"THE PUTNAM HALL FOOTBALL TEAM,

"Per Fred Harrison, Secy and Treas."

Dick had suggested giving the cup, and all of the senior class
"chipped in"  willingly, raising ten dollars, with which a very
neat trophy was secured through a pupil whose father was a
silversmith in New York.  I say all the senior class contributed.
I must correct this.  There was one exception, and that was Dan
Baxter.

"I haven't got anything for you or your brothers," growled the
bully when Dick spoke of the matter before the class.  "Let 'em
furnish their own silver cups if they want 'em."

"All right, Baxter; I guess Sam and Tom will be just as well
satisfied if you don't chip in," had been Dick's ready answer.  "I
only wanted to give everyone a chance to own an equal share in the
gift, if it was desired."

"Our football team can't play for a sour apple, Dick Rover.
They'll be whipped out of their boots."

"If I was a betting boy, I'd bet you a dollar on the result,"
answered Dick coldly.

"I'll bet you ten dollars we win!" put in Fred Garrison
impulsively.

"I'll cover that bet," sneered Baxter, and drew from his pocket a
roll of bills.

"Gracious, Baxter, where did you get that wad?" questioned several
in chorus, for the supply of pocket money among most of the pupils
was limited.

"Never mind--I have it, and that's enough," answered Baxter, but
he lost no time in putting all of the money but the ten-dollar
bill away.

It was all Fred Garrison could do to scrape up an equal sum, and
even at that he had to borrow a dollar from Dick.  But he was
"game," and the money went to another pupil, who became
stakeholder until the contest should be decided.

"It's a shame!" cried Sam, when he heard of the transaction.  "To
bet against his own school!  I'm like Dick--I don't believe in
betting, and yet I am glad Fred took him up.  If it is in my
power, Baxter shall lose his wager."

Thanksgiving was but a week off, so the football team had to work
hard to get into proper condition.  Moreover, studies must not be
neglected, for Captain Putnam was strict, and would have canceled
the game had his cadets become unmindful of their school duties.
But the team got permission to get up an hour earlier than usual
every morning, and this time was spent in the hardest kind of
practice with the ball.

The report that Baxter had bet against his own school spread, and
the bully became more unpopular than ever.  But this did not daunt
him, and soon he had a dozen other bets on, aggregating fifty
dollars or more.

"It's a mystery to me where he gets so much money," said Dick to
Captain Blossom one day, "Is his father rich?"

"I can't tell you," answered the youthful commander of Company A.
"Fact of the matter is nobody knows much about Baxter--not even
Mumps his chum.  Nobody ever comes to see him, and he seldom ever
gets any letters, yet he always has all the spending money he
wants."

"Perhaps he's got a gold mine somewhere," laughed Dick.

"I don't know about that, but I do know that there are days when
he hasn't a cent, and the next day he will have just such a roll
of bills as you saw him with day before yesterday--and the money
doesn't come to him through the mail either."

"Perhaps Captain Putnam deals it out, to him."

Captain Harry shook his head.  "Not much!  The captain wouldn't
let him have more than five dollars at a time.  I've been through
the mill, and I know."

Here the matter was dropped, but Dick had good cause to remember
this conversation later on.

The distance from Putnam Hall to Pornell Academy was a mile and a
half, and it was arranged that the football team, Captain Putnam,
George Strong, and several others should ride to the latter place
in the Hall carriages while the others walked the distance.
Thanksgiving dawned bright and clear.  The morning was spent in
the Hall chapel, and dinner was served promptly at twelve.

"Don't eat too much," cautioned Sam.  "I want every player to be
wide awake today."

The start was signalized by a grand flourish of tin horns; and
away went the two carriages with the horses on a gallop, followed
by a large number of the cadets on foot, organized into their
regular companies, with Major Bart Conners at the head of the
battalion.  The boys were in their best uniforms, and certainly
presented an imposing appearance as they marched behind the music
of their drums and fifes.

When the grounds at Pornell Academy were reached, they were found
to be more than three quarters full, for the proprietor of the
place had opened up for the benefit of the public at large, and
many had come from Cedarville and the surrounding territory.  The
grandstand was already comfortably filled, many coming into the
part reserved for the Hall folks on tickets of invitation issued
by Sam and indorsed by Captain Putnam.

"Here they come!" yelled the boys of Pornell.  "Three cheers for
Putnam Hall!"

The cheers were given with a will; and, getting the football team
and the other cadets together, Putnam Hall gave a rousing cheer in
return for Pornell Academy.

Then the football teams disappeared into their respective dressing
rooms, and the newly arrived cadets took their places in the
grandstand.  A timekeeper and referee had already been appointed
by Sam and the rival captain, at a meeting at the Hall three days
before.

"My! what a crowd!" exclaimed Tom, as he surveyed the multitude.
"I didn't think we were going to have such an audience as this!"

"Nor I," returned Sam.  "We must do our level best, fellows!"

"That's what!" came from several.  "If we get whipped--"

"Remember what Baxter did--that's enough to nerve anybody on,"
finished Larry Colby.

"By the way, where is Baxter?"

"Sneaked out of the ranks," answered another player.  "Nobody
wanted to march with him."

"Well, I don't blame them," concluded Sam.

"Doctor Pornell now put in an appearance and desired to know if
the football team did not wish to march around the oval escorted
by his own players.

"Certainly!" cried Sam. "And to show this is a purely friendly
match, let us march side by side," he went on, and this was also
arranged.  The Putnam Hall drum-and-fife corps led the march, and
each player strode forth with a rival at his side.  The march
brought forth a wild round of applause and a veritable shrieking
of tin horns and cracking of wooden clappers.

After the march each team was allowed quarter of an hour for
practicing.  The Pornellites came out first and tumbled over the
leather in lively fashion.  The Putnamites soon followed.

