"He means to fight, Dave!" cried Ben. "We've got to be on our guard."

"Oh, do be careful!" cried Belle. To her this beast of the farm looked
more terrifying than those she had seen on the ranch.

With great caution Dave approached the bull from one side while Ben
approached from the other. The animal snorted again, and lowered his
horns. All the girls began to scream.

"Better be quiet," called out Dave. "You'll only excite him more."

"Oh, be careful!" answered Jessie, in a horrified whisper.

At that moment the bull backed up against one of the automobiles, and
then moved forward again. This action released the tree stump, so that
the beast was now free to go where he pleased. He started straight for
Ben.

"Prod him!" yelled Dave, and Ben promptly did as requested, catching the
bull in the mouth with his stick. Then, as the animal turned aside, Dave
jumped closer, put out his stick, and caught the improvised hook in the
nose ring.

"Good! you've got him!" shouted Phil. "Can we help you any?"

"I don't think so--keep quiet," was the reply.

The bull snorted wildly for a moment, and Dave had all he could do to
keep the animal at the pole's length. But he knew how to twist the ring,
and this speedily brought the beast to terms. The snorting ceased, and
the bull stood still, glaring viciously at his captor, but not daring to
attempt an attack.

"Come, gee haw!" cried Dave, presently; and with caution commenced to
pull on the pole. Slowly the bull stepped after him, dragging the chain
and stump behind him.

"What are you going to do with him?" called out Roger.

"Tangle him up in the bushes--if I can," was the answer, and Dave turned
in the direction of the brushwood lining the watercourse.

At this point there were a good many sharp rocks and twisted roots of
bushes and trees, and it was not long before the loose stump caught on
them.

"Come on, we'll fasten him good and hard!" cried Phil, dashing up behind
the bull, and as quickly as it could be done he and the others piled
some loose rocks against the tree stump, so that it would be next to
impossible for the bull to work it free.

"Now you can let him go, Dave," said Ben, who had stood guard with his
pole. "We've got him as fast as he ever was." And then Dave let loose
from the ring, much to the animal's relief, for he chanced to have a
tender nose, and the twisting of the ring hurt him a good deal.

"Are you sure he won't get away and come for us?" questioned Laura, as
all drew to a safe distance.

"He won't get away very soon," answered Ben. "But we ought to notify his
owner of what we have done."

"Whose bull is it?" asked one of the girls.

"I give up--I never saw him before."

"I think the bull belongs to the Hook Stock Farm," said Dave, mentioning
a farm located about a mile away. "I don't know of anybody else around
here who would own a bull. When we go home we can stop at the farm and
tell them of what has happened."

Leaving the animal quietly grazing among the bushes, the boys and girls
walked over to the automobiles, to learn if any damage had been done. In
his movements the bull had scratched some paint from the wheels and the
mudguards, but that was all, for which they were thankful.

"Well, it's about time to start for home," said Dave, consulting his
watch. "Remember, we are to go the long way around,--and stop at the
Hook place in the bargain."

"I'm ready to go," answered Jessie. The presence of the bull still
disturbed her.

Yet it was some little time before they started, for the things had to
be packed, and several of the boys and girls wanted to get photographs
of the picnic party. Then Dave cranked up, and Roger did the same. All
piled in, and the start for home was begun.

"I'll wager that Nat Poole, Link Merwell, and Nick Jasniff are the
maddest boys in this State," was Phil's comment, as the first car rolled
on, with he and Dave on the front seat.

"I believe you, Phil," answered the driver of the machine. "And if
Jasniff and Merwell really do go to Rockville Academy you can make up
your mind that they will cause us all the trouble possible."

"I don't believe the better class of fellows at the military academy
will take to those chaps."

"Neither do I. But there are some mean boys at that school--you remember
them--and Merwell and Jasniff will flock with that bunch. Oh, they'll
try their best to down us, you see if they don't!" declared Dave.

On the road beyond the picnic ground they came to a spot where some
rocks and logs had been piled up and then taken away again. All gazed at
the spot with interest.

"I guess Pete Barnaby did this--under directions from Nat Poole," said
Ben.

"Yes, and Jed Sully made him, or the Poole crowd, clear it away again,"
answered Dave. "They'll not close this road as long as Sully is
roadmaster."

"Be on your guard, Dave!" sang out Roger. "Those rascals will play some
trick on us, if they can."

"I'm on the watch!" answered Dave.

As they bowled along all kept their eyes on the alert, and it was well
that they did so, for at a turn they suddenly came upon some broken
bottles thrown down just where the machines had to pass. Dave gave a
yell of warning, and turned off the power and applied the brakes just in
time, and, as before, Roger had to turn into the bushes, to avoid
striking the turnout ahead.

"They thought they'd make us cut our tires," said Dave.

"Right you are," answered Phil. "Phew! If we had gone over that glass we
might have had some nasty punctures or blow-outs."

"They ought to be arrested for this!" said Sam, wrathfully. "It's
against the law to put glass on a public highway."

"We can't prove they did it," answered Ben. "If we accused them, of
course they would deny it. But it shows their meanness."

The boys got out and picked up some of the glass, and swept the rest
aside as well as they could. Then the machines were started up once
more, and soon they came in sight of the Hook Stock Farm, and Dave
beckoned to a man who stood near the gateway.

"Have you lost one of your bulls?" he asked.

"We sure have!" answered the man, quickly. "What do you know about him?"

"We know he tried to run off with our autos," returned Dave, with a
grin, and then told the man the story, and described where the animal
could be found. While he was speaking two other stock farm hands came
up. They had been looking for the bull since early morning.

"He's a valuable beast," said one of the men. "I hope he ain't hurt
none."

