"Help me!" yelled Buster. "Don't leave me, fellows!"

"Here, give me your hand!" cried Dave, turning back, and as the hand was
thrust towards him, he gave a jerk that brought Buster out in a hurry.
By this time most of the boys had run to a safe distance, and Dave and
Buster lost no time in following.

"All here?" demanded Ben. The lanterns had been left behind, so that
they could see only with difficulty.

A rapid count was made, and it was learned that all were safe. One
student had scratched his face, and another had wrenched his ankle, but
in the excitement these minor injuries were scarcely noticed.

"Thank fortune we are out of that!" panted Phil.

"I'm mighty glad I wasn't killed," added Luke.

"I wonder if the slide is really coming down after all," remarked Sam.
"It doesn't seem to be moving any more."

All peered forth in the semi-darkness at the big wooden affair. It had
sagged in the middle, and the top had twisted several feet to one side.
Another brace looked as if it was on the point of breaking and letting
it down still further.

"Better get out of here," said Nat Poole. "If the owner of the
ice-houses finds this out he'll make you pay for the busted slide."

"Well, I think we ought to pay for it, anyway," answered Dave, quickly.
"We broke it."

"Huh! I wouldn't pay a cent unless I had to," grumbled the
money-lender's son.

"What about our lanterns?" asked Roger.

"That's so!" exclaimed Ben. "They are all up in the ice-house, or down
in the sawdust pit."

"We can't leave them there,--they may set fire to something," said Phil.

"We'll have to get them," decided Dave.

"Oh, but that's dangerous!" cried one of the students who had just been
initiated. "Why, the slide might come down just as we were getting the
lanterns!"

"Yes, and I don't want to be killed for the sake of four or five
lanterns," added another.

"It's not a question of the worth of the lanterns," said Dave. "We
mustn't leave them here because of the danger of fire. If we left them,
and the ice-houses burnt down, we'd have a nice bill to pay!"

"Oh, don't croak so much!" growled Nat Poole. "I'm going back to school.
It's cold here."

"You stay where you are, Nat!" cried Ben, catching him by the arm.
"You'll go back with the rest of us, and not before."

With caution Dave, followed by Phil and Shadow, approached the
ice-house, and climbed up one of the ladders nailed to the side of the
building. Then they ventured out on a corner of the slide, and secured
two of the lanterns.

"We'll have to go down part of the slide for that other," said the
shipowner's son.

"No, don't do that, for your weight may bring the slide down," returned
Dave. "I'll get a long stick and see if I can't get the lantern with
that."

A stick was handy, and fixing a bent nail in the end, Dave reached down,
and after a little trouble secured the lantern. Then the boys went below
and secured the lanterns in the sawdust pit.

"Hi! what are you boys doing here?" demanded an unexpected voice from
out of the darkness, and by the light of the lanterns the students saw a
man approaching. He had a stick in one hand and an old-fashioned
horse-pistol in the other.

"Who are you?" questioned Buster, as leader of the Gee Eyes.

"Who am I? I am Bill Cameron, the owner of these ice-houses, that's who
I am! And I know you, in spite of them tomfoolery dresses you've got on.
You're boys from Oak Hall."

"You've hit the nail on the head, Mr. Cameron!" cried Phil. "Glad to see
you!" And he walked forward and held out his hand.

"Who be you?" demanded Bill Cameron, and peered at the shipowner's son
curiously. "Well, I declare, if it ain't the young man as stopped the
runaway hoss fer my wife! Glad to see you!" And the ice-house man shook
hands cordially. "Up to some secret fun, I suppose."

"Yes, sir."

"I thought I heard a yellin' around the ice-houses, and I told my wife
I'd dress and come over and see what it meant. Hope you ain't done no
damage," the man continued, somewhat anxiously.

"We have done a little damage, I am afraid," answered Phil. "But we are
willing to pay for it."

"What did ye do?"

In as few words as possible Phil and some of the others explained the
situation. They were afraid Bill Cameron would be angry, but instead he
broke into a laugh.

"Ain't it the greatest ever!" he cried. "You ain't done no damage at
all. The carpenters put that wooden slide up wrong, and I told 'em
they'd have to take it down, and they started to-day. That's what made
them bracin's bust. The hull thing is comin' down,--so what you did
don't hurt, nohow."

"I am very glad to hear that!" cried Phil, and the others said
practically the same. Then they bade good-night to the ice-houses'
owner, and hurried in the direction of Oak Hall.

"It's a good thing, Phil, that you knew Mr. Cameron," said Dave, on the
way. "But you never told me about stopping a runaway horse for Mrs.
Cameron."

"Oh, it wasn't much!" answered the shipowner's son, modestly. "It
happened last June, just before we started for Star Ranch. The horse was
running along the river road, and I got hold of him and stopped him,
that's all. Mrs. Cameron was going to tell Doctor Clay about it, but I
got her to keep quiet."

"Phil, you're a hero!" And Dave gave his chum's arm a squeeze that made
Phil wince, but with pleasure.

Murphy, the monitor, was on the watch for them, and let them in by a
back door. All lost no time in getting to their dormitories and in
undressing and going to bed. Everybody in the crowd was satisfied over
the initiations but Nat Poole. His plot to expose Dave and his chums had
failed, and he was correspondingly sour.

"But I'll fix them yet," muttered the money-lender's son, to himself.
"Just wait till they start to play Rockville, that's all!" And the
thought of what he had in mind to do made him smile grimly.

It must be confessed that some of the football players felt rather
sleepy the next morning. Dave was sleepy himself, and this alarmed him
not a little.