"They may be all right, but they haven't the weight," said one of
the rivals.  And this appeared true, for each Pornellite, man for
man, was at least five pounds heavier than his opponent.  But
weight does not always count for everything, even in a football
match.

"Time for practice is up!" came presently, and the two teams drew
away from the gridiron.  Then there was a toss-up for goals, and
Pornell won and took the east end, that which was most favored by
the slight breeze that was blowing.

And then the great game began.




CHAPTER XVI

THE GREAT FOOTBALL GAME


The halves were to be of twenty minutes each, so no time was lost
in putting the leather into the field.  It was Putnam's kick-off,
and on the instant the ball went sailing into the air, to land
well into Pornell's territory.  Then came a grand rush, and before
the words can be put down twenty-two lads were at it nip-and-tuck
to get possession of the sphere.

"It's Pornell's ball!"

"Say, but ain't this going to be a snappy game!"

"Our fellows have the ball!"

"There she goes up five yards into Putnam ground!"

"Carry that ball back!" yelled Dick excitedly.  "Don't let them
gain an inch!"

"Whoop her up for Pornell!"

And then came a wild blare of tin horns and a waving of the
academy colors, brown and white.  The waving of the Hall colors,
an American flag set in a border of green, came also, with an
equal din from horns and wooden clappers.

"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!"

So, the game went on for ten minutes, and the Pornellites had
gained exactly twenty-five yards--no more.

"Looks like a stand-off," said several.  "Say, maybe those young
soldiers aren't game!"

"That's what--but we'll wax 'em!" was the answer, and then of a
sudden came another yell, for Pornell had the ball and was pushing
it straight ahead for Putnam's goal.

"Ten yards!"

"Five yards more!"

"Fifteen yards more!"

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!"

Toot! toot-a-root-toot! Clack-clack-clack, bang!

The Pornellites were now wild, but they stared blankly as they saw
plucky Tom Rover snatch the leather up and run back twenty yards
with it.

"He's going right through with it!"

"There goes Hardy after him!"

"Down they go!"

"Lushear has the ball!  It's going back!"

"Run, Lushear, run!  A dollar if you make it!"

"They can't catch him!  Oh, pshaw!  Down he goes!"

"But the ball is safe!  A touchdown!  Hurrah!"

The cry was correct.  Just three minutes before the end of the
first half the Pornell team scored a touchdown.  Instantly
preparations were made to kick a goal if possible.  But the kick
was a failure, and the two sides retired for the half with the
score standing 4 to 0 in Pornell Academy's favor.

Glumly the Hall boys retired to their dressing room, there to be
rubbed down by their chums.  "It's too bad, it certainly is," came
from a dozen sympathizers.

"But it can't be helped.  Don't give up yet."

"They are too heavy for us in mass play," said Sam.  "We must try
more running away with the leather."  And so it was agreed.

Soon the gong rang, and they re-entered the field.

"Now, Putnam Hall, do your best!  We are looking at you!"

"They can't play a little bit," sneered Dan Baxter.  "I'm ashamed
of them," and he smiled to himself, thinking the fifty dollars put
up on the game was already as good as won.

Sam had given his team some explicit instructions, and these were
now being followed.  As soon as the ball came into Putnam's
possession there was a run on their part that carried the sphere
twenty yards into their opponents territory.

"Go in and win, Putnam!"

"That's the way to do it!"

"Take it from them, Pornell!  Go for it!  Take it!"

And Pornell did take it, and half the distance gained was lost.

Both teams were now warmed up, and for fully five minutes the ball
flew back and forth, remaining at the end of that time almost in
the center of the gridiron.

Then Pornell tried some heavy mass play, but lost the leather on a
fumble, and it came into Tom Rover's possession.

Away flew Tom, as though a legion of demons were after him,
straight for Pornell's goal.  The crowd began to shout itself
hoarse.

"See Tom Rover!  Go it, Tom, old boy, go it!"

"He can't carry it through!  See, Conkey and Largren are after
him!"

"There he goes down!  Conkey has the leather!"

This was true, but ere Conkey could start to run Fred Garrison
brought him to earth and the ball rolled out into the field.

Sam and a Pornell halfback made a rush for it.

"My ball!" yelled the Pornellite, who was twenty pounds heavier
than the little captain.

"Not today!" retorted Sam, and snatched it from under his very
feet.  Before the Pornellite could recover from his astonishment,
Sam was pelting up the field with all the nimbleness of his agile
legs.

"Hurrah for Sam Rover!"

"Great Caesar! see him leg it!  They can't catch him!"

"There he goes over the line!"

"A touchdown!  The game is a tie!"

"Quick, fellows!" cried Sam. "Only five more minutes, remember.
Who is to kick?"

It was a player named Larcom.  But Larcom was not equal to it, for
the wind was rising and blowing in several directions at once.

"No goal!  The game is a tie!"

"Put the ball out again!"

"Only four minutes to play!"

Again the football went forth, and again the crowd pounced upon it.
The Pornellites were now desperate and massed themselves as never
before. They pushed forward ten yards--fifteen--twenty--almost
thirty. It looked as if they would score another touchdown, if not
kick a goal. But now Sam Rover sent a certain sign to his players. It
was taking a risk, but it was worth trying.

The ball came over to the right of the field and spun like
lightning to the left.  Fred caught it up, ran ten yards, and
passed it to Larry Colby, who turned it over to Tom.   Away it
went to Sam, and then to Frank.  The Pornellites were bewildered.
Where was the ball?

"Putnam has it!"

"There she goes!  Hurrah for Frank Harrington.  Another
touchdown!"

It was true.  Putnam Hall had scored another touchdown.  A
tremendous yelling and cheering broke out, in the midst of which
the gong sounded.  The game was over, and our boys had won the
victory.