"He isn't hurt--and we are mighty glad he didn't hurt us," said Phil.

"Oh, he won't hurt nobody--if he's left alone," said the man.

"How can he hurt anybody, if he is left alone?" was Roger's dry query.
But the man was too dull to see the joke.

From the stock farm hands, the boys found out which were the best roads
to take, and then passed on again, up hill and down dale for a distance
of six miles, when they came out on a broad and well-kept highway.

"Good! This is what I like!" cried Dave, and turned on the power until
the touring car was moving along at a lively rate. Roger "hit her up,"
as he called it, also, and before long they had covered an additional
ten miles. Then they had to go over a hill, beyond which lay the village
of Lester.

"Let us stop at Lester for some ice-cream soda," whispered Phil to Dave,
and the latter agreed.

At the foot of the hill there was a turn, and Dave slowed up to make
this, and Roger did likewise. Then, as they passed a deep and muddy
ditch, Dave gave a cry and came to a stop.

"Look there!" he called out, pointing down into the ditch.

All gazed to where he pointed. There, in the water and mud, rested the
racing car belonging to Pete Barnaby. And standing in the mud up to his
knees was the sporty man himself, looking the picture of woeful
despair.




CHAPTER VI

A TALK WITH AARON POOLE


As the boys halted their touring cars and gazed at the racing car and
its owner, they could not help but smile, and Phil laughed outright.

"How did it happen?" asked Dave, in as kindly a tone as he could assume,
for he saw that Pete Barnaby was in serious trouble. The turnout had
landed in a particularly soft spot, and was settling deeper and deeper
every minute.

"None of your business!" growled the sporty man, wrathfully.

"Oh, all right!" returned Dave, coldly. "I thought maybe you would want
us to help you."

"Precious little help I'd get from you chaps!" grumbled Pete Barnaby.

"You might get some if you would act half civil," answered Dave.

"Humph! I suppose you want me to ask you to help me, so that you can
have the pleasure of refusing me, eh?"

"No, if I can aid you I will," answered Dave, promptly.

"He doesn't deserve any help," whispered Phil.

"I know that, Phil," answered Dave. "But I'd hate to leave him in the
lurch. Why, that machine may sink so deep nobody could get it out."

"If you'll haul me out I'll pay you for your trouble," said Pete
Barnaby, gruffly. "It's an easy way to earn ten dollars."

"I don't want your money," replied Dave. "I'll do what I can."

"So will I," added Roger. "The two machines together ought to be able to
do the trick."

"Do you really mean it?" asked the sporty man, and now his voice had a
ring of hope in it.

"Yes," said the senator's son, and Dave nodded.

The boys got out, and from the three cars ropes were produced and tied
together, and the two touring cars were hooked one in front of the
other, and then made fast to the racing car.

"Don't haul too hard at the start," begged Pete Barnaby. "If you do you
may pull my car apart."

"We'll be careful," answered Dave. He turned to his chum. "Remember,
Roger, we've got eighty horse-power hooked up here."

"I'll be on my guard," answered the senator's son. "But remember," he
added to Pete Barnaby, "we are not to be responsible if the hauling
breaks your car."

"I'll run that risk--only go slow," answered the man in trouble.

The rope had been made as long as possible, so that the stalled car
could be drawn out of the ditch lengthwise instead of sidewise. The two
cars in the road started up on low speed, and gradually the rope grew
taut.

"Look out, everybody, in case that rope snaps!" cried Ben. "I once heard
of a rope like that snapping and killing a house-mover."

"You are cheerful, I must say," was Sam's dry comment. Nevertheless, all
were on their guard as the rope grew as tight as a string on a bow.

"She ain't moving yet!" cried Pete Barnaby. He stood by the side of his
machine watching the rope closely.

Hardly had he spoken when there came a slow, sucking sound, as the
wheels left their bed of soft mud. Then the racing machine moved forward
slowly.

"Hurrah! she's coming!" cried Sam. "Put on a little more steam and
you'll have her!"

Dave and Roger turned on more power, and the racing machine continued to
move. Soon it was at the edge of the ditch, and then, with something of
a jerk, it came up on the roadway, leaving a trail of dirty water and
slimy mud behind it.

"Say, you did it all right enough!" cried Pete Barnaby, in delight. "I
was afraid she was too deep down to budge."

"She would have been too deep if you had left her there very much
longer," answered Dave. "Now, if you'll untie those ropes and clean them
off for us, we'll be on our way again."

"Sure, I'll clean them off." And the sporty man set to work with
alacrity. "Say, don't you really want me to pay you for this?" And he
made a move as if to draw a roll of bills from his pocket.

"I don't want a cent," answered Dave.

"It's all right," added Roger; "only, Mr. Barnaby, I'd advise you after
this not to stand in with Nat Poole and his crowd."

"I'm sorry I did, now; honest I am," was the sporty man's answer.
"I--er--I only did it as a favor for Nat, because his father is holding
one of my notes. How did you make out after I went away? I see you must
have got through."

"We did," replied Dave, and then mentioned how Jed Sully had come to
their aid. At this news Pete Barnaby began to grin.

"It was sure a neat way of turning the trick," he said, "and seeing how
you young gentlemen have helped me, I'm glad you did it. You can be sure
I'll never lay a straw in your way again, never!" And then, the ropes
having been put away, the two touring cars proceeded on their way once
more, leaving Pete Barnaby to clean up his machine and put it in running
order again.

"Dave, that was a real nice thing to do!" declared Jessie, and gave him
a bright look.

"He must have felt awfully small, for you to be so generous after the
way he acted," was Laura's comment.

