, and
then told the story.
"Oh, Dave, do you really think he'll have you locked up!" burst out his
sister, while Jessie's face showed her deep concern.
"I don't know what he'll do," was the slow answer.
"Oh, maybe he won't do anything--after he calms down," said the
shipowner's son. "He'll realize that Dave wouldn't do anything like that
on purpose."
"You don't know Mr. Poole," said Jessie. "Father says he is one of the
most hard-hearted men around here."
"Well, let us hope for the best," said the senator's son. He wanted to
cheer up Laura and Jessie quite as much as Dave.
The boys put the pistols away and then went out in a summerhouse to talk
the affair over.
"If he has me arrested, I suppose that will stop my going out to Star
Ranch," said Dave, gloomily. "Too bad! And just when I was counting on
having the time of my life!"
"Oh, don't take it so to heart, Dave!" cried Phil. "Maybe you'll never
hear of it again."
"He'll hear of it if Mr. Poole tells Nat," said the senator's son. "Nat
will want his father to make all the trouble possible for Dave."
"Where is Nat now? At home?"
"Yes," answered Dave. "I saw him yesterday, down at the post-office."
"Then he'll surely hear about it."
At first Dave thought to tell Caspar Potts about the affair, but then he
realized that the professor was too old to aid him. Besides, the aged
man was not well, and the boy hated to disturb him.
The middle of the afternoon came and went, and nothing was heard from
Aaron Poole. Mrs. Wadsworth went out carriage-riding, taking the girls
with her.
"Let us take a walk," proposed Phil. "No use in hanging around the house
for nothing."
"I don't want Mr. Poole to think I ran away," answered Dave.
Nevertheless, he agreed to go with his chums, and they started off,
leaving word that they would be back in time for dinner, which was
served at the Wadsworth mansion at half-past six.
"I'd like to see that place where you used to live with Professor
Potts," said the senator's son to Dave. "Is it far from here?"
"Quite a distance, but we can easily walk it," was the reply.
They passed out on the country road and were soon tramping along in the
direction of the old Potts place. As they went on they talked over the
proposed trip to the West.
"We ought surely to have the time of our lives," said the shipowner's
son. "Just think of riding like the wind on some of those broncos!"
"Or getting flung heels over head from a bronco's back," added Roger.
"I rather think we'll have to be careful at first."
"One thing I don't like about this trip," said Dave.
"The fact that Link Merwell's father owns the next ranch to the Star?"
"Exactly."
"Oh, ranch homes out there are sometimes miles apart," said Roger. "You
may not see the Merwells at all."
"That will just suit me,--and I know it will suit Laura, too. She is
awfully sorry that she once corresponded with Link."
"Well, she didn't know what he was," answered the senator's son. Ever
since he had met Laura he had been much interested in Dave's sister.
The three chums had covered about half the distance to the old Potts
place when they saw a horse and buggy approaching. As it came closer
they saw that it contained two men.
"It's Mr. Poole!" cried Dave, and then, as he caught sight of the other
man's face, he turned a trifle pale. "Step behind here!" he called to
Phil and Roger, and pulled them back of some handy bushes.
The horse and buggy soon came up to them and passed on, the three boys
keeping out of sight until the turnout was gone. Dave gave a deep sigh.
"I guess Mr. Poole means business," he said.
"What do you mean?" questioned the senator's son.
"I mean he is going to have me locked up."
"Why?" asked Phil.
"That man in the buggy with him was Mr. Mardell, the police justice."
CHAPTER III
AN INTERVIEW OF INTEREST
"Well, I shouldn't go back home until your father and your uncle
return," said the senator's son. "Then, if you are arrested, they'll
know exactly what to do."
"It's too bad it happened!" murmured Dave. "I wish I had gotten off to
the West without seeing Aaron Poole. But I suppose there is no use in
crying over spilt milk. I'll have to face the music, and take what
comes."
The three lads went on, and presently came in sight of the farm where
Caspar Potts and Dave had once resided. The ground was now being
cultivated by the man who had the next farm, and the house was
tenantless.