"If we lose the game with Rockville to-day it will be our own fault," he
said, to the crowd that had participated in the Gee Eyes' doings. "We
should have gotten home at least an hour earlier than we did last
night--or rather this morning." And then he made each player take a good
rubbing down and just enough exercise to limber up his muscles.

Dave had not forgotten what had been said about Nat Poole, and directly
after breakfast he called Chip Macklin to one side. As my old readers
know, Chip had once been the sneak of the school, and he knew well how
to hang around and take notice of what was going on.

"Chip, I've got some work for you," said Dave, in a low voice. "I may be
mistaken--in fact, I hope for the honor of the school that I am. But I
don't trust Nat Poole. He is down on some of us because we have gotten
back on the eleven, and you'll remember how chummy he used to be with
Jasniff and Merwell, who are now going to Rockville,--and with Rand and
Frapley, and they are now going to the academy also. I am afraid that
Nat----"

"That Nat will try to sell you out?" finished Chip, his little eyes
snapping expectantly.

"Yes. He may give our signals away, or something like that."

"I see. And you want me to watch--and report, if I see anything wrong?"

"Yes."

"I'll do it. I'd like to catch him--for he never treats me decently,"
added Chip.

It had been decided that some of the boys should go to Rockville by
boats and others by carriages and on their bicycles and motor-cycles.
The eleven were to go in the school carryall, and Mr. Dodsworth and
Andrew Dale were to go with them.

Owing to the change in the academy management, but little had been done
to the athletic field, and when the Oak Hall club arrived, they found
the grounds rather uneven and poorly marked.

"Bad for really good playing," remarked Dave.

"You'll have to be on your guard," warned Andrew Dale. "This field
should have been rolled down after the last storm."

The grandstand was rather a small affair, and it speedily became filled
with visitors, for the annual football game between the two schools was
always a great drawing card. Flags and banners were much in evidence,
and so were horns and rattles.

"I wonder if any outsiders we know are present?" remarked Roger to his
chums, as they walked across the field.

"Somebody is waving from the corner of the stand," answered Phil. "I
think it is Miss Rockwell."

"It is, and Miss Feversham is with her, and so is Mr. Rockwell,"
answered Dave, and then the boys took off their caps in salutation. And
then they recognized a number of other friends.

The eleven had just turned into its dressing-room, to prepare for the
game, when Chip Macklin came running in all out of breath.

"I want to see Dave!" he gasped, and then, as soon as the pair had
walked to a corner, he went on: "I caught Nat."

"What doing?" demanded Dave, quickly.

"Giving all of your signals away to Merwell, Jasniff, and one of the
Rockville football players. He started to tell about your trick plays
when he saw me standing near, and shut up."

"Where is he now?"

"In the grandstand, with some girl."

"I will attend to this at once, Chip. Come with me."

Dave led the small student out of the dressing-room, and called Andrew
Dale and Mr. Dodsworth. Quickly the situation was explained. The school
teacher looked shocked, and the gymnastic instructor was disgusted.

"I will take care of Poole," said Mr. Dale, in a strained voice. "Mr.
Dodsworth, you had better arrange for a change of signals."

"I will," answered the gymnastic instructor. And then Andrew Dale
hurried off, and Dave returned to the dressing-room, accompanied by Mr.
Dodsworth. The signals were re-arranged, and so were the signs for some
of the new trick plays.

"Now then, boys, let me give you a bit of advice," said Mr. Dodsworth,
when they were ready to go out on the field for practice. "From what I
have heard Rockville has good staying powers, and will try to tire you
out. Your move is to go at them with a jump and make your points early
in the game--and then hold them down. Now do your best--and don't give
in until the last whistle blows!"




CHAPTER XX

THE GREAT GAME WITH ROCKVILLE


"Dave, I think I see a chance of catching Rockville napping," said
Roger, just before the practice began.

"You mean, if they try to take advantage of our signals?"

"Yes. If they feel sure we are going to do one thing and we do another,
they'll get left."

"Well, they'll deserve to get left--if they try to profit by any such
work."

"Maybe the eleven won't stand for it."

"Oh, I don't know. Rockville is hungry for a victory over us, and they
may think all is fair in love and war and football," broke in Phil.

As each eleven came on the gridiron it was roundly cheered. The
Rockville supporters at once commenced their well-known slogan:

       "Rockville!
       Rockville!
    You'll get your fill
       Of Rockville!"

And immediately Oak Hall replied with its own well-known cry:

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

And then from both sides arose a great din of horns and rattles. In the
rear of the field were several automobiles and they, too, let off their
horns and screech whistles, adding to the noise.

The practice at an end, the toss-up followed, and this was won by
Rockville, and they elected to take the ball. Out on the gridiron spread
the two elevens, each player eager to do his best. Then the whistle
blew, there came a kicking of the pigskin, and the great game was on.

The play was fast and furious from the start, and in a very few minutes
Dave and his chums understood that to gain a victory was going to be no
easy thing. Rockville had the advantage in weight, and long practice had
put every man in the pink of condition.

But the trick that Nat Poole had tried to play bore unexpected results.
The kick-off was a good one, but the pigskin was caught by Phil and he
brought it back almost to the center of the gridiron, being aided by
clever interference on the part of Roger and Plum. Then the signal was
given to carry the ball through the center. The Rockville players
thought it was a signal to run around the left end, and moved
accordingly. Up the field came the pigskin, and before Rockville could
recover from the error made, Plum had the ball within four yards of the
goal line. Here, however, he was downed so heavily that the wind was
knocked completely out of him.

"That's the way to do it! Hurrah for Oak Hall!"

"Now, shove it over, fellows!"

"They didn't follow their signals at all!" whispered one player to the
Rockville captain.

"I know it," was the low answer. "Don't depend on the signals after
this."