"Maybe it will be a lesson to him, to do what is square in the future,"
said Belle.

They were soon in the town of Lester, and there stopped at the main drug
store, where the boys treated the girls to ice-cream "sundaes," as they
are sometimes called. Then they took a round-about way back to
Crumville, arriving there at sundown.

"Oh, what a nice day we have had, in spite of the drawbacks!" cried
Jessie, dancing into the mansion.

"Drawbacks?" queried her mother. "Did you get a puncture, or a
breakdown?"

"Oh, no; nothing happened to the cars," answered the curly-haired miss.
And then she turned to the boys, to let them tell the story. While they
were doing this, Mr. Wadsworth came in, followed by Dave's father and
his uncle, and Caspar Potts.

"That is just on a par with Aaron Poole's actions in general," said Mr.
Wadsworth. "He would claim the earth, if he dared. I think the other
property owners along that road will have something to say if he tries
to close it up."

"I heard about the new paper company this morning," said Dave's father.
"Some of the stockholders are not in sympathy with the way Mr. Poole is
managing affairs, and they talk of putting him out."

"I hope they do put him out!" cried Dave. "He tries to carry things with
too high a hand altogether."

"I am glad people are finding out what sort of folks the Pooles are,"
said Caspar Potts. He had not forgotten how in the past Aaron Poole had
driven him to the wall, and tried to get his little farm away from him.

After the automobile outing, Phil, Roger, and Sam left Crumville to pay
their folks a brief visit before departing for Oak Hall. This left Dave
and Ben to get ready by themselves, and to take out the girls, which
they did on several occasions. They thought they might meet Nick Jasniff
and Link Merwell, but did not do so, and later on heard that the pair
had departed for Rockville Military Academy. They saw Nat Poole, but he
kept out of speaking distance.

"I wish Nat was going to Rockville, too," said Ben. "He'd never be
missed at Oak Hall."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Ben," returned Dave. "Nat spends considerable
money--although how he gets it from that miserly father of his I don't
know--and that makes him some friends. But I, too, wish he wasn't going
back to our school."

"Do you suppose he'll take the same train we take?"

"Perhaps, although I hope not."

On the day before departing for Oak Hall, Dave and Ben went down to the
railroad station to purchase their tickets. There they saw Nat, with a
new dress-suit case and a new fall overcoat, talking to his father.

"He must be going to take the train this afternoon," said Dave, and he
was right. When the train came in Nat got aboard, along with a number of
other passengers. As he did this, he espied the others, and spoke a few
words to his father in a whisper. Then the train rolled away, and Aaron
Poole strode over to where Dave and Ben were standing.

"See here, young man, I want to talk to you!" cried the money-lender,
gazing sourly at Dave.

"What do you want, Mr. Poole?" asked Dave, as calmly as he could.

"You tried your best to get my son into trouble the other day."

"No, I didn't--Nat got himself into trouble."

"Bah! You needn't try to tell me! I know all about it."

"I don't care to discuss the question," went on Dave, a trifle sharply.

"Nat was to blame--if you don't believe it, ask Mr. Sully, the
roadmaster," put in Ben.

"Don't you try to tell me!" fumed Aaron Poole. "I know both of you boys
only too well! You did your best to get my son and his friends into
trouble. Now, I want to warn you about something. I understand both of
you are going back to Oak Hall. Nat is going there, too, and I give you
fair warning that you must treat him fairly. If you don't I'll come to
the school and have it out with Doctor Clay, understand that?" And the
money-lender shook his long finger into the faces of the boys.

"Mr. Poole, just let me tell you something," answered Dave. "It is
something you ought to know, and I feel it is my duty to tell you, even
though you are not treating us as you should. Come out of the crowd,
please."

"I don't want to listen to your talk."

"Well, you had better,--unless you want a lot of trouble later on."

"What do you want?" And rather unwillingly the money-lender followed
Dave and Ben to a secluded corner of the railroad station.

"I want to warn you about the company Nat is keeping. The two boys he is
going with, Nick Jasniff and Link Merwell, are bad characters. You
don't have to take my word for it--write to Doctor Clay and see what he
says. Nick Jasniff ran away from school and he got hold of some money
that didn't belong to him and used it. Link Merwell got mixed up with
some horse-thieves, on his father's ranch out West, and his father had
to foot the bill to hush the matter up. I feel it my duty to tell you
this, so that you can warn Nat. That's all." And Dave caught Ben by the
arm and started to walk away.

"Humph! So that is your game, eh? Trying to blacken other boys'
characters!" sneered Aaron Poole. "Well, it won't work with me, for I
know you too well, Dave Porter. Don't I know where you came from--the
Crumville poorhouse? I guess I can trust my son to pick out the right
kind of friends. You are jealous of him, because those other boys won't
go with the like of you! Don't talk to me! Only----" And Aaron Poole
raised his forefinger again. "Remember my warning, when you get to Oak
Hall!" And then he strode away, his thin lips tightly drawn, and his
sharp chin held high in the air.

"Well, wouldn't that make you groan!" was Ben's comment, after the man
had disappeared. "Dave, you had your trouble for your pains."

"I don't care, Ben--I just felt I had to tell him. It's a shame to let
Nat cotton to fellows like Jasniff and Merwell. They will drag him down
as sure as fate."

"I believe you there. But if Nat's father won't listen--why, I'd drop
the matter. Besides, you must remember that those fellows are going to
another school, situated quite some distance from Oak Hall. Nat won't
see them, excepting on special occasions."

"He can meet them whenever he goes to Rockville--the town I mean--and
Jasniff and Merwell will get him to drink and smoke, and maybe gamble,
and worse. Nat is easily led at times."