"I've got the key of the house," said Dave. "If you'd like to take a
look inside I'll unlock the door. But it's a very poor place--a big
contrast to the Wadsworth residence."
"And so you used to work here, Dave?" said Phil, gazing around at the
fields of corn and wheat.
"Yes, I've plowed and worked these fields more than once, Phil. And in
those days, I didn't know what it was to have a nice suit of clothes and
good food. But Professor Potts was kind to me, even if he was a bit
eccentric."
"It was a grand thing that you found your folks--and your fortune," said
Roger.
"Yes, and I am thankful from the bottom of my heart."
The three boys entered the deserted house, and Dave showed the way
around. There was the same little cot on which he had been wont to
stretch his weary limbs after a hard day's work in the fields, and there
were the same simple cooking utensils with which he had prepared many a
meal for himself and the old professor. Conditions certainly had
improved wonderfully, and for the time being Dave forgot his trouble
with Aaron Poole. No one could again call him "a poorhouse nobody."
From the cottage the boys walked to the barn. As they entered this
building they heard earnest talking in the rear.
"You are a mean lad, to tease an old man like me!" they heard, in Caspar
Potts's quavering tones. "Why cannot you go away and leave me alone?"
"Don't you call me mean!" came in Nat Poole's voice. "I'll do what I
please, and you can't stop me!"
"I want you to leave me alone," reiterated the old professor.
"I will--when I am done with you. How do you like that, old man?" And
then Nat Poole gave a brutal laugh.
"Oh! oh! Don't smother me!" spluttered Caspar Potts. "Please leave me
alone! You have ruined my clothes!"
"I wonder what's up?" said Dave to his chums, and ran through the barn
to the rear. There he beheld Caspar Potts in a corner. In front of him
stood Nat Poole, holding a big garden syringe in his hands. The syringe
had been filled with a preparation for spraying peach trees, and the son
of the money-lender had discharged the chalk-like fluid all over the
aged professor.
"Nat Poole, what are you up to!" cried Dave, indignantly, and, leaping
forward, he caught the other youth by the shoulder and whirled him
around. "You let Professor Potts alone!"
"Dave!" cried the professor, and his voice showed his joy. "Oh, I am
glad you came. That young man has been teasing me for over a quarter of
an hour, and he just covered me with that spray for the peach-tree
scale."
"What do you mean by doing such a thing?" demanded Dave. "Give me that
syringe." And he wrenched the article from the other youth's grasp. He
looked so determined that Nat became alarmed and backed away several
feet.
"Don't you--you--er--hit me!" cried the money-lender's son.
"What a mean piece of business," observed Roger, as he came up, followed
by Phil. "Nat, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!"
"Oh, you shut up!" grumbled Nat, not knowing what else to say.
"I always thought you were a first-class coward," put in Phil. "Now I am
sure of it."
"This is none of your affair, Phil Lawrence!"
"I should think it was the affair of any person who wanted to see fair
play," answered the shipowner's son.
"Nat, you take your handkerchief and wipe off Mr. Potts's clothes," said
Dave, sternly.
"Eh?" queried the money-lender's son in dismay.
"You heard what I said. Go and do it, and be quick about it."
"I--er--I don't have to."
"Yes, you do. If you don't----" Dave ended by walking over to a barrel
and filling the syringe with the spraying fluid.
"Hi! don't you douse me with that!" yelled the other youth in alarm.
Then he started to run away, but the senator's son caught him by one arm
and Phil caught him by the other.
"You've got no right to hold me!"
"Well, we'll take the right," said Roger, calmly. "Now, Nat, do as Dave
told you."
There was no help for it, and with very bad grace the money-lender's son
drew from his pocket a silk handkerchief and removed what he could of
the fluid from Caspar Potts's clothing. Many spots remained.
"I am afraid the suit is ruined," said the aged professor, sorrowfully.
"Anyway, it will need a thorough cleaning."
"If it is ruined, Nat can pay for it," said Dave, firmly.
"I'll pay for nothing!" grumbled the boy who had done the mischief. He
was short of spending-money, and knew how hard it was to get an extra
dollar from his parent.
"He certainly ought to pay for it," said Caspar Potts. "Some men would
have him locked up for what he has done."