But the damage had been done, and two minutes later Oak Hall obtained a
touchdown, Roger carrying the ball over the line. Dave made the kick,
and the pigskin sailed neatly between the posts. Then what a cheering
went up, and what a noise from the horns and rattles!

"That's the way to do it!"

"First blood for Oak Hall! Now keep up the good work!"

As quickly as possible the ball was brought once more into play, and now
the contest waged fast and furious. Back and forth went the pigskin,
first in the possession of one eleven, and then in the possession of
the other. There was a fine run around the right end by Roger, and
another by a player for Rockville. Then came a mix-up, and each side had
to retire a player, while Rockville was penalized several yards for an
off-side play.

"Five minutes more!" came the warning, and then in a fury Rockville
tried to form a flying wedge--such a move being permissible that year.
The shock was terrific, and in spite of all their efforts to stand firm,
Oak Hall broke, and the pigskin was carried over the line. Then the goal
was kicked--and the whistle blew, and the first half of the great game
came to an end.

Score: Oak Hall 6, Rockville 6.

Panting for breath, for that last shock had been a telling one, the Oak
Hall players filed into the dressing-room, there to rest and to receive
such attention as they needed.

"Well, it is still our game as much as theirs," said Dave, trying to
cheer up his men. "But we want to go at 'em hammer and tongs in the
second half."

"Try that right-end trick as early as possible," advised Mr. Dodsworth.
"I don't think they'll be looking for it. That mix-up on signals
bothered them some."

"Did Mr. Dale see Poole?" asked Roger.

"Yes, and Poole was sent back to the school in care of one of the
carriage drivers," answered the gymnastic instructor.

Down in the grandstand the supporters of Rockville and of Oak Hall were
having lively discussions over the merits of the two elevens. Among the
Rockville students were Jasniff, Merwell, and Frapley.

"I hope we wax 'em in the second half!" said Merwell to Jasniff.

"How much money did you put up, Link?" asked Jasniff.

"All I could scrape up--thirty-five dollars."

"And I put up forty dollars."

"With the Oak Hall fellows?"

"No, with some sports from the town."

"Just what I did. Of course, I hope we don't lose! If we do I'll be in a
hole until my next remittance comes."

"Oh, Rockville has got to win!" said Jasniff, loudly. "We can't help but
do it."

"This is Oak Hall's game!" cried a voice from the other end of the
grandstand, and then a cheer went up, followed by another cheer from the
local supporters.

"Say, when do we get back at Dave Porter?" asked Merwell, while the
cheering was going on. "I'm getting tired of waiting."

"We'll get back at him very soon now," answered Jasniff. "If what Doctor
Montgomery tells me is true, everything will be ready about
Thanksgiving time."

"Can you depend on the doctor?"

"I think so. He is almost down and out, and will do anything for money,"
answered Nick Jasniff, and then the talk came to an end, as the second
half of the game began.

Both elevens had been urged to do their best, and the play was as
spirited as before. Rockville was unusually aggressive, and one of the
players tackled Phil unfairly, giving his shoulder a severe wrench. A
protest was at once made by both Phil and Dave, and amid a general
wrangle the Rockville man was retired.

"Never mind, they are going to put Ross in!" was the cry. "He'll show
'em what he can do!" Ross had been a favorite player in years gone by,
but had not been allowed to play before because he was behind in his
studies. Now, however, it was seen that he was sorely needed, and the
Rockville faculty gave the desired permission to fill the vacancy.

Ten minutes of play found the pigskin near the center of the field.
Then, for the first time, Dave saw a chance to use the right-end trick
which Mr. Dodsworth had suggested, and gave the necessary signal. At
once the entire eleven was on the alert.

The trick consisted in sending the ball over to the right, back to
center, and then to the right again, some players meanwhile rushing to
the left as a blind. The movements were made with rapidity, and
Rockville was caught napping. Up came the pigskin in Plum's arms, and he
turned it over to another player, who in turn passed it to Dave. Then
Dave saw a clear space and dove for it. He was followed and tackled, but
shook himself loose, and dropped on the ball directly over the goal
line.

A roar went up.

"Another touchdown for Oak Hall!"

"Now for another goal!"

Amid a wild cheering the try for goal was made. But a keen wind had
sprung up, and the goal was missed by a few inches.

"Never mind, that makes the score eleven to six in Oak Hall's favor."

Once again the ball was brought into play. There were but seven minutes
of time left, and Rockville played like demons, hurling themselves again
and again at their opponents. But Dave felt that enough had been
accomplished, and gave the signal to be on the defensive, and thus
Rockville was held back, and the most it could do was to get the ball on
Oak Hall's thirty-five yard line. And then the fateful whistle sounded,
and the great game came to a close.

Final score: Oak Hall 11, Rockville Academy 6.

It was a well-earned victory, and the Oak Hall eleven were warmly
praised by their friends and the public in general, while many condemned
the military academy for the roughness shown.

"Oh, it was too lovely for anything!" said Vera Rockwell, when Phil and
Roger sauntered up, waiting for the carryall to take the eleven back to
Oak Hall.

"It was indeed!" added Mary Feversham. "We compliment you, and we
compliment Mr. Porter, too," she added, her eyes beaming brightly.

"A well-fought game," was Mr. Rockwell's comment; and then the boys
passed on, to join their fellows.

Of course the majority of the Rockville supporters felt blue over the
outcome of the game, and they lost no time in leaving the grandstand and
disappearing from view. Jasniff and Merwell went also, but in another
direction.

"This leaves me high and dry," growled Merwell. "I won't have a cent to
spend for two weeks."

"Let us see if we can't borrow some money," suggested Jasniff.