"Yes, I know that." Ben drew a long breath. "Well, let's drop the
subject, Dave. We have our own battles to fight." And then the boys
separated, each to finish the preparations for his departure.




CHAPTER VII

ON THE WAY TO OAK HALL


Swiftly the hours rolled away until it was time for Dave to bid his
family and his friends good-by and leave for Oak Hall. The evening
before his departure he took a walk with Jessie, to the end of the
Wadsworth garden, but what was said between the pair was never known to
anybody but themselves. When they came back he was holding her hand, and
both of them looked as if they understood each other perfectly and were
correspondingly happy.

All of the girls, as well as Dave's father, went to the depot to see him
off, and there they met Ben and some of his folks. Then the train came
in, and the youths climbed on board, dress-suit cases in hand. The girls
waved their handkerchiefs.

"Have a good time!" cried Belle, gayly.

"Take good care of yourself, Dave!" added Jessie.

"Don't forget to write," supplemented Laura.

"We'll do everything you want us to do!" shouted Dave, with a smile,
and then he and Ben waved their caps from the car window as the train
rolled forward, and Crumville was left behind.

"Well, we are off at last," observed Ben, as he and Dave settled back in
the seat for the run to the Junction, where they would have to change
cars for Oakdale, the town nearest to the school. "And I am not sorry,
are you?"

"Not at all, Ben. When it comes time to go to Oak Hall I am always glad
to go and meet the other fellows; when the term is over I am equally
glad to get home and see the folks. It is like the seasons--at the end
of the summer I am glad winter is coming, and at the end of winter I am
just as pleased that summer is at hand."

"It's the change, I suppose." Ben stretched out and drew his knees high
up in front of him. "My, but when you come to look at it, what changes
have taken place at Oak Hall since we first went there! Don't you
remember what a bully Gus Plum used to be, and how Chip Macklin used to
toady to him! Now Plum has reformed completely, and Chip is as manly a
little chap as any of 'em."

"It's a pity that Nat Poole can't take a leaf from Gus's notebook and
reform, too," answered Dave.

"Maybe he will--after he sees the error of his ways. But, Dave, what of
athletics this season? Are you going in for them?"

"I am--but not too strongly, Ben. I want to get all the education I
can."

"Want to get through and leave Oak Hall?"

"I don't want to be a schoolboy all my life. I want to get out in the
world and make something of myself."

"What are you going to become after you leave school?"

"I don't know yet. I was talking it over with father and my uncle, but I
haven't reached any decision."

At the Junction the boys had to wait about half an hour for the train to
Oakdale. Dave suggested that they walk over to a candy store and have
some soda water.

"May meet some of the other fellows there," he added. "The train from
the other way came in quarter of an hour ago, and I saw a lot of
dress-suit cases in the baggage room."

As the two youths entered the candy store a shout went up from three
boys who were drinking soda.

"There are Dave Porter and Ben Basswood!"

"Hello, Dave, old man; how are you?"

"My, look at Ben's new suit! It's almost loud enough to talk!"

"Hello, fellows!" answered Dave, and striding forward he shook hands
with the crowd, one after the other.

"Got any of those mountain lions with you?" queried Joseph Beggs, a
round-faced, fat lad. "Heard you brought down about a dozen while you
were on the ranch."

"Yes, Buster, I've got three in my trunk," answered Dave, gayly. "Want
me to let 'em loose!"

"Heard you did up Link Merwell," said Luke Watson, another lad, who was
well liked because of his singing and playing abilities. "I was glad to
hear it."

"So were all of us," broke in the third boy, a tall, slim youth, Maurice
Hamilton by name. "But speaking of mountain lions puts me in mind of a
story. Once three men----"

"The same old Shadow!" interrupted Dave, grabbing his hand and giving it
a squeeze that made the story-teller of the school wince. "Shadow, I
believe you'd try to spin a yarn when you were proposing to your best
girl."

"That sure would be a yarn," cried Ben, as he, too, shook hands.

"I haven't any best girl and you know it," retorted Shadow. "But I say,"
he continued, closing one eye tightly. "How is Miss Jessie Wadsworth,
Dave?"

"Very well," was the answer, and Dave turned a bit red. "Let us have
something," he added, hastily, to the clerk behind the soda fountain
counter. "What shall it be, Ben?"

"Make it a true love frappГ©," sang out Buster Beggs, with a broad grin.

"But don't forget to put some ginger in it," added Shadow Hamilton.

    "My love, how can I leave thee!
    One parting hug I give thee!
    And now when Oak Hall calls me,
    I go, whate'er befalls me!"

sang Luke Watson, and put up his hands as if playing an imaginary
guitar.

"Say, doesn't anybody want to hear that story about the mountain lions?"
queried Shadow, reproachfully. Story-telling was his hobby, and it had
often been said by his friends that he would rather spin a yarn than
eat.

"Some other time, Shadow," answered Buster. "We want to hear about
Dave's trip West, and about what he did to Link Merwell."

"Before I tell you about that, let me give you a piece of news," said
Dave. And then he related how he and the others had met Merwell and
Jasniff with Nat Poole, and how the two former youths were going to
Rockville Military Academy. As he had anticipated, this created quite a
sensation, and a lively discussion followed, which was kept up even
after the crowd got aboard the train which would carry them to Oakdale.

"Well, if Rockville wants such fellows it can have 'em," was Buster
Beggs's comment. "I, for one, am glad they are out of Oak Hall."

"I know one fellow who will be glad they are gone," said Shadow. "That
is Gus Plum."

"Yes, indeed," answered Dave, for he well remembered what influence
Merwell and even Jasniff had exercised over Plum when the youth had
found his appetite for liquor almost too strong for him.