In a twinkle the gridiron was covered with swarming students, and
Sam and his fellow players were hoisted up on willing shoulders,
to be trotted around the oval.  "Hurrah for Pornell!" they
shouted.  "Hurrah for Putnam!" came back the cry.  It had been a
bitter but friendly contest, and victors and vanquished shook
hands over and over again.

Of course many students of Pornell were bitterly disappointed, but
no one felt so sour over the whole afternoon's doing as did Dan
Baxter.  In all he had lost over fifty dollars, and now neither
his fellow students nor the boys of Pornell Academy wanted
anything to do with him.  "I haven't any use for a chap who bets
against his own crowd," was the comment of one academy student,
and he voiced the sentiment of all.  Only Mumps stuck to his chum,
and the two soon left the grounds together.

By four o'clock the cadets were on their way back to Putnam Hall,
the carriages moving behind the two companies of young soldiers,
who sang and shouted themselves hoarse as they moved along.  Even
Captain Putnam entered into the spirit of the affair.  "Brings me
back to the days when I was a cadet myself," he said to George
Strong.

Directly after supper a huge bonfire was lit on the playground,
and the students were allowed to have their own fun until eleven
o'clock.  The football team was, of course, the center of
attraction, and Sam and Tom came in for their full share of
honors.

While the festivities of this Thanksgiving Eve were at their
height, a sudden thought struck Dick.  Captain Putnam had given
the cadets permission to go beyond bounds if any cared to do so,
and he hurried away, his intention being to call upon Dora
Stanhope and see how she was faring.  Although Dick would not
admit it, he thought a great deal of Dora, and he was sorry that
she was in danger of having the detestable Josiah Crabtree for a
stepfather.

It was a clear, moonlight night, and he hurried off in the best of
spirits, taking a short cut by way of a road through the woods.
As he walked along he remembered how Tom had met in this vicinity
the thief who had stolen the watch.

"I wonder if I'll meet him," he thought, but no tramp put in an
appearance; indeed, he did not see a soul until the Stanhope
homestead was reached.

A light was burning brightly in the sitting room, and the curtains
were drawn down to within six inches of the bottom of the windows.
Dick was about to ascend the porch, when he changed his mind and
walked softly to one of the windows.

"If they have a lot of company I won't disturb them on a holiday
like this," he thought, and peeped under one of the curtains.

The sight that met his gaze filled him with astonishment and
indignation.  Only two persons were present, Dora and Josiah
Crabtree.  Crabtree had the girl by the left wrist, and had one
hand raised as if to strike his prisoner.




CHAPTER XVII

DICK AT THE STANHOPE COTTAGE


"The villain!"

Such were the words which sprang involuntarily to Dick's lips as
he gazed at the scene before him.  He was filled with bitter
indignation and could hardly resist the temptation to break in the
window and leap to Dora's assistance.

As he paused, he saw Dora push Crabtree back and leap to the
opposite side of the center table.

"Don't you dare to touch me, Mr. Crabtree!" came loud enough for
Dick to hear quite, plainly.

"I want you to behave yourself, young lady," stormed Josiah
Crabtree.

"I know how to do that without your advice."

"No, you don't.  You have set your mother against me.  If it
hadn't been for you, we would be married long ago."

"I believe a daughter has a right to advise her mother concerning
a stranger, Mr. Crabtree."

"A stranger!"

"Well, an outsider--if you like that better."

"I am no outsider.  I've known your mother for years.  I might
have married her, instead of your father doing so, if he hadn't
played an underhanded trick which--"

"Stop, Sir. You shall not say a word against, my father."

"Good for Dora!" thought Dick.  "She's the right kind."

"Your mother is quite willing to marry me, and as a dutiful
daughter you should bow to her wishes."

"Mother is not herself, Mr. Crabtree.  Ever since father died she
has been upset by business matters, and you have pestered the life
out of her.  If you would only go away for a month or so and give
her time to think it over, I am sure she would end this matter
between you."

"Tut, tut, child, you do not know what you are talking about!
Your mother has given me her word, and you ought to bow to the
inevitable."

"She has not yet married you, Sir, and until she is actually bound
to you there will still be hope for her."

"This is--is outrageous!" cried Josiah Crabtree wrathfully.  "Do
you think I will allow a mere slip of a girl to stand between me
and my plans?  Just wait until I am your father--"

"You shall never take the place of my dear dead father, Mr.
Crabtree--never!" and now Dora's eyes filled with tears.  "He was
ten thousand times better than you can ever be!"

"I must admit I can't see it.  He had not half the education I
possess," answered Josiah Crabtree conceitedly.

"Perhaps not, but he had an honest, warm heart, and that counts
for more than a mere book education.  I fancy many men are
smarter, even in book learning, than Mr. Josiah Crabtree; who
tried last week for an opening at Columbia College and failed to
meet the requirements."

"Ha! who told you that?"

"Mother told me."

"She is foolish to take you into her confidence.  It was not my
fault that I failed of the opening--merely the pig-headedness of
those having the matter in charge.  However, I do not care much.
As soon as your mother and I are married, I shall make some
changes here, put up a fine brick building, and open a rival
school to Putnam Hall."

"Gracious, here is news!" thought Dick.  "Wonder what Captain
Putnam will say to that?"

"Will you?" ejaculated Dora.  "And who will give you permission to
make alterations here?"

"Mrs. Crabtree--that is soon to be."

"Do you know that she holds this property in a trust for me, Mr.
Crabtree?  It will be hers only if I die before I become of age.
Her own shares of papa's estate is situated further up the lake,
at Berryport."

At this announcement Josiah Crabtree started back.  "You--you
are not telling the truth," he faltered.

"I am."

"But your mother is the executrix of your father's will."

"Yes."

"Exactly.  Consequently she has full control of all the property
until you are twenty-one."