"Humph! Don't talk foolish! It was only a little fun!" grumbled Nat. "I
didn't mean any harm. You can easily get those spots out of your
clothes."
"Did he do anything else to you?" asked Dave of the professor.
"Yes, he plagued me a good deal, and he shoved me down in the cow-yard,"
was the reply. "I was hoping some one would come to drive him away. I
said I'd have the law on him, but he laughed at me, and said nobody else
was around and his word was as good as mine."
"If that isn't Nat to a T!" murmured the senator's son. "Doing the sneak
act every time!"
"Well, we are witnesses against him," put in Phil. He looked at Dave and
suddenly began to grin. "Oh, but this is great!" he cried.
"What's struck you?" queried Dave.
"Oh, nothing, only I reckon we've got a good hold on Mr. Aaron Poole
now--in case he tries to make a complaint against you."
"To be sure we have!" burst out Roger. "He won't dare to do it--after he
knows what Professor Potts can do."
"What are you talking about?" demanded Nat, curiously. "Is my father
going to make a complaint against Dave? What is it for?"
"Maybe you'll learn later--and maybe you won't," answered the senator's
son. "But if you see your father you had better tell him to call it off
as far as Dave is concerned--if he wants to save you."
"Then you've had trouble, eh?"
"No worse than this--if as bad."
"Humph! In that case my father won't believe what you say about me!"
cried Nat, cunningly. And then of a sudden he leaped back, turned, and
ran around a corner of the barn at top speed. He made for the road, and
was soon hidden from view by trees and bushes. Phil and Roger attempted
to catch him, but Dave called them back.
"No use in doing that," said Dave. "Let him go. It will be time enough
to say more when Mr. Poole makes his complaint."
The three youths assisted Caspar Potts in rearranging his toilet, and in
the meantime the aged professor told the lads the details of his trouble
with Nat. The money-lender's son had certainly acted in a despicable
manner, and he deserved to be punished.
"I will leave the matter to Mr. Wadsworth, and to your father and your
uncle," said Professor Potts to Dave. "They will know better what to do
than I."
On the way back to the Wadsworth mansion the boys told of the pistol
incident and the professor became much interested. He agreed with Phil
and Roger that Nat's doings were much worse.
Dave's father and his uncle had returned, and the youth went straight to
them with his tale. Then Mr. Wadsworth came in and was likewise told.
All the men were also informed of what had happened to Caspar Potts.
"I think I see a way of clearing this matter up--if Mr. Poole attempts
to act against Dave," said Mr. Wadsworth. And then he had a long talk
with Professor Potts.
The folks at the mansion had just finished dinner when visitors were
announced. They proved to be Aaron Poole and an officer of the law,
brought along to arrest Dave.
"I think you had better let me engineer this affair," said Mr.
Wadsworth, and so it was agreed. He entered the reception room and shook
hands formally with Aaron Poole.
"I came to get Dave Porter," said the money-lender, stiffly. "I am going
to have him locked up."
"Mr. Poole, will you kindly step into the library with me?" answered Mr.
Wadsworth.
"What for?"
"I wish to have a little conversation with you."
"It won't do any good. I'm going to have that Porter boy arrested, and
that is all there is to it."
"I wished to see you about your son, Nat. Do you know that he stands in
danger of arrest?"
"Arrest! Nat?" queried the money-lender, and the officer of the law
looked at the rich manufacturer with interest.
"Yes. Come into the library, please."
"Want me?" asked the officer.
"No," returned Mr. Wadsworth, shortly, and the man settled back in his
chair, his face showing his disappointment.
Once in the library the manufacturer shut the door with care. He
motioned his visitor to a chair. But Aaron Poole was too impatient to
sit down.
"Now, what's this about my son, Nat?" growled the money-lender.
"I'll tell you," was Mr. Wadsworth's reply, and he related what had
occurred at the old Potts place.
"You expect me to believe this?" snarled Aaron Poole.
"Believe it or not, it is the truth, and I have the three boys to prove
it, and likewise Professor Potts's ruined suit of clothing. Now,"
continued the manufacturer, "I know all about your charge against Dave.