Of course Dave had to go over many of his Western adventures, and the
others listened with keen interest to all he had to tell. When he
mentioned the theft of the horses at the ranch, and how Link Merwell had
been mixed up with the thieves, more than one shook his head.

"According to that, Link and Nick are a team," said Luke Watson. "Dave,
you had better be on your guard. They won't hesitate to play you some
foul trick."

Oakdale, a small but prosperous town, was reached at last, and the
schoolboys piled out of the train, along with a few other passengers.

"Hello, there is Polly Vane!" cried Dave, catching sight of a slender
lad with a girlish face. "How are you, Polly?"

"Oh, it's Dave Porter!" answered Bertram Vane, in a low but pleased
voice. He held out his slender hand. "I am delighted to see you back!
How tanned you are, and how strong-looking!"

"It was the mountain air did it, Polly. By the way, is Horsehair
around?" he continued, with a glance beyond the depot platform.

"Oh, yes! Here he comes now!" And as Polly spoke the big carryall of the
school swung into view, with Jackson Lemond, commonly called
"Horsehair," on the driver's seat. The boys made a rush for the
carryall, throwing their suit-cases in the rack on top, and piling
inside one over the other.

"Horsehair, you're looking fine!"

"How's the widow, Horsehair? Heard you were going to marry a widow with
eight children."

"Nine children, Buster,--don't drop any of the family like that."

"Nothing like getting a ready-made family while you are at it,
Horsehair."

"I heard the widow was a suffragette, Horsehair. Is that right?"

"If she's that, Horsehair, she'll make you mind the children and wash
dishes--better beware!"

"Oh, don't worry about that. Horsehair is an expert at washing dishes,
and at minding babies he once took first prize at a county fair; didn't
you, Horsehair?"

"Say, you!" roared the carryall driver, his face as red as a beet. "You
quit your knockin'! I ain't gittin' married to no widder, nor nobody
else! An' I ain't washin' dishes an' mindin' babies nuther! Such boys!"
And with a crack of his whip he started up the turnout so suddenly that
half the lads were pitched into the laps of the other half.

It was certainly a jolly crowd that rolled over the well-kept highway
toward Oak Hall. They knew that many hard lessons awaited them, and
that, once school opened, discipline would be strict, but just now all
were in high spirits. To the tune of "Auld Lang Syne" Luke Watson
started up the school song, and the others joined in lustily:

    "Oak Hall we never shall forget,
      No matter where we roam,
    It is the very best of schools,
      To us it's just like home!
    Then give three cheers, and let them ring
      Throughout this world so wide,
    To let the people know that we
      Elect to here abide!"

"That's the stuff!" cried Ben, slangily. "Now, then, for the field cry,"
and then came the Oak Hall cheer:

          "Baseball!
           Football!
           Oak Hall
           Has the call!
    Biff! Boom! Bang! Whoop!"

"I think we ought to display the school colors!" cried Dave. "Anybody
got a flag?"

"Here is one," answered Polly Vane, from his seat in front, beside the
driver. "But I haven't got a stick for it."

"Never mind, Shadow's fishing rod will do," answered Dave. "Shadow, hand
it over."

"All right, but don't break the rod," said Shadow. "It cost me four
bones."

The rod was put together, and the school colors fastened to the top.
Then the rod was thrust out of a side window of the carryall and waved
in the air, first by one student and then another.

"Look out, that you don't hit nobody with that fishin' pole!" warned the
carryall driver, as the turnout swung around a bend of the road.

He had scarcely spoken when a buggy came into view, driven by a tall,
serious-looking individual, wearing a high silk hat. The buggy swung
forward quickly, directly in line with the fishing rod, and before the
boys could haul the colors in the rod hit the silk hat, sending it
whirling into the bushes beside the roadway.




CHAPTER VIII

ABOUT SOME NEW STUDENTS


"Hi! hi! what's the meaning of this outrage!" roared the individual in
the buggy, as he brought his horse to a standstill. "Do you want to kill
me?"

"Who is it? Is he hurt?" questioned Dave, quickly.

"I don't know," answered Ben. "The rod took off his hat, but whether it
struck his head or not remains to be seen."

"Wot's the trouble back there?" demanded Jackson Lemond, as he succeeded
in bringing his team to a halt.

"Trouble is, we hit that man with the rod," answered Buster.

"Humph! I told you to be careful," grumbled the carryall driver. "It
don't pay to act like a passel o' wildcats, nohow!"

"It's too bad it happened," said Dave, and leaped to the ground and ran
back to where the buggy stood, with the driver glaring at them savagely.
The other students followed.

"Are you hurt?" asked Dave, anxiously. The man in the buggy was a total
stranger to him.

"Hurt? I don't know whether I am or not. What do you mean by knocking
off my hat with that stick?"

"It was an accident, sir. We had our school colors on the fishing rod
and were waving them in the air. We didn't expect to hit anybody."

"Bah! you are a lot of rowdies!" growled the man. "Give me my hat!" And
he pointed to where the head covering rested on some bushes.

"There you are," said Ben, restoring the hat to its owner. "But we are
not rowdies--it was purely an accident," he added, with a little flash
out of his clear eyes.

"Bah, I know schoolboys! They think it smart to be tough!" The man
looked his silk hat over. "I ought to make you buy me a new hat."

"That doesn't seem to be damaged any," said Buster, as he looked the
tile over. "If it is, of course we'll make it right," he added, hastily.
He and Luke were holding the fishing rod at the time of the accident.

"Do you boys belong at Oak Hall?" demanded the man, smoothing down the
roughed-up silk hat with his forearm.