"She has--but certain changes suggested by you or her would be
subject to the approval of the court or the surrogate, so I have
been told," answered Dora quietly.

Josiah Crabtree glared at the girl, and then began to pace the
floor impatiently.  "Dora, see here," he said finally.  "Let us
come to terms."

"What terms?"

"Your mother and I are bound to get married.  Remove your
opposition to this, and I will promise not to interfere with you
in the least.  You can do as you please and go where you please,
and you shall have all the spending money from time to time that
the estate can afford."

At this the girl's lip curled proudly. "I do not thank you for
your offer, Mr. Crabtree.  The whole difficulty is just here--I
do not like you; and my mother shall never marry you so long as I
can prevent it."

"You--you saucy minx!" he snarled and leaping around the table caught
her by the wrist again. "I'll tame you before I am done with you, mark
my words! If you dare to talk to your mother again--Hullo, who is
this?"

"Dick Rover!" cried Dora in amazement and in delight.

For Dick had suddenly thrown up the window sash, which was
unlocked, and leaped straight into the sitting room.

"Let her go, Josiah Crabtree!" ordered the young cadet.  "Don't
you dare to strike her, or I'll knock you flat!"

"One of the Rover boys!" muttered the ex-teacher.  "What business
have you here at this hour of the evening?  Have you run away from
the Hall?"

"Since you have been discharged, I do not feel called upon to
answer your question," answered Dick.  "But you must let Dora
alone, or there will be a broken head around here, I can tell you
that!"

At Dick's plain words Josiah Crabtree greatly paled.  He had
dropped the girl's wrist and now he fell back several steps.

"I was not harming the girl, only trying to reason with her."

"Oh, I know you well enough.  I've heard you were the most
pigheaded teacher they ever had at Putnam Hall," rejoined Dick
warmly.  "I shall take pains to let Mrs. Stanhope know what they
think of you, too."

"Was he discharged?" asked Dora.  "He told mamma that he had left
of his own accord."

"He was discharged," answered Dick, who had got word through Peleg
Snuggers.

"It is not true!" stormed Josiah Crabtree.  "This is a--a plot
to injure me in the eyes of Mrs. Stanhope, and you shall pay
dearly for it, boy!" and he shook his fist in Dick's face.

"Don't do that again, Mr. Crabtree, or we may have a set-to right
here--begging Dora's pardon," answered Dick, his eyes flashing
fire.

"That's all right--don't give in an inch to him, Dick,"
whispered Dora.  "I hate him--oh, more than words can tell!" and
she caught the youth's arm.

"I am not afraid of you, boy!" was the short return, but now the
ex-teacher turned to the hallway.  "I was on the point of leaving,
and now I will go, Dora.  But I will be back in a day or two," and
he strode from, the room.  A moment later he had secured his hat
and overcoat and taken his departure.

"Oh, what a dreadful man!" sobbed Dora, when he was gone.  "Dick
Rover, what shall I do?"  and she looked at him pleadingly.

"It's a puzzle to me, Dora--worse than an example in cube root
in algebra!" He smiled sadly.  "But if I was you I'd hold out and
never let him marry my mother."

"Oh, I will never consent to that--never!  But he may marry her
anyway."

"If he does, you can apply to the courts for another guardian--if
Crabtree doesn't treat you fairly."

"But I do not wish to separate from my mother."

"Well, the only thing to do is to keep fighting him off.  In the
meantime I'll try to get some folks who know Crabtree well to tell
your mother just what a mean, crabbed fellow he is.  Undoubtedly
he is after the money your father left."

"So I always supposed--but mother does not think so."

"How is your mother?"

"She is doing nicely, and may be out in a week or two.  I am
keeping her in as long as possible, so that Josiah Crabtree cannot
argue her into going off and getting married."

"You certainly have your hands full, Dora," answered the young
cadet.  "I wish I could take this burden off your shoulders,
indeed I do!" and impulsively he caught up her plump, hand and
kissed it.

"Oh!"  She snatched the hand away and blushed prettily, but was not
angry.  "I--I--;  it's something to know one has a friend,
Dick," she said softly.  "Can I come to you if I--that is if I
want something done?"

"To be sure, Dora--I'll do anything in the wide world for you
there!" and he kissed her hand again.

At that moment an elderly lady who had been hired to wait on Mrs.
Stanhope came in, and the conversation was changed.  Dora asked
about life at the Hall, and Dick told of the football game and of
the parts Tom and Sam had played in it.

"You are a great set of boys!" Dora smiled.

"I wish I had a couple of sisters."

"You have your two cousins, Nellie and Grace."

"Yes, but they are not as intimate as sisters would be--although
they are the best of cousins."

"What does Mr. Laning say of Crabtree?" Dick whispered, as the
nurse left the room for a moment.

"Uncle does not like him, but he says the whole matter is none of
his affair--and mother must do as she thinks best."

It was now growing late, and Dick took his departure, kissing
Dora's hand a third time as they stood in the darkness of the
porch.  "You're terrible!" she murmured, but it is doubtful if she
meant anything by it.  Girls and boys are about the same the world
over and Dick's regard for Dora was of the manly sort that is
creditable to anybody.




CHAPTER XVIII

WINTER SPORTS


"Hurrah, boys, the ice is forming just as fast as it can!  We'll
have skating in twenty-four hours!"

It was Sam who came rushing into the gymnasium with the news.  The
place was crowded at the time, for it was too cold to play on the
grounds outside.

"Skating!" cried Tom.  "That just suits me.  I wonder if I brought
my skates along?"

"You didn't," answered Sam.  "Neither did I."

"I have my skates," said Fred Garrison.  "Brand new pair."

"My skates were old," said Tom.  "I must strike Captain Putnam for
a couple of dollars of my allowance and buy a new pair."