"I'd like to know who from? All the fellows who bet have lost their
money."

"Then we'll have to hit somebody who didn't bet--some of the goody-goody
fellows," and he laughed bitterly.

"Like Porter, eh?"

"Yes, Porter never bets, nor drinks, nor smokes. I can't understand how
he makes himself popular, can you?"

"It's his smooth way. But some day he'll be found out and dropped,"
answered Merwell.

"He'll be dropped when we work our little game against him," returned
Jasniff, with an evil look in his eyes.

Never had the carryall contained a happier crowd of students than those
who rode back to Oak Hall after the game. They sang, cheered, and
whistled to their hearts' content, and nearly drove Horsehair wild with
their antics, climbing out of the windows and over the roof of the
turnout.

"Bless my heart, but you must be careful!" pleaded the driver. "I don't
want to hurt no-buddy on this trip!"

"Oh, Horsehair, we can't hold ourselves down!" answered Phil. "Such a
victory isn't gained every day."

"Yes, sir, I know, sir. But them hosses don't know nothin' about
football, an' fust thing you know they'll run away," pleaded the
carryall driver.

"We'll take a chance," put in Roger, brightly. "Now, then, all
together!" And out on the air rolled the old school song to the tune of
Auld Lang Syne, and then followed a cheering that could be heard for
half a mile.

"Bonfires to-night!" announced Buster Beggs. "The biggest yet."

"Say, that puts me in mind of a story----" began Shadow, but what he
wanted to tell was lost in a tooting of horns and a clacking of rattles
that lasted until Oak Hall was reached.




CHAPTER XXI

THANKSGIVING, AND A SNOWBALLING CONTEST


The celebration that night was a grand affair, and Doctor Clay allowed
the students to remain out until midnight. Many bonfires were lighted,
and the boys danced around, sang songs, and played many practical jokes
on each other and on Horsehair and Pop Swingly. Shadow was in his
element, and was permitted to tell a dozen or more of his yarns, much to
his own satisfaction if not of his listeners.

The only boys who felt blue were Nat Poole and the lads who had played
against Lemington and then been put off the eleven. Nat had received a
sharp lecture from the doctor and then been sent to his room, to remain
there until the following morning. He wanted to pack up and go home,
fearing the jeers of his fellow-students when they learned of his
meanness, but he did not dare to make this move, for his father had
written him a sharp letter, telling him to finish out the term at Oak
Hall or otherwise to go to work,--and Nat did not want to go to work.

Of course the victory over Rockville made Dave and his chums feel good.
The whole eleven were warmly congratulated by the doctor, and by Mr.
Dale and Mr. Dodsworth.

The game with the military academy was followed by a number of other
contests, and the school made a fine record for itself, winning six
games out of eight. The two games lost were with college boys, and these
players were all considerably heavier than the Oak Hall lads. The last
game took place on Thanksgiving Day, and was witnessed by Dave's father
and Mr. Wadsworth, and also by Laura and Jessie. Oak Hall won this
contest by a score of 18 to 11.

"Oh, it was grand, Dave!" cried Jessie, after the boys had left the
gridiron. "That run you made was the best ever!"

"You all did well," said Laura.

"It makes my blood tingle, and I feel like getting into the game
myself," said Oliver Wadsworth. "It was a clean-cut contest from start
to finish."

Phil and some of the other boys were going home, and soon said good-by.
Mr. Porter and Mr. Wadsworth went off with Doctor Clay, and that left
Dave and Roger with the two girls. As Senator Morr was at home from
Washington, it was decided that the young folks should pay Roger's home
a visit for the rest of the day, Mr. Porter and Mr. Wadsworth coming
there in the evening to take Laura and Jessie back to Crumville.

The young folks made a jolly party as they boarded the train. They
turned over one of the double seats and sat facing each other, and
laughed and chatted until Hemson was reached. Here a carriage awaited
them, and they were driven to the Morr mansion, where they received a
warm greeting from the senator and his wife.

The girls had much to tell about themselves, and then asked about
matters at the school. They were indignant to learn that Nat Poole had
exposed the football signals.

"It is just like him--the sneak!" cried Jessie. "Oh, Dave, I hope you
don't have anything more to do with him."

"I am willing to let him alone if he will let me alone."

"Do you hear anything from Link Merwell?" questioned Laura.

"Not much. But I understand he and Nick Jasniff have it in for me."

"Then, Dave, you must be on your guard," cautioned his sister. "I think
Merwell is a regular snake in the grass--his actions at the ranch prove
it--and Jasniff is no better."

"Jasniff is worse," said Roger. "He is a brute."

The boys and girls spent a happy evening together, and all too soon Mr.
Porter and Mr. Wadsworth arrived to take Laura and Jessie back to
Crumville. The boys hated to see them go, and went to the depot with
them. There was some warm handshaking, and then the train rolled away,
and the boys went back to the house.

"Splendid girls, both of them," was Roger's comment, and Dave quite
agreed with him. But he was thinking more about Jessie than his
sister,--and it is quite likely Roger was thinking more about Laura.

The boys remained at Roger's home until Saturday afternoon, and then
returned to Oak Hall. The air was heavy and very cold, and they were
glad to get out of the carryall, rush into the school, and warm up.

"Feels like snow to me," said Dave; and he was right. It started to snow
that night, and kept it up for the greater part of Sunday, so that by
Monday the ground was covered to the depth of a foot or more.

"Hurrah, for a snowballing match!" cried Buster. "Everybody in the line
after school."

"Let us choose sides," suggested Ben. "Instead of having an Army of the
North and an Army of the South, we can have----"

"An Army of Red and an Army of Blue," finished Dave. "What do you say to
the red sweaters against the blue sweaters?"