"Yes," answered Dave.

"I thought so. Well, if this hat is cracked or anything like that I'll
notify the master of the school, and make you get me a new hat. Maybe it
will be a lesson to you, to be more careful."

"Let me see the hat, please," said Luke.

"What for?"

"I wish to see if it is really damaged."

"If it is, I'll let you know quick enough, don't fear."

"I want to see it now. I am not going to pay for a new hat if this one
is all right."

"Ha! so you don't want to take my word for it, eh?" roared the man.

"I want to look the hat over," answered Luke, stubbornly.

"So do I," added Buster.

"I'll not give you the hat--to play more tricks with. I shall take it to
a hat dealer, and if he says it is injured, I'll call at the school
about it." And having thus delivered himself the man in the buggy put
the silk hat on his head, spoke to his horse, and whirled on down the
road in the direction of Rockville.

"Talk about a peppery individual!" cried Ben. "He certainly is one."

"I don't think the hat was damaged at all," said Dave. "It will simply
be a hold-up--if he tries to get a new one out of us. That hat is quite
old and rusty-looking."

"He was a rusty-looking fellow all the way through," commented Buster.
"Wonder who he is?"

"He's some kind of a doctor," answered the carryall driver, who had left
his turnout to join the boys. "He came to Oakdale and Rockville this
summer, and he gives lectures on how to git well and strong, an' then he
sells medicine. I know a feller got a bottle from him, but it didn't do
him no good. He calls himself Doctor Montgomery,--but I reckon he ain't
no real doctor at all."

"Must be one of these quacks who go around the country trying to rope
people in," said Dave. "If he is, he ought to be run out of the
neighborhood."

"Maybe we'll never hear from him again," said Luke. But the boys were
destined to hear from Hooker Montgomery again, and in a manner to
surprise them.

Returning to the carryall, the boys took in the colors, so that they
might do no further damage, and then the journey to Oak Hall was
resumed. The encounter on the road had sobered them a little, and this
did not wear away until they came in sight of the school buildings.

"Hurrah! I see Phil and Roger!" cried Dave, as the carryall swung in
between the large oak trees that gave the place its name. "Hello!" he
shouted. "Here we are again!"

"Dave!" returned the senator's son, running forward, while Phil did the
same. "How are you all?" he added, waving his hand to the crowd in
general.

A number of other boys were present, and soon Dave was surrounded by his
old friends, all eager to shake hands. They wanted to know all about his
trip, and he in return wanted to know what they had been doing. So there
was a perfect babble of voices as the crowd walked into the main school
building, where good old Doctor Hasmer Clay, the head of the
institution, stood to welcome each new arrival.

"Glad to see you back, Porter," he said, kindly. "And I must thank you
in person for the skin you sent from the ranch. We have placed it on the
floor of the reception room. I am quite proud to think one of my pupils
is such a good shot."

"Roger and Phil are good shots, too," answered Dave, anxious that his
chums should have all the credit due them.

"So I understand." Doctor Clay paused for a moment. "I believe you met
Lincoln Merwell out West." He eyed Dave curiously as he mentioned the
fact.

"Yes, I met him--and we had some trouble--but it is all over now. But,
Doctor Clay----" Dave motioned the master of the school to one side and
lowered his voice. "Do you know that Merwell and Nick Jasniff are going
to Rockville Military Academy?"

"Is it possible!"

"That is what they say. It seems to me that the authorities of Rockville
ought to know what sort they are."

"That is true, Porter, but--ahem!--I don't know what I can do. You see,
to tell you the truth, the management of the military academy has
changed hands, and the new master and I are not on speaking terms. He
wished to obtain certain pupils, and they came to this school instead,
and that made him very angry. He claimed that I treated him unfairly,
but I did not. Even if I were to warn him against Jasniff and Merwell it
is not likely that he would take the warning in good part. Besides, the
military academy is not in a prosperous condition financially, and I
rather think the owners will take almost any pupils they can get."

"I see, sir. Well, if that's the case, why we might as well drop the
matter," answered Dave.

"I will think it over, and perhaps I'll send a letter to the master of
Rockville," returned Doctor Clay, seriously. "I don't want even an enemy
to harbor such lads as Jasniff and Merwell without knowing what they
are, although it would be to Rockville's credit if it took those boys
and made real men out of them."

As my old readers know, Oak Hall was a large building of brick and
stone, shaped in the form of a cross, with the classrooms, the private
office, the dining-room, and the kitchen on the ground floor. On the
second floor were the majority of the school dormitories, furnished to
accommodate from four to eight pupils each. The school was surrounded by
a broad campus, sloping in the rear to the Leming River, on the bank of
which was located the school boathouse. At one side of the campus was a
neat gymnasium, and at the other were some stables and sheds, and also a
newly-built garage for automobiles and motor-cycles.

Dave and his chums had their quarters in dormitories Nos. 11 and 12, two
large and well-lighted apartments, having a connecting door between. Not
far away was dormitory No. 13, occupied by Nat Poole and his cronies.
Merwell and Jasniff had had beds in that room, but now those places were
given to others.

Roger and Phil had arrived the day before, and were already settled, and
now they did what they could to make Dave at home, assisting him in
unpacking his trunk and his suit-case, and putting the things away in
the bureau and the clothes closet. Of course Dave had brought along some
pictures and banners, and these were hung up or set on the bureau--that
is, all but one photograph--one of Jessie she had given him the day
before. That he kept to himself, in his private drawer with a few other
treasures, under lock and key.

"Hello, Dave; can I help you?" came a voice from the doorway, and Gus
Plum appeared. The former bully of the Hall was a trifle thin and pale,
but his eyes were clear and his voice pleasant to hear.