"So must I!" put in Sam.  "Dick, I know, has his skates."

It was early in December, and it had been growing colder steadily.
There had been one fall of snow, but it had amounted to but
little.

The next day skating in the cove of the lake near Putnam Hall was
excellent, the ice being from three to four inches thick.  At once
Sam and Tom went to Captain Putnam.

"Want to buy some skates?" said the captain.  "Well, the money I
am keeping is your own, and I presume every boy likes to skate.
Here are two dollars for each of you.  Show me your purchases when
you get back."

"We will," replied the lads, and hurried off, for time was
precious, with the smooth ice waiting for them.  They knew that a
certain hardware dealer in Cedarville had a good quantity of
skates on hand, and started to walk to the village without delay.

"Baxter is going to buy a pair of skates, too," said Sam, on the
way.  "I heard him telling Mumps about it."

"Well, we don't want Baxter for company," answered Tom.  "He can
go alone."

It did not take the lads long to reach Cedarville, but once at the
hardware store considerable time was lost in getting just the
skates desired.

"It's queer Baxter hasn't shown up," said Tom, when they were
ready to leave.

"Perhaps he went elsewhere for his skates," suggested Sam.

The hardware shop was at the end of the village street, and as
they passed a number of places of business Tom suddenly caught his
brother by the arm.

"There is Baxter now--just entering that tavern!" he exclaimed
in a low voice.

"The tavern!" repeated Sam.  "Why, it's against the regulations to
enter a drinking place!"

"I don't care--I saw Baxter go in," returned Tom.  "He was with
a tall man."

"If Captain Putnam hears of this, Baxter will be sent away, or at
least punished."

"Perhaps, Sam; but I shan't tell him."

"No; we're no tale-bearers.  Let us go up to the side windows of
the tavern and see if we can see them."

This was agreed to, and the two boys hurried up to first one
window and then another.

"They are not in the saloon part, that's certain," said Tom
blankly.  "But I saw Baxter go in, and the tall man with him."

"Here is a side room," answered Sam.

"And there they are, at a corner table.  The man is giving Baxter
some money!"

Tom peeped into the window over his brother's shoulder.  "My
gracious!"

"What's up now, Tom?"

"That tall man is the same fellow I met in the woods.  The man
that was with the tramp who stole the watch!"

"You don't mean it!"

"But I do!  See the scar on his chin?"

"Yes."

"He is that thief's pal, as they call it."

"And he just gave Baxter some bank bills!  What does it mean?"

"I give it up.  But I know one thing--that man ought to be
arrested!"

"That's true.  Oh! they have seen us!  If they--hi! what do you
mean by that?"

For a burly bartender had suddenly come up behind both of the boys
and hurled them backward.

"No spying around this place!" cried the dispenser of liquors
roughly.  "Take yourselves off!"

"There is a man inside I want to see," said Tom.

"Why don't you come in, then?"

"I will--as soon as I can find a policeman or a constable."

"What! going to have a gent arrested?"

"The man inside knows all about a stolen watch."

"You must be mistaken."

"No, I am not.  Where can I find a policeman?"

"Down at the steamboat landing, most likely."

"All right.  Sam, you stay here and see that that fellow don't
make tracks," and Tom prepared to move away.

"See here, we don't want any trouble in our place," said the
barkeeper.  "We run a respectable house, we do."

"Then you ought to help me bag the pal of a thief," retorted Tom.

"Hold on, Tom!" came from Sam.  "They're gone!  They slipped
through a back door!"

Tom ran up to the window again.  It was true Baxter and the man
with a scar had disappeared.

"Come on back!" he cried to his brother, and both ran to the rear
of the tavern. Here there was a yard, at the end of which stood a
barn and a long, low carriage shed.  Only a negro hostler was in
sight.

"Perhaps they haven't come out yet," began Sam, when he caught
sight of a buggy on a road behind the barn.  It was going at a
furious rate, the scarred man driving, and lashing his mettlesome
horse at the same time.

"There goes the man!"

"That's so. Where is Baxter?"

"I don't know."

They ran after the buggy, but soon gave up the chase, as man and
turnout disappeared around a bend leading to the woods back of
Cedarville.

"We've lost him!" murmured Tom, when he could get back his breath.
"Now who in the name of Old Nick can he be?"

"Evidently a friend to Baxter.  Perhaps he  is Baxter's father?"
suggested Sam.

"Baxter's father--Gracious!  He is!"

"How do you know?"

"I'm not positive, but when I met him and the thief in the woods,
the thief, who was called Buddy, started to call that fellow
Baxter, but the tall man wouldn't have it, and made him call him
Nolly.  His right name, I feel certain, is Arnold Baxter."

"Then, if he isn't Baxter's father, he must be some close
relative, otherwise he wouldn't give Baxter that money.  Now it is
easy to see where the bully gets all of his cash.  That tall man
must be rich."

"Yes, but who knows how he comes by his money?  He is the chum of
a thief, that's certain."

A search was made for Dan Baxter, but he could not be found.  As a
matter of fact, he had been in the buggy, hiding under the seat.
The boys hung around for quarter of an hour longer, and then
resolved to return to Putnam Hall.

"No use of making a row about it," said Tom.  "I remember that
policeman at the steamboat landing.  He is a terribly fat fellow
and evidently a hard drinker.  He couldn't help us enough.  We had
better try to work this out on our own account.  I'll tackle
Baxter the first chance I get."

When the Hall was reached they looked around for the bully, but
found he had not returned.  They had now to go in for their
studies, and for the time being the affair was dropped.

That afternoon found them on the lake, and while enjoying the
skating Dick was informed of what had occurred.  "A bad crowd,"
said the elder Rover.  "Yes, tackle Baxter, by all means.  But be
cautious what you say, for you can't prove much, remember."