As many lads of the school wore red sweaters, and about an equal number
wore blue, the idea caught on instantly, and at the noon recess the two
armies, of Red and of Blue, were hastily organized. Each numbered
twenty-five recruits, and Roger was made the leader on one side and Sam
Day the leader on the other. With Roger went Dave and Phil, while Ben,
Buster, and Shadow sided with Sam. Roger's side was the Army of Red, and
they made themselves a big red flag, with the initials O. H. on it. Not
to be outdone, Sam's army made a big blue flag, also with the school
initials.

It was decided that the Army of Blue was to take a position in the
woods, and that the Army of Red was to try to dislodge them and force
them to retreat. If either army was driven back two hundred yards it
must give up its flag and count itself beaten.

After school half an hour was allowed for getting ready, and most of
that time was consumed in making snowballs and in fortifying the edge of
the woods by throwing up a snowbank. Then a bugle belonging to one of
the students sounded out, and the great snowball battle began.

It was certainly a hot contest, and the snowballs flew in all
directions, and many a "soldier" received one in the body or in the
head. Sam had placed his followers with care, and try their best the
Army of Red could not dislodge them.

"I have a scheme," said Phil, after the battle had lasted for fully half
an hour, and while the boys were pausing to manufacture fresh
"ammunition" in the shape of snowballs. "Let us rush up and then pretend
to retreat. They'll think they have us on the run, and as soon as they
leave the woods and that snowbank, we can turn on 'em again, and wallop
'em."

"If you try that, be sure of one thing," said Dave. "Have plenty of
snowballs on hand. Otherwise that fake retreat may become a real one."

"We'll make a lot of snowballs," said Roger. "Pitch in, everybody!"

In a little while, the Army of Red was ready for the movement Phil had
suggested. Then Roger explained just how it was to be carried out. They
were to advance on the left wing of the Blues and then retreat in the
direction of the road. As soon as the Blues came from cover, they were
to drive them--if they could be driven--to the upper edge of the woods
and across the field beyond.

"Now then, all together!" cried the senator's son. "And make them think
you are really retreating, at first."

Forward went the Army of Red, throwing snowballs wildly. Then came a
shower of balls in return, and several of the Reds were seen to fall, as
if knocked down. Then came a pause, and several lads started to go back.

"Stop! Don't run!" yelled Roger. "Don't run!" But as this was part of
the deception, those in retreat kept on backing away.

"Hurrah! we've got 'em on the run!" came from the woods, and in a trice
several of the Army of Blue appeared on the top of the snowbank. "Come
on, let us chase 'em!"

Over the snowbank came the Army of Blue, carrying all the snowballs it
could manage. The Army of Red continued to retreat, each boy loaded down
with ammunition. Then, just as the edge of the woods was cleared, a loud
whistle sounded out.

It was the signal to turn, and like one man the Army of Red faced about,
and let fly a heavy volley of snowballs, directly in the face of the
enemy. The Blues were taken completely by surprise, and almost dazed.
Then came another volley of snowballs, and a dozen lads were struck, in
the head and elsewhere.

"Wow!" yelled one boy. "Say, what are we up against?"

"Let 'em have it!" came the rallying yell of the Reds. "Down with 'em!
Drive 'em to cover!" And on they came with a rush, throwing their
snowballs with all the accuracy possible. The severe onslaught
demoralized the other army for the time being, and two boys broke and
ran--then half a dozen more--and then the whole army.

"Stop! Turn and face 'em!" yelled Sam. "Give it to 'em hot!" But this
was not to be, for the reason that the Blues were out of ammunition.
They ran close to the woods, but were driven from that cover by a flank
movement, and then took to the field, trying to manufacture snowballs as
they ran.

"We've got 'em going--don't let up!" cried Dave, and, having stopped to
make a few more snowballs, he pushed on, with Roger and half a dozen
others beside him. Phil carried the flag, and all made for where the
enemy had its flag of blue. Then came an exchange of snowballs at close
range, and poor Phil was hit in the face. He dropped the flag, and Dave
picked it up.

"Much hurt, Phil?" asked Roger, anxiously.

"I guess not," was the plucky reply. "Go on and wax 'em!" And then Phil
turned back for a moment to catch his breath.

At the edge of the field was a ridge, and back of this a deep hollow.
Sam decided to take a stand behind the ridge, and so directed his
followers.

"But look out for the holes," said one of the boys. "Some nasty ones
around here."

The battle soon waged as fiercely as ever. On came the Army of Red with
a fresh supply of ammunition, and snowballs flew in all directions. Poor
Sam was struck in the ear, and the carrier of the flag was hit in the
arm and in the mouth. Down went the flag, and before the carrier could
pick it up, three of the enemy pounced upon him, and while two held him,
the third captured the all-important trophy.

"Hurrah! We've got their flag! Now drive 'em along!" was the cry.

"We must get the flag back!" called out Sam. "Now then, all together!"
And again the battle went on.

"Now, for a final rush!" said Roger, after the blue flag had been taken
to the rear. "We are going to win! Come on!" And he led the way.

Near the top of the ridge, the Red and the Blue fought fiercely, for all
the boys were now thoroughly warmed up. Back and forth surged the long
lines, and for several minutes it looked as if the Blues might succeed
in driving the Reds back. Once Dave came close to losing the flag, and
only saved it by sending two of the enemy sprawling headlong in the
snow.

At last the Reds managed to reach the top of the ridge, and from that
point send down a fierce shower of snowballs. The Blues could not
withstand this fire, and broke and ran.

"Hurrah! the victory is ours!" yelled several of the Reds.

"Let us clinch it, and make 'em cry for mercy!" shouted one of the
victorious army, and forward he went, and nearly all of the others after
him.