"Why, Gus, how are you!" cried Dave, and shook hands warmly. "Did you
have a good time this summer?"

"Quite good," answered Plum. "You know I went up to Maine with Mr. Dale.
He took up half a dozen fellows, and we went in for botany and geology
while we were camping out."

"Well, I guess Mr. Dale is good company," answered Dave. He referred to
Andrew Dale, the first assistant teacher of the school, a man well
beloved by nearly all the students. Every summer this teacher took out
some of the boys, and there was always a rivalry as to who should go
along.

"It was better than just--er--knocking around," stammered Gus Plum. He
meant carousing around with fellows of the Merwell and Jasniff sort, and
Dave understood. He hesitated for a moment and looked around, to see if
anybody but Phil and Roger were in the rooms. "Of course, you know Nat
Poole is back," he continued, in a low voice.

"Yes,--I saw him leave Crumville."

"Dave, you want to beware of him." Gus Plum uttered the words very
earnestly.

"Oh, I am not afraid of Nat--never was."

"Yes, but this is different, Dave. I suppose you know there are a lot of
new fellows at Oak Hall this year."

"There are new fellows every year--the seniors go and the freshies come
in."

"Yes, but this year we have more new fellows than ever. A school in
Laverport broke up, and sixteen of the students were transferred to Oak
Hall--sophs, juniors, and seniors. So those fellows, added to the
freshies, make quite a bunch."

"What has that got to do with Poole and me?"

"Nat Poole and one of the fellows from Laverport, a chap named Guy
Frapley, are very good friends--in fact, I think they are related. This
Frapley was a sort of leader at Laverport, and he has got a number of
the other newcomers under his thumb. Last night I was down by the
boathouse, and I heard Nat and Frapley talking about you. Nat was very
anxious to do something to 'make you take a back seat,' as he termed it,
and after a while Frapley consented to take the matter up with him."

"What do you suppose they'll do?" questioned Phil, who had listened to
Plum's words with interest.

"I don't know exactly, but they'll do something, you can be sure of
that. More than likely it will be something underhanded."

"I am not afraid of Nat Poole--nor of this Guy Frapley, either," said
Dave.

"Dave has so many friends here, why should he be afraid?" asked Roger.

"Well, I only thought I'd warn you, that's all," answered the former
bully, meekly. "I don't want Dave to have any more trouble if I can help
it."

"It's kind of you, Gus, to tell me of this," answered Dave, heartily.
"And I'll be on my guard. But I really don't think Nat Poole will cut
much of a figure during this term of school. He has lost too many of his
old friends."

But, for once, Dave was mistaken. Nat Poole did "cut a figure," although
not quite in the manner expected, and what he and his cronies did caused
Dave not a little trouble.




CHAPTER IX

THE FOOTBALL MEETING


In a few days Dave felt as much at home as ever. Nearly all of his old
friends had returned to Oak Hall, and dormitories Nos. 11 and 12 were
filled with as bright a crowd of lads as could well be found anywhere.
In the number were Gus Plum and Chip Macklin, but the former was no
longer the bully as of old, and the latter had lost his toadying manner,
and was quite manly, and the other students treated them as if all had
always been the best of friends.

It did Dave's heart good to see the change in Plum, and he was likewise
pleased over the different way in which Macklin acted.

"I never thought it was in Gus and Chip," he said, privately, to Roger.
"It shows what a fellow can do if he sets his mind to it."

"It's to your credit as much as to their own," declared the senator's
son. "I don't believe Gus would have reformed if you hadn't braced him
up."

"I wish I could reform Nat Poole."

"You'll never do it, Dave--but you may scare him into behaving himself."

"Have you met Guy Frapley, Roger--I mean to talk to?"

"Yes, in the gym., where Phil and I were practicing with the Indian
clubs."

"What do you think of him?"

"I think he is fairly aching to become the leader of the school. He was
leader at Laverport, and it breaks his heart to play second fiddle to
anybody here. He and Nat are as thick as two peas. They tell me he is a
great football player, so I suppose he will try to run the eleven--if
the fellows will let him."

"I don't think the old players will let a new crowd run our team."

"The trouble is, some of the old players are gone, and the new crowd may
count up the largest number of votes. In that case they'll be able to
run things to suit themselves."

Dave had settled down to his studies in earnest, for that winter he
wished to make an extra good record for himself. He loved sports, but as
he grew older he realized that he was at Oak Hall more for a mental than
a physical training.

"When my time comes, I shall have a good many business interests to look
after," was the way he expressed himself to Phil, who joked him about
"boning like a cart horse," "and I know if I haven't the education I'll
be at the mercy of anybody who wishes to take advantage of my
ignorance."

"Well, you are not going to give up football, are you, Dave?" questioned
the shipowner's son.

"Not if they want me on the eleven."

"Well, that depends. We have a meeting Monday afternoon, in the gym."

Dave had noticed a good many whispered conversations taking place
between some of the old students and all of the new ones, and he had
wondered what was going on. A hint was dropped that the football meeting
would "wake things up," whatever that might mean.

"I think I know what is in the wind," said Gus Plum to Dave during a
recess on Monday. "Nat Poole and Guy Frapley came to me last night and
they wanted me to pledge myself to support Frapley for captain of the
eleven."

"Well, they had a right to do that, Gus."

"I told them I wouldn't do it. They said if I didn't I'd get left. I
told 'em that wouldn't hurt me very much, because I didn't care for
playing anyway."

"I see," answered Dave, thoughtfully.