I'll not say that he wasn't careless, because he was. But he meant no
harm, and it is going too far to have him arrested. It would be much
fairer for Professor Potts to have your son locked up, and make you pay
for the suit of clothing in the bargain. Now, the professor thinks a
great deal of Dave, and he is willing to drop his complaint against Nat
if you'll drop your complaint against Dave."
"Oh, so that's the way the wind blows, eh?" snarled Aaron Poole. "Well,
I won't do it!" he snapped. "I'm going to have Dave Porter arrested!"
"If you do, Professor Potts will have Nat arrested, and we'll push our
case just as hard as you push yours, Mr. Poole."
"Humph! I guess this is a plot to free Dave Porter!"
"You can think what you please. This is the way I look at it: Dave was
careless, and his father can give him a lecture on his carelessness. Nat
was brutal, and it is up to you to take him in hand. If he were my son,
I'd give him a good talking to--and maybe I'd thrash him," added the
rich manufacturer, warmly.
"Oh, you are all down on my son--just as you are down on me!" cried
Aaron Poole. "I'll look into this! I'll--I'll----"
"Don't do anything hasty," advised Mr. Wadsworth. "Better talk the
matter over with Nat."
"I'll do it. But I'll not drop this matter! I'll get after Dave Porter
yet!" cried Aaron Poole, and then he stalked out of the library, and,
motioning for the officer of the law to follow him, he left the
mansion.
CHAPTER IV
CAUGHT IN THE ACT
"I don't think he'll do anything--that is, if he gets the truth out of
Nat," said Mr. Wadsworth, as he rejoined the others. "Of course, if his
son denies the attack on the professor, it may be different."
"If Nat does that, we'll have the testimony of the professor, Phil, and
Roger against him," said Mr. Porter.
It must be admitted that the next day was an uncomfortable one for Dave,
for he did not know at what moment an officer of the law might appear to
arrest him. In the afternoon he and his chums went fishing, but he had
little heart for the sport.
Early on the day following Ben Basswood called to see Dave and the
others. As my old readers know, Ben had been a friend to Dave for many
years, and had gone from Crumville to Oak Hall with him.
"Was coming before, to meet you and Roger and Phil," said Ben. "But I
had to go out of town on business for dad. How are you all? Say, I hear
you are going out West on a ranch. That's great! Going to shoot
buffaloes, I suppose."
"No, hippopotamuses," put in the senator's son, with a grin.
"And June bugs," added Phil.
"You'll sure have the time of your lives! Wish I was going. But I am
booked for the Great Lakes, which isn't bad. Going to take the trip from
Buffalo to Duluth and back, you know. But say, I came over to tell you
something."
"What is it, Ben?" questioned Dave.
"Come on outside."
The boys walked out into the garden and down to the summerhouse, where
they proceeded to make themselves comfortable.
"It's about Nat Poole," continued Ben Basswood. "I guess you had some
kind of a run-in with him, didn't you?"
"Not exactly," answered Roger. "We caught him tormenting Professor Potts
and we put a stop to it."
"Well, you had some trouble with Nat's dad, didn't you?"
"Yes," answered Dave. "Did Nat tell you?" he added quickly.
"No, I know of the whole thing by accident. I had to go to the building
where Mr. Poole has his new office. While I was waiting to see a man
and deliver a message for my dad I overheard some talk between Mr. Poole
and Nat. It was mighty warm, I can tell you!"
"What was said?" demanded Phil.
"Mr. Poole accused Nat of something and Nat, at first, denied it. Then
Mr. Poole said something about arrest, and Professor Potts, and Nat got
scared and begged his father to save him. Then Mr. Poole mentioned Dave
and a pistol and said he couldn't do anything if that's the way matters
stood, and Nat began to beg for dear life, asking his father to let Dave
alone this time. At last Mr. Poole said he would, but the way he
lectured Nat was a caution. He said he wouldn't give Nat a cent more of
spending-money this summer."
"Hurrah, that lets you out, Dave!" cried Roger. "The case against you is
squashed."
"The Pooles will have to let it drop," added the shipowner's son. "And I
am mighty glad of it."