"Be careful!" cried Dave. "There are a lot of holes around here!
Somebody may break a leg."

His voice was drowned by the shouts of those who had won, and over the
ridge and towards the hollow poured the victors and vanquished--the
latter trying to dodge the fresh shower of snowballs.

"It's all over--let up!" yelled one boy of the Army of Blue. "Let up,
can't you?"

"One last shower, fellows!" cried Roger. "Now then, all together!"

The snowballs were delivered, and then came a pause, as all realized
that the battle was at an end. Then, from the far end of the hollow,
came an unexpected yell:

"Help! help! I am down in a hole and can't get out! Help!"




CHAPTER XXII

IN WHICH THE SHOES COME BACK


"Somebody is in trouble!"

"Who is it?"

"Where is he?"

"It is Tom Hally!" cried Roger, mentioning one of the new boys at Oak
Hall. "He must have fallen into one of the holes near the big hollow."

"Come on and see what is the matter," said Dave, and dropping the flag,
he sped in the direction of the cries, and a dozen others followed.

When they reached the spot from which the cries for help had proceeded
they could see nothing of Tom Hally.

"He was here a minute ago--I saw him!" declared a student named Messmer.
"He must have gone down out of sight!"

"Be careful that somebody doesn't go down on top of him," cautioned
Roger.

He had hardly spoken when there came a cry from Messmer, and, looking in
his direction, the other boys were horrified to see him sink into the
snow up to his waist.

"Hi! hi! help me!" yelled Messmer. "Quick, something has me by the
foot!"

"Maybe it's Hally, at the bottom of the hole!" burst out Dave.

"Let us make a chain and haul him out," suggested Phil.

This suggestion was considered a good one, and in a twinkling a long
line was formed, the boys taking hold of each other's hands. Dave was at
one end of the line, and he approached Messmer with caution.

"Help me!" gasped Messmer. "Something is dragging me down!"

"Take hold of my hand," answered Dave. "Hold tight!"

Messmer did as requested, and then Dave gave the other boys the signal
to haul away.

"But be careful," he added. "Otherwise the line may break, and some more
of us will go in the hole."

The students hauled steadily and cautiously, and slowly but surely
Messmer came out of the snowy hole. As his feet came into view it was
seen that a pair of hands were clasped around one of his ankles.

"Tom Hally is there!" shouted Dave. "Be extra careful, or he may slip
back!"

He had hardly spoken when Messmer's foot came up with a jerk. The
unfortunate boy below had let go, being probably too exhausted to keep
hold.

"Oh, Dave, what shall we do?" gasped Roger. He stood next in the life
line.

"Make two lines!" cried Dave. "Here, you get hold of one of my feet, and
Messmer can get hold of the other. Now don't let go, whatever you do.
I'll go down after Hally."

"But the danger----" began Ben.

"We can't leave Hally to smother to death there, Ben. Now then, hold
tight," answered Dave.

The two lines were formed, each end boy holding tight to one of Dave's
ankles. Then Dave threw himself down in the snow and wormed his way to
the edge of the hole. Several feet below he saw one of Tom Hally's hands
sticking up, the fingers working convulsively. He made a clutch and got
a firm grip of the wrist.

"Haul away!" he called. "But be easy, or the edge of the hole may cave
in!"

Under Dave's directions the boys hauled away with care, and presently
poor Tom Hally came to the surface of the snow, and was dragged to a
safe spot. He was all but exhausted, and too weak to stand.

"Here, we'll carry you to the school!" cried Roger, and he and some
others made a "chair," and thus the unfortunate lad was carried to Oak
Hall, where he was placed in a rocking chair in front of a fire.

"I went down all of a sudden," he explained, when he could talk. "I
yelled for all I was worth, and I saw some of you running towards me.
Then I went out of sight, and the next I knew Messmer's feet were on my
head. I caught hold of one foot and was dragged almost to the surface.
Then my strength gave out,--and I hardly know what I did after that."

"Dave pulled you out," answered Phil. "He saw one of your hands sticking
out of the snow, and he got us fellows to form two lines, with him on
the end."

"I am very thankful," said Tom Hally, and he gave Dave's hand a warm
squeeze. "I shall never go near that hollow again!"

"It's a dangerous place in the winter time," said Roger. "We should have
known better than to have retreated in that direction."

"Well, the Army of the Red won!" cried one of the students. "Say, wasn't
it a dandy battle!"

"It certainly was!" answered several others.

Doctor Clay was much alarmed to learn that Hally and Messmer had gone
down in a hole in the snow, and he came to see how the former was
getting along. Then he praised Dave and his chums for their bravery in
effecting a rescue.

In the past Hally, who was a rather silent student, had had little to
say to the other boys, but now he spoke to Dave, and asked him quite a
number of questions concerning himself and the other occupants of
dormitories Nos. 11 and 12.

"I'd like to be in with your bunch," said he, wistfully. "I don't like
our crowd very well."

"Where are you?" asked Dave.

"In No. 13--with Nat Poole and his crowd."

"They aren't very much of Nat's crowd any more, are they?"

"Oh, several boys still stick to him. But he makes me sick."

"Well, I am sorry, Hally, but our rooms are filled up," said Dave.

"Poole is down on you, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"He told me you and he had had a lot of trouble."

"So we have--but I claim it was mostly Nat's fault. He does some pretty
mean things."

"So he does, for a fact," and Tom Hally nodded earnestly. "He is down on
Maurice Hamilton too, isn't he?"

"Yes, but Shadow never did him any harm. It's just Nat's mean
disposition," returned Dave; and there the conversation had to come to
an end.