He at once sought out Roger, Phil, and Sam Day,--those who had loved to
play football in the past, and who had hoped to be on the eleven the
present season--and talked the matter over with them. Then the
shipowner's son made a quiet canvass among all those interested in
football.

"Plum is right," he declared later. "Frapley, aided by Nat Poole and his
cronies, is going to carry matters with a high hand."

"It's an outrage!" cried Sam. "A stranger running the Oak Hall eleven! I
shall protest!"

"It won't do any good--if Frapley gets the votes," answered Roger.
"Especially if he is a good player, and they say he is."

The news that there was going to be a lively time drew a large crowd to
the meeting in the gymnasium. This was called to order by the former
manager of the eleven, and a call was issued for nominations for a new
manager.

"I nominate John Rand!" cried Nat Poole, mentioning one of the students
from Laverport.

"Second the nomination!" added Guy Frapley, promptly.

"I nominate Henry Fordham," said Roger, putting up one of the old
students, who did not play, but who was a good general manager, and a
youth well liked by his classmates.

Dave seconded Roger's nomination, and as there were no other names
submitted, the nominations were declared closed.

"Mr. Chairman, I'd like to say a few words before we hold an
election--I mean, before we vote," said Sam Day, mounting a chair.

"Oh, dry up, and let us cast our ballots!" muttered Nat Poole.

"I wish to speak in favor of Henry Fordham, whom all _old students_ of
Oak Hall know so well," continued Sam. "He knows----"

"Vote! vote! Let us vote!" called out several new students loudly, and
it was seen that they were urged on by Guy Frapley.

In a moment half a dozen students were speaking at once, and it took
several minutes for the chairman of the meeting to restore silence. Then
Sam was allowed to make a short speech and he was followed by Dave, both
speaking in favor of Fordham. Then a new student spoke in favor of Rand,
and then the voting began.

The result was a painful surprise for Fordham, and equally painful to
Dave and his chums. So well had Nat Poole, Guy Frapley, and their
cohorts laid their plans that John Rand was elected manager of the
coming eleven by a majority of five votes.

"It is all up with our crowd!" murmured Roger to Dave, when the result
was announced. "That crowd has got votes enough to ride over us
rough-shod, and it is going to do it."

And the senator's son was right, as later events speedily proved. The
new football team, made up of a regular eleven and five substitutes,
counted but six old Oak Hall players. Dave, Roger, Phil, and their close
chums were utterly ignored. Guy Frapley was chosen captain and
quarter-back, and Nat Poole was made full-back. It is needless to say
that some of the old players, who had worked so hard in the past to make
Oak Hall victorious, left the meeting in disgust.

"This is the worst I was ever up against!" murmured Roger. "Talk about
ingratitude! And just think that once Phil nearly lost his life to help
us win!"

"And think of how hard Dave and you worked," put in a sympathizer. "It's
a burning shame, that's what it is."

"Well, there is one satisfaction," said Dave, as calmly as he could,
although he was as depressed as any one. "It is on their shoulders now
to make good. We haven't anything on that score to worry about."

"I'll tell you what let's do!" cried Phil. "We'll organize a scrub
eleven, and wax 'em out of their shoes!"

"I don't believe they'll play you--they are afraid," said Buster.

"Never mind, then we'll play somebody else. We can challenge them,
anyway. If they are afraid of us we want the whole school to know it."

Phil's idea met with considerable favor, and he easily persuaded Dave,
Roger, Sam, Gus Plum, and a number of others to join his scrub eleven,
which was named the Old Guard. Phil was manager as well as captain, and
played right half-back, while Dave was quarter-back, and Roger was
center. The eleven went into practice with as much vigor as if they were
training for some championship games.

As had been anticipated, the regular eleven tried to ignore the Old
Guard. When a challenge to play was issued, John Rand sent back word
that he could fix up his own scrub eleven without any help from
outsiders. His scrub was made up of freshmen and, of course, the regular
team beat them with ease.

"Never mind--they are afraid of us--and we'll let everybody know it,"
declared Roger. And then the challenge from the Old Guard to the regular
eleven was posted up in the gymnasium, where all might see it. It was
torn down over night, but a new copy was put up by the following noon.

As was to be expected, the challenge created much talk, and Phil and
Frapley almost came to blows about it. Phil and his chums were accused
of trying to break up the good feeling of the school in general, and, in
return, the shipowner's son very bluntly told the new captain of the
school eleven that he would lead Oak Hall to defeat.

"It's time enough to talk like that after we are beaten," declared Guy
Frapley, grimly. Then it was announced that the regular Oak Hall
football eleven would play the opening game of the season against an
eleven from Lemington on a Saturday afternoon, the contest to take place
on the Lemington Athletic Grounds.

"They ought to be waxed good and proper!" said Chip Macklin.

"Who?" asked Dave.

"Our eleven, Dave. Oh, I know what you will say--that that isn't the
true school spirit and all that--but just the same, Poole and Frapley
and that bunch don't deserve to win."

"I've got half a notion not to go to the game," declared Sam.

"I am going," answered Dave. "I don't like that crowd, and I don't think
we were treated fairly. Just the same, for the honor of Oak Hall, I am
going to the game and root for our side."

"The same old Dave!" murmured Roger, in admiration. "Well, if you're
going I am going too."

Lemington was situated several miles up the river, and while some of the
boys decided to go to that town by the carryall and on their bicycles
and motor-cycles, others decided to go up in boats.

As my old readers know, Nat Poole was the owner of a good-sized
motor-boat, a craft he had had stored in the boathouse since the last
summer. In this boat the dudish student frequently went for a cruise up
and down the river, taking his cronies along. The fact that he owned the
craft and could give them a ride, made Nat quite popular with some of
the students.