A race had been arranged between the boys, and Dick was one of the
contestants.  The distance was from one end of the cove to the
other was a little over three-quarters of a mile.  There were ten
starters, including Fred, Frank, Larry, and Mumps.  Mumps had a
reputation as a skater, gained at his home on the Hudson River.

"All ready?" shouted the starter.

There was a dead silence.

"Go!" came the word, and away went the ten, their skates flashing
brightly in the setting sun.  Soon Larry Colby was in advance,
with Mumps just over his shoulder.

"It is Larry's race!"

"Mumps is a close second!"

"Shake 'em up, Fred!  What are you lagging about, Frank?  Go it,
Leo!"

Skirk skirk skirk went the skate runners, and now a crowd of lads
started in pursuit of the racers.  Soon the turning point was
gained.  Larry was in advance still, but now Mumps overtook him,
and suddenly the boy from the Hudson who had such a reputation as
a racer shot fifteen feet in advance.  It looked as if the race
was certainly his, and Larry and the others felt much downcast.




CHAPTER XIX

THE SKATING RACE--DAN BAXTER IS CORNERED


The wind had been with the racers thus far, but as one after
another of the skaters turned the mark they found the wind now
full in their faces, and it was blowing freshly.

"Mumps will win beyond a doubt!" was the cry, as the lad from the
Hudson River forged still further ahead.

"My skate is loose!" cried Larry, and a second later the skate came
off and flew fifty feet away.

By this time Dick and Fred were coming up, slowly but surely.  It
seemed to be nip-and-tuck between them, and the friends of each
cheered wildly.

"Go it, Dick; you can come in second anyway!"

"Make him follow you, Fred!  You can do it if you try!"

On and on went the racers, Mumps still ten feet ahead, Fred and
Dick side by side, and the others in a bunch just back of them.

But the strain was now beginning to tell upon Mumps, who had
pushed himself too much from the start.  Halfway to the finish
from the turning point Dick and Fred began to crawl up, until they
were less than a yard behind him, one at either hand.

"Go it, Mumps!  They are catching you!"

Mumps did try to increase his speed, but his wind was gone and he
could hardly strike out.  The finish was now in sight, and the
boys began to shout on every side:

"Go it, every one of you!"

"Hurrah! Mumps, Dick, and Fred are a tie!"

It was true the three boys were side by side.  But presently both
Dick and Fred made extra efforts and forged ahead.

"It's your race, Fred!"

"It's yours, Dick!"

But it was neither's race--for with a shout both whizzed over
the line at the same instant.

"A tie!"

"And Mumps ain't in it!"

"Three cheers for Dick and Fred!" shouted Frank Harrington, and
the cheers were given with a will.  By this time the play hour was
over, and all of the skaters rushed back to the Hall, to get ready
for the drill previous to supper.  It is needless to add that each
lad brought an extra big appetite with him.

All of the Royer boys noticed that Dan Baxter did not turn up at
roll call, nor did the bully put in an appearance that night.
"Got a day off," said Mumps, but that was all he could tell.

Late on the following day Tom was walking toward the gymnasium
when he caught sight of Baxter just entering the school grounds.
He at once ran toward the bully.

"Baxter, I want to have a talk with you," he said sharply, as he
looked the bully squarely in the face.

"Do you?" was the uneasy answer.  "All right, fire ahead."

"Hadn't you better come up to the dormitory?  We can have it all
to ourselves, for the others are either in the gymnasium or on the
lake."

"Well, I was going up to our dormitory anyway," answered Baxter,
and stalked off, leaving Tom to follow him.  Once they were in the
dormitory occupied by the bully and his set, Baxter locked the
door.

"Now out with what you have got to say, and be quick about it," he
growled.

"I want to know who that man was, you met in the tavern in
Cedarville."

"Didn't meet any man in particular.  Met half a dozen in general."

"You know the man I mean--the tall fellow, with a scar on his
chin."

"Oh, that fellow?  I think his name is Nolly.  He's a book agent,
and I promised to buy some histories from him," and Baxter
pretended to yawn, as if he was not especially interested.

"You are not telling the truth, Baxter," answered Tom, undaunted
by this show of nerve.

"Do you mean to say I lie, Rover?  Take care, or you may be sorry
for what you say!"

"You can't pull the wool over my eyes, Baxter.  That man's name is
no more Nolly than mine is George Washington or yours William
McKinley."

"Isn't it?  Then perhaps you know his real name."

"I do.  His name is Arnold Baxter."

Had a bomb exploded at Baxter's ear he would not have appeared
more astonished.

"Say, who told you that?" he demanded fiercely and caught Tom by
the arm.

"Let go of me, Dan Baxter."

"I say, who told you that?"

"I heard his name in the woods.  He was with the man who robbed my
brother Dick of his watch, when we were at home."

"Stuff and nonsense!" growled the bully, but he was very pale, and
his voice shook with emotion.  "That man's name is William Nolly.
He used to know my father.  That is why I helped him along by
giving him an order for the histories.  I don't really want the
books."

"If you was helping him, how is it that Sam and I saw you taking a
roll of bills from him down at the tavern?"

Again Baxter started.  "You didn't see no such thing!" he roared,
regardless of his grammar.  "I--that is--he gave me some
change, that is all.  Here are the books I bought," and he pointed
to a package he had been carrying.

"It's a made-up story," retorted Tom.  "He gave you money, and my
opinion is that that man is your father, and that he is no better
than the man with whom he associates."

The words had scarcely left Tom's lips than Baxter leaped upon
him--like an enraged animal and hurled him to the floor. "I've a good
mind to--to kill you for that, Rover!" he hissed. "Take it back, or
I'll choke you to death!" and his strong hand sought Tom's throat.