But that talk, coupled with the fact that Dave and his chums had so
bravely gone to Tom Hally's rescue, produced an unexpected result. Two
days later, when the occupants of dormitories Nos. 11 and 12 got up,
they were surprised to find, just inside of one of the doors, a big
pasteboard box, securely tied with a heavy cord.

"Why, what's this?" asked Phil, who was the first to see the box.

"Must be a Christmas box!" cried Dave. "And yet it is rather early in
the season for that."

"Is it addressed to anybody?" questioned Ben.

"Nothing on it," announced Roger, after an inspection. "Maybe the box
was placed in this room by mistake."

"Let us open it and see what is inside," suggested Polly Vane.

"I second that motion," added Luke. "Hope it's got some nice Christmas
pies in it."

"Maybe it's a trick," cautioned Shadow. "Go slow on opening it."

The boys pushed the box to the center of the dormitory with care, and
then Roger cut the cord with his pocketknife.

"You open it," said Phil to Dave.

"I am not afraid," answered Dave, and took off the cover.

And then what a shout went up!

"Our shoes, and boots, and slippers!"

"Where in the world did this come from!"

"Say, I thought my shoes were gone for good!"

"Are they all here?"

"I guess so. Let us sort 'em out and see."

Hastily the box was turned over, and the contents dumped on the floor.
Then began a general sorting out, lasting for several minutes.

"One of my gym. shoes is missing," announced Phil.

"Perhaps one of the other fellows has it," suggested Dave, and the
shipowner's son started a fresh search. But it was of no avail. Every
shoe, slipper, and boot that had been taken had been returned excepting
one of Phil's foot coverings.

"Well, I don't care much," said Phil. "These shoes were about worn out,
anyway."

"Where do you suppose this box came from?" asked Ben, and then he gazed
curiously at Shadow, and the others did the same.

"I--I suppose you think--that is, you imagine I--er--I had something to
do with this," stammered the boy who had on several occasions walked in
his sleep.

"Do you know anything about it, Shadow?" asked Dave.

"Not the first thing!"

"Did you dream of anything last night?"

"Yes, I dreamed about a--er--a----" stammered the sleep-walker.
"I--er----Oh, it wasn't about shoes, or anything like that."

"Well, what was it?" demanded Roger, sternly.

"It was about a party, if you must know. I dreamt I took a girl, and we
had a nice time dancing and playing games. There weren't any shoes in
it," and poor Shadow got redder than ever.

Dave looked the box over with care. It was a common pasteboard box, with
nothing on it in the way of writing or advertising.

"This certainly is a mystery," he said, slowly. "First the shoes
disappear, and now they come back. I give it up."

"Somebody has been playing a trick on us!" declared Roger. "The question
is, who?"

"I don't know of anybody who would do such a thing, excepting it was Nat
Poole," declared Ben.

"Well, there is no use of taxing Nat with it," declared Dave. "For he
would deny it point-blank, unless you could prove it against him."

The boys talked the affair over until it was time to go down to
breakfast, but they could reach no conclusion regarding the mystery.

"Maybe it will never be explained," said Buster.

"Well, even so, I am glad to get my shoes and slippers back," lisped
Polly Vane.

A few days after the restoration of the foot coverings there came a thaw
and then a sudden cold snap. Ice began to form on the river, and soon
it was thick enough for skating, much to the joy of the students, for
nearly all of them loved to skate. Some of the boys had ice-boats, and
these were also brought out for use.

"I understand that Rockville is going to put out a strong ice-hockey
team this winter," said Roger to Dave one day. "They are going to
challenge us, too."

"Well, we'll have to make up a team to beat 'em," answered Dave.

"That won't be so easy," declared another student. "They have some great
skaters and hockey players at the military academy this season. They've
got one player who is a star."

"Who is that?"

"Will Mallory. He came from down East, and he is the slickest ice-hockey
player you ever set eyes on."

"Well, if they challenge us we'll do our best," declared Dave, and some
others said the same.

The next day, after school, Dave had occasion to go to Oakdale on an
errand. Roger was going along, but at the last minute had to stay
behind, so Dave went alone.

He had scarcely passed out of the school grounds when he noticed that he
was being followed. A tall, thin man had stepped from behind some oak
trees, and was coming after him.

"I wonder what that chap was doing around the school?" the youth asked
himself.

He walked along rapidly, and the man did the same. Then Dave slackened
his pace, and the follower did likewise.

"He doesn't want to catch up to me, that's sure," thought the youth.
"Maybe he is afraid I'll recognize him. Wonder who he is?"

He turned and looked back. But the man had his overcoat pulled up and
his soft hat pulled far down, and Dave could see little of his face.

"This is a mystery," mused Dave. "I am going to speak to him," and he
stopped short and waited for the mysterious individual to come up.




CHAPTER XXIII

HOOKER MONTGOMERY'S STRANGE REQUEST


The stranger approached slowly, as if hoping Dave would go on before he
came up. Once he looked towards the fields on either side of the road,
as if thinking to turn off. But no side road was at hand, so he had to
either come on or turn back.

"Why, it is Doctor Montgomery!" said the lad to himself, as he
recognized the man. Then, as he got still closer, Dave saw that the
so-styled doctor looked shabby and dissipated. His nose was exceedingly
red, as if he had been drinking, and his overcoat was much worn and so
were his shoes.

"How do you do?" he said, somewhat gruffly, as he came up to where Dave
was standing.

"How are you?" returned Dave, coldly, and stepped aside, as if to let
the doctor pass. But instead of doing this the traveling physician came
to a somewhat unsteady halt.

"Your name is Dave Porter, isn't it?" he queried, trying hard to steady
a voice that liquor had rendered nervous.

"It is."