"I hope you are right," said Dave, and his face showed his relief.
They had to tell Ben all about what had happened. Then the latter wanted
to see the bear target, and the crowd ended by doing some more target
practicing. But this time Dave was very careful how he shot, and so were
the others.
It had been decided that the start for the West was to be made early
the following week, and for several days the boys and the girls were
busy getting ready. Laura had traveled a great deal, so the journey
would not be a novelty to her, but with Jessie it was different.
"I know I shall like it, once I am there," said Jessie. "But, oh, it
seems such a distance to go!"
"We'll take good care of you," answered Dunston Porter.
"And I am sure you'll like Mrs. Endicott and Belle," added Laura. "Belle
is as full of fun as a--a--oh, I don't know what."
"Shad is of bones," suggested Dave, who stood by.
"Oh, what a comparison!" cried Jessie, and then giggled in the
regulation girl fashion.
They were to take a local train to Buffalo and change at that city for
Chicago. Ben Basswood decided to go with them as far as Buffalo, so
there would be quite a party. The boys gathered their things together
and were ready to start a full day beforehand. The buying of railroad
tickets and berths in the Pullmans was left entirely to Dunston Porter.
A farewell gathering had been arranged for the young people by Mrs.
Wadsworth, to take place on the afternoon previous to their departure
for the West. About a dozen boys and girls from Crumville and vicinity
were invited. The party was held on the lawn of the Wadsworth estate,
which was trimmed for the occasion with banners, flags, and lanterns. A
small orchestra, located in the summerhouse, furnished the music.
Of course Dave and his chums donned their best for this occasion, and
Laura and Jessie appeared in white dresses that were as pretty as they
could be. Jessie's wavy hair was tied up in new ribbons, and as Dave
looked at her he thought she looked as sweet as might a fairy from
fairyland. He could not help smiling at her, and when she came and
pinned on his coat a buttonhole bouquet he thought he was the happiest
boy in the whole world.
"Oh, but won't we have the grand times when we get out West!" he said to
her.
"I hope so, Dave," she answered. "But----"
"But what, Jessie?" he questioned, as he saw her hesitate.
"I--I can't get that Link Merwell out of my head. I am so sorry his
father's ranch is next to that we are going to visit."
"Oh, don't worry. We'll make Link keep his distance," he returned,
lightly. Yet it must be confessed that he was just a bit worried
himself.
Among the first boys to arrive was Ben Basswood, and he lost no time in
calling Phil and Roger aside.
"I don't want to worry Dave or the others," said Ben. "But I think
somebody ought to be told."
"Told what?" asked the senator's son.
"About Nat Poole. I got the word from a friend of mine, Joe Devine. Joe
was talking with Nat Poole, and he said Nat was very angry at all of us,
and angry because Mrs. Wadsworth was giving us the party, especially as
he wasn't invited. Joe said Nat intimated that he was going to make the
affair turn out a fizzle."
"A fizzle?" queried Phil. "How?"
"Joe didn't know, but he told me, on the quiet, that I ought to watch
out, and ought to warn the others. But I don't like to say anything to
Mrs. Wadsworth, or the girls. You see, it may be only talk, and if it
is, what's the use of getting the ladies excited?"
"It would be just like Nat to play some dirty trick," said the
shipowner's son. "The question is, What will it be?"
"Somebody ought to stand guard," was Roger's advice. "And I think we
ought to tell Dave."
This was readily agreed upon, and Dave was told a few minutes later. His
face at once showed his concern.
"It mustn't be allowed!" he said, earnestly. "I don't care so much on my
own account, but think of Mrs. Wadsworth and the girls! Yes, we must
keep our eyes open, and if anything goes wrong----" He finished with a
grave shake of his head.
"What are you boys plotting about?" asked Laura, as she came up. "Come,
it won't do to stick together like this, with all the girls arriving.
Dave, go and make folks at home,--and you do likewise," she added, with
a smile at Phil and Roger.
The boys dispersed and mingled with the arriving guests. Dave did all he
could to make everybody feel at home, but all the while he was doing it
he kept his eyes wide open.