"Will you!" came in a gasp, and now Tom turned over and threw the
bully to one side.  "I guess two can play at this game.  Take
that!" and he struck Baxter a heavy blow on the side of the face.
In a moment they had clinched and were trying their best to throw
each other.

Suddenly came a rattle of the door knob.  "Boys! Boys!  What does
this mean?" It was George Strong's voice.  "Open the door
instantly."

"Keep your mouth shut!" whispered Baxter, as he again shook his
fist in Tom's face.  "Not one word--on your life!"

Then he disengaged himself, adjusted his collar and tie, which had
become rumpled, and unlocked the door.  At once the head assistant
strode into the dormitory.

"Have you two been fighting?" he demanded.

"We were only boxing a bit, sir," answered Baxter, before Tom
could speak.  "No harm intended, sir."

"You were making a good deal of noise," answered George Strong
dryly.  "What have you to say, Rover?"

"I have this to say, Mr. Strong," answered Tom boldly.  "I would
like to interview Captain Putnam without delay."

"Don't you dare--" began Baxter, when a wave of the teacher's
hand cut him, short.

"About what, Rover?"

"About this affair, and about Baxter, sir.  I am not a telltale,
but certain things have happened which I think Captain Putnam
should know for his own sake and for the reputation of his
school."

"You--you imp!" hissed Baxter.  He wanted to spring at Tom, but
now George Strong caught him and held him fast.

"Baxter, you had best come with me--and you too, Rover."

"To see Captain Putnam?" queried Tom.

"Yes."

"I don't want to go," blustered the bully.  "Let Rover tell his
yarn--I don't care.  It will be only another of his lies."

"Then you shall go to the guardroom," said the teacher.  "Rover,
you may go to see the captain alone."

"I will sir--at once," and Tom made away.  He had no sooner
departed than George Strong marched Baxter off to the guardroom
previously described.  As the pair passed down the stairs they
encountered Mumps coming up.

"Hullo, Dan, what does this mean?" asked Mumps in wonder.

"I'm under arrest," laughed Baxter bitterly.  "And for nothing,
too."

"Silence!" commanded George Strong.  "If you have done nothing
wrong, you will soon be released."

"You bet I will," rejoined Baxter insolently, and then, watching
his chance, he made a sign which Mumps well understood.  The sign
meant "Come and help me if you can."

Mumps nodded to show that he understood.  Then he pretended to go
up to the dormitory, while the head teacher conducted Baxter to
the guardroom, locked the impudent one in, and walked away with
the key.




CHAPTER XX

THE BULLY LEAVES PUTNAM HALL


"So you wish to see me, Rover?  Very well, come right in and sit
down," said Captain Putnam, who sat in front of his desk, making
up some of his accounts for the month just past.

Tom came in and sat down.  It must be confessed he was a trifle
nervous, but this soon wore away.

"I came to tell you something and to ask your advice," he began.
"You remember what happened to me when I ran away into the woods
just after arriving at the Hall?"

"Very well, Thomas," and the captain smiled.

"Well, when Sam and I went to Cedarville to buy our skates we saw
Dan Baxter in the tavern there, in company with the man with a
scar on his chin.  This man gave Baxter some bank bills."

"What!  At the tavern?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Please tell your story in detail, Rover," and now Captain Putnam
swung around so that he might get a full view of his pupil's face.

And Tom told his story from beginning to end just as I have set it
down in the foregoing pages.

"I am certain this man is some relative of Baxter," he concluded.
"And I am equally certain he is not an honest fellow."

"Humph!" Captain Putnam arose and began to pace the heavily
carpeted floor.  "Rover, this is a serious charge."

"I understand that, Sir.  But you can't blame us boys for trying
to get back Dick's watch and trying to--to--"

"Bring the guilty party to justice?  Certainly not!  But it would
seem the man with a scar is not the thief."

"No, but he is the boon companion of the thief."

"That is true--unless there is some grave mistake.  But you are
right about one thing, the man is really Baxter's father, and his
name is Arnold Baxter."

"And why does he travel around under the name of Nolly?"

"That is the mystery.  I met Mr. Baxter only once--when he
placed his son in my care.  At that time I was certain he was
wearing a wig and a false mustache.  The scar was on his chin,
although he tried to hide it.  I have never seen him since.  When
any money is due from him he sends it to me by mail and does not
ask for any receipt.  I once asked Baxter about his parents, and
he said his mother was dead and he didn't know exactly where his
father was, as the latter was a great traveler and went
everywhere."

"I see."

"If you are right, and the man is a rascal, it is to his credit
that he is trying to bring his son up as a gentleman.  Perhaps he
doesn't want Daniel to know anything of the past.  Do you follow
me?"

"I do, sir.  But if this is so, would he take his son into the
tavern?"

"Perhaps--everybody is not so opposed to drinking as I am."

"Well, if Mr. Baxter is a bad man, I rather think Dan is a chip of
the old block," rejoined Tom bluntly.  "But be that as it may, all
I want to get hold of is that thief and Dick's timepiece."

"I will question Baxter closely," answered Captain Putnam.  "But I
do not wish to hold him guilty of something of which most likely
he knows nothing."

George Strong had by this time come in, and he was sent to bring
Baxter.  He was gone but a few minutes when he came back in high
excitement.

"Baxter has broken out of the guardroom!" he, exclaimed.  "I
cannot find him anywhere!"

"Did you look in the dormitory?"

"Yes, sir; and his valise is gone, and his trunk is empty of all
of value."

"Humph!" Captain Putnam's brow contracted.  "This looks very
suspicious."

At that moment one of the smaller cadets came in with a note in
his hand.

"I just met Baxter running down the road!" exclaimed the little
fellow.  "He gave me this for you, Captain Putnam."