"I guess you know me, Doctor Montgomery."

"Yes."

"Going to Oakdale?"

"I am."

"So am I. If you don't mind I'll walk with you. I want to talk to you."

"What do you wish?" demanded Dave. The road was rather a lonely one, and
he did not fancy the doctor for a companion.

"I've been wanting to see you for some time, Porter," answered Hooker
Montgomery, hesitatingly, as if not knowing how to begin. "Fact is, I
went up to the school hoping to meet you."

"Why didn't you call for me if you wanted to see me?"

"Well--er--the fact is, Doctor Clay and I are not on good terms, that's
why. To tell you the truth, I once sold some of my medicines to some of
his hired help, and he didn't like it. He thinks my medicines are
not--er--reliable. But they are, sir, they are--more reliable than those
of most physicians!" And Hooker Montgomery tried to draw himself up and
look dignified. But, to Dave, the effort was a failure. He could read
the fellow thoroughly, and knew him to be what is commonly called a
fakir, pure and simple.

"What did you want of me?" asked Dave, as they walked on in the
direction of Oakdale.

"I wished to see you on an important business matter."

"Business? What business?"

"I will come to that presently, Porter. But it is important, very
important, I can assure you. I was going to ask you to call at a certain
place in Rockville and see me about it."

"What place?"

"A boarding-house at which I am stopping. It is a very nice place,
located on the river, and kept by a lady named Dunn--Mrs. Margaret
Dunn."

At once Dave remembered the letter picked up on Bush Island--the letter
written by Doctor Montgomery, and asking Jasniff to meet him at Dunn's
on the river. In that communication the doctor had said he would aid
Jasniff all he could, provided the Rockville student would assist him in
some transaction involving little risk--which would mean that there must
be something "shady" about it.

"Can't you explain the business to me without my going to Rockville?" he
asked.

"I cannot. I have some things at the boarding-house--some letters and
documents--I wish to show you. Day after to-morrow is Saturday. Can't
you come to Rockville in the afternoon and see me? I can assure you,
sir, it is very important, very important indeed!" And Doctor
Montgomery gave Dave a mysterious look.

"Do the letters and documents concern me personally?"

"They concern you, and--shall I tell you? Yes, I will! They concern you
and your sister. But don't ask me to say more now. I will explain all
when you come to see me."

Dave began to think rapidly. This fellow was friendly with Jasniff and
probably with Merwell also. Once Merwell had caused Laura Porter much
annoyance by holding certain letters she had written. Was it possible
Merwell still had some of her letters, and was he planning to make more
trouble because of them?

"I don't understand this business, Doctor Montgomery," he said, frankly.
"If it was so important why didn't you write to me, or telephone?"

"I will explain. This is important to you and your sister. It would hurt
your reputation to make anything public. I want to do things on the
quiet, see? Acting entirely in your interests, Porter. You will
understand it all when you call and--er--see the letters and documents,
and the photographs, especially the photographs."

"All right then--I'll come--if I can get off."

"About three o'clock in the afternoon?"

"Between three and four."

"Very good, sir, very good indeed. You will not regret coming, I can
assure you, sir. But one thing more. Let me caution you to say nothing
to your school friends of this visit. I wish you to come entirely
alone."

"Why alone?" demanded Dave, suspiciously.

"Because I wish to protect myself as well as you and your sister. I want
no witnesses to our meeting, as I wish to avoid all trouble. I shall be
alone, and I wish you to be alone also."

"This is a mighty strange proceeding."

"Possibly, Porter. But you will understand everything when you call. You
need not be afraid. At present I am the only boarder Mrs. Dunn has, and
she is old and somewhat deaf. The house is on the river road, the fourth
place above the sawmill. It is painted light yellow. You can't miss it."

"And you won't tell me any more at present?"

"I cannot. But on Saturday afternoon, if you will come to me alone, you
shall know all."

"Very well."

"And one thing more, Porter. I am going to do you and your family a
great favor."

"Well?"

"I am a poor man. I could have made money out of my remedies had I
charged as some physicians do, but instead I wished to aid humanity, and
so sold my priceless medicines for a song. Yes, I am poor, sir, and I
need money. If I aid you----" Hooker Montgomery paused suggestively.

"If you really do me a favor, you shall be well paid for it, Doctor
Montgomery," replied Dave, promptly.

"You mean that?" And now the doctor's voice took on a sudden note of
keen interest.

"I do."

"They tell me your folks are rich."

"We are well off."

"Ah, ahem! Very good! Then if I do a very great favor for you probably
you will--er--appreciate it."

"Yes, sir."

"Then it is settled, Porter, and I shall look for you about three
o'clock on Saturday sure. And you are to come entirely alone."

"I understand. But, listen, Doctor Montgomery," went on Dave, and his
voice grew stern. "There is to be no underhanded work in this. If there
is--well, you'll get the worst of it."

"Oh, no; nothing of that sort, I can assure you, sir! You have
absolutely nothing to fear," answered the man hurriedly, but his eyes
were rather shifty as he spoke.

"All right, I'll be on hand,--if I can get away."

They had now gained a crossroads, and here the doctor halted. He looked
at Dave as if on the point of speaking again, then simply jerked his
head in an attempted dignified fashion, and hurried off, around a bend
and out of sight.

It would be hard to analyze Dave's feelings as he proceeded on his
errand to Oakdale. He wondered if Doctor Montgomery was acting on his
own account or for Merwell and Jasniff, and he also wondered what the
mysterious letters and documents and photographs could be. Was it
possible that Laura had once given her photograph to Merwell, or had it
taken when in that rascal's company? If the latter was true, Merwell
would know that the Porters would give a good deal to get the picture,
and have the negative destroyed.