Presently, chancing to look in the direction of the automobile house,
Dave saw somebody skulking along a hedge. The person was visible only a
second, so the youth could not make out who it was.
"Maybe it's all right, but I'll take a look and make sure," he told
himself, and excused himself to a girl to whom he had been talking. As
he hurried across the lawn he passed Phil.
"Come with me, will you?" he said, in a low voice.
"See anything?" demanded the shipowner's son.
"I saw somebody, but I am not sure who it was."
Taking care not to make his departure noticeable, Dave walked toward
the automobile house and Phil followed him. Soon the pair were behind
some rose bushes and then they gained the shelter of the heavy hedge.
"There he is!" said Dave, in a low voice. "It's Nat Poole, sure enough!"
"What's he doing?" asked Phil.
"Nothing just now. But I guess he is up to something."
Keeping well out of sight behind the hedge, the two boys watched the son
of the money-lender. Nat was sneaking past the automobile house and
making for a washing-shed adjoining the kitchen of the mansion.
"I think I know what he is up to," murmured Dave. "Come on after him,
Phil."
As silently as shadows Dave and Phil followed the money-lender's son to
the shed. Once Nat looked around to see if the coast was clear, and the
followers promptly dropped down behind a lilac bush. Reassured, Nat
entered the shed, and Dave and Phil tiptoed their way up and got behind
the open door.
The hired help were in the kitchen, so the shed was empty. On the floor
stood an ice-cream freezer full of home-made ice-cream, and on a shelf
rested several freshly baked cakes, all covered with chocolate icing,
set out to harden.
"Now I'll fix things," Dave and Phil heard the money-lender's son
mutter. "Salt in the cream and salt in the layer cakes will do the
trick! Some of the boys and girls will think they are poisoned!"
Nat took up a bag of salt that was handy,--used for making the
cream,--and proceeded to open the can in the freezer. Dave watched him
as a cat does a mouse.
Just as Nat was on the point of dumping some of the salt into the
ice-cream he felt himself jerked backwards. The salt dropped to the
floor, and Nat found himself confronting Dave, with Phil but a few steps
away.
"You contemptible rascal!" cried Dave, his eyes flashing.
"Why--I--er----" stammered the money-lender's son. He did not know what
to say.
"Going to spoil the cream, eh?" came from Phil. "It was a mighty dirty
trick, Nat."
"On a level with what you did to Professor Potts," added Dave.
"I--er--I wasn't going to do nothing!" cried Nat, with little regard for
grammar. "I--er--I was looking at the ice-cream, that's all."
"A poor excuse is worse than none," answered Dave, grimly. "You were
going to put salt in the cream and spoil it, you needn't deny it."
"See here, Dave Porter, I want you to understand----"
"Don't talk, Nat, we know all about it," broke in Phil. "You planned to
come here yesterday, and we can prove it. We were on the lookout for
you."
At this assertion the face of the money-lender's son changed. He grew
quite pale.
"I haven't time to waste on you--I want to enjoy this party," said Dave.
"Come along with me."
"Where to?" demanded Nat.
"I'll show you," answered Dave, and caught the money-lender's son by the
arm. "Catch hold of him, Phil, and don't let him escape."
CHAPTER V
AT NIAGARA FALLS
"See here, I want you to let me alone!" stormed Nat Poole, and he tried
to jerk himself free.
"Listen, Nat," said Dave, sternly. "If you make a noise it will be the
worse for you, for it will bring the others here, and then we'll tell
about what you tried to do. Maybe Mrs. Wadsworth will call an officer,
and anyway all the girls and the boys will be down on you. Now, if you
want Phil and me to keep this a secret, you've got to come along with
us."
"Where to?" grumbled Nat, doggedly.
"You'll soon see," returned Dave, briefly, and with a wink at his chum.
Somewhat against his will, Nat walked toward the end of the garden. He
wished to escape from Mrs. Wadsworth and the others, but he was afraid
Dave and Phil contemplated doing something disagreeable to him. Maybe
they would give him a sound thrashing.
"Don't you touch me--don't you dare!" he cried, when the barn was
readied. "Remember, my father can have you locked up, Dave Porter!"