At once the proprietor of the Hall tore open the communication and
read it half aloud:

"Good-by to Putnam Hall forever.  It is full of fellows who are no
good and run by a man I never liked.  No use of following me, for
I am going to join my father, and I don't mean to come back.

"DAN BAXTER

"P. S.--Tell the Rover boys I shan't forget them, and some day I
shall take pains to square accounts.

                  "D. B."

"The foolish boy," was the captain's comment.  "But perhaps he has
done what is best, for it might have been necessary to dismiss
him."  For a long while those at the Hall wondered how Baxter had
escaped.  Only Mumps knew and he kept the secret to himself.  A
duplicate key to the door of the guardroom had done the trick.

As Baxter was not followed, nothing more was spoken of him for the
time being, and after several days the cadets settled down to
their regular work as though nothing out of the ordinary had
occurred.  A hunt was instituted by Dick for Arnold Baxter and
Buddy the thief, but no trace of the pair came to light.

The Christmas holidays were now at hand and the closing days at
Putnam Hall were given over to several entertainments.  One of
these consisted of a stage performance of a play called "A
Christmas in a Tenement," given by twelve of the boys.  Three of
the lads, including Tom, took female parts, and the audience
laughed itself sore over the antics that were cut up.

Many living in the vicinity came to the entertainment; including
all of the Lanings and also Dora Stanhope and her mother; who was
now almost as well as ever.

"It was fine!" said Nellie Laning to Tom.  "But, oh, Tom, what a
girl you did make!"

"Wouldn't you like me for a sister?" queried Tom.

"A sister!  Oh, dear!" cried Nellie, and began to laugh again.

"You looked like a female giraffe!" put in Grace Laning.  "Sam
acted a little boy splendidly.  Sam, don't you want a stick of
candy?"

"Yes, mammy, please," squeaked Sam, just as he had on the stage,
and another laugh went around.

In the meantime Dick had drawn Dora to one side.  "What is the
news?" he asked anxiously.

"Nothing new," sighed Dora.  "Josiah Crabtree has gone to Boston
on business.  I am afraid I cannot keep that marriage off much
longer.  He seems bound to marry mother, and even if she feels
like drawing back she hasn't the courage to tell him so."

"It's a shame," murmured Dick.  "Well, remember what I said, Dora,
if I can ever help you I will."  And he squeezed her hand.  Before
they separated he gave her a silk handkerchief he had purchased at
Cedarville, one with her initial in the corner, and she blushingly
handed over a scarf made by herself.  Dick was very proud of that
scarf, although Tom and Sam teased him about it unmercifully.

Of course the boys had received letters from their uncle and aunt
regularly, yet they watched eagerly for the hour that should bring
them within sight of the farm with its well-known buildings.  The
journey to Oak Run proved uneventful, and here Jack, the hired
man, met them with the carriage.

"Glad to see you, lads," he said--with a grin.

"Seems quite natural like."

"So it does, Jack!" cried Tom.  "Let 'em out, for we want to get
home!"

The snow was falling, and by the time the farmhouse was reached it
was several inches deep.  "We're in for a sleigh ride before we go
back," said Sam.

Their uncle and aunt stood at the door to receive them.  "Welcome
home!  Merry Christmas!" came from both, and each of the boys gave
a warm handshake to Randolph Rover and hearty kiss to their Aunt
Martha.  Past troubles were all forgotten.

This was Christmas Eve, and the boys stayed up late, cracking nuts
by the blazing log fire and having a good time generally.

In the morning Dick was the first one awake.

"For gracious' sake!" he ejaculated, staring at the chimney piece.
"There hung his own stocking and also one each belonging to Tom
and Sam.  Each was filled with goodies such as he knew only his
Aunt Martha could make.

"Sam and Dick, wake up, we've struck a bonanza!" he cried, and
hauled both from under the covers.  All laughed heartily, and
marched down to the dining room with the stockings over their
shoulders.

"A merry Christmas to Uncle Randolph from all of us," said Tom,
handing over a much coveted volume on agriculture.  "And a merry
Christmas to Aunt Martha from three bad boys," added Sam, and
turned over a fancy work-basket, both presents having been
purchased at Ithaca on the journey home.

"Ha!  Just what I desired!" said Randolph Rover, adjusting his
spectacles.  "I am very much obliged, boys--I am, indeed!"

"Such a pretty basket!" murmured Mrs. Rover.  "It was very good of
you!" and she, hugged each lad in his turn.  Then came more
presents--neckties, collars, and gloves for the boys, besides a
book for each written by a favorite juvenile writer.

"The snow is two feet deep!" said Dick, after an inspection, when
breakfast had come to an end.  "We're booked for the house today!"

"We'll wait until afternoon," said Mr. Rover.

It was a happy time, even if they were snowed in.  Soon the warm
sun came out and brought the snow down a little.  "Best kind of
sleighing now," said the hired man, and drove around the biggest
sleigh on the place.  All tumbled in, and the party did not return
until after midnight.




CHAPTER XXI

SOMETHING ABOUT THE PAST


During holiday week the boys took occasion to tell their uncle all
of the particulars concerning the tramp called Buddy, Arnold
Baxter, and his son the bully.  It is needless to state that
Randolph Rover listened to their story with interest.

"I would like to meet this man with a scar on his chin," he said.
"Speaking of him reminds me of something that happened years ago."

"What was it, Uncle Randolph?" questioned Tom.

"Your father had an enemy who had a scar on his chin."

"What!" cried Sam.  "Could it have been this Arnold Baxter?"

"Hardly, although such a thing is possible.  This man was a
Westerner, and laid claim to some property owned by your father.
They had a quarrel, and the fellow shot your father in the arm and
then ran away.  I never learned any of the particulars."

"Arnold Baxter and this Buddy spoke about a mining claim, and
about some papers," burst out Tom.  "I'd like to wager he is the
same chap!"