Stratemeyer Edward
Dave Porter's Return to School. Winning the Medal of Honor

CHAPTER VI
JOB HASKERS'S BAD NIGHT

After that the farmer questioned the boys further concerning their visit to his home and at last drew from the students their whole story. When they acknowledged that they wanted to play a joke on Job Haskers he smiled broadly.

"I know that man," he said. "He wanted to buy some apples and potatoes here once, to ship to some of his folks, and he was so close and mean about it, I wouldn't sell him anything. Go ahead and play your joke on him, and I won't say anything about it."

"And you won't say anything about our visit here?" questioned Roger, eagerly.

"Not a thing – unless, of course, it becomes absolutely necessary to do so."

"You're a brick, Mr. Lapham," cried Dave, much relieved. "We'll do all we can to help you catch those burglars."

"That we will," added Shadow.

"I am afraid we'll never catch them, boys. The constable here is no good, and I don't know where to look for them," responded the farmer.

A few minutes later found the students on the return to Oak Hall, Dave carrying the cage full of bats.

"That was a narrow escape," was Shadow's comment, as they hurried along to make up for lost time. "I thought sure he'd report the matter to Dr. Clay."

"To think we should run into a burglary!" declared the senator's son.

"I wonder if the same fellows robbed Mr. Lapham who committed the robbery at Oakdale?"

"It is more than likely. I hope they catch the fellows."

It did not take the three youths long to reach the academy grounds. Roger slipped in ahead and was gone five minutes.

"Hurry up – the coast is clear!" he whispered, on coming back. "The side door is open and nobody on the stairs, so far as I could see."

They ran across the campus, Dave with the cage full of bats still in his hand. They had almost reached the door when they heard it slam shut. Then the key was turned and the bolt shot into place.

"We're locked out!" whispered Shadow, in consternation.

"Let us try the other doors," suggested Dave.

They did this, making the entire round of the school building. Every door was shut and locked, even that to the kitchen addition being tight.

"Now we are in a pickle and no mistake," groaned the senator's son.

"I suppose the other fellows have gotten tired of waiting for us and gone to bed," said Shadow. "We've been away an hour and a half longer than we expected."

"One thing is certain, we must get into the Hall somehow," said Dave. "We can't stay out here all night."

"Let us go around under one of our windows," said Roger.

They were soon under a window of Dormitory No. 12. It was open from the top to admit the fresh air. All was dark in the school building and they had only the starlight to guide them.

Gathering up a handful of pebbles, Dave threw them at the window and Roger and Shadow followed suit. At first nobody paid attention to this. Then the window was raised from the bottom and the head of Phil appeared.

"Hello you!" he called softly. "Thought you were going to make a night of it."

"We were delayed," answered Dave. "All the doors are locked. Can't you open one for us?"

"I'll see."

Phil's head disappeared, and then Sam Day and Buster Beggs showed themselves.

"Got the bats?" asked Sam.

"Yes."

"Where are they?"

"Here, in this cage."

"Good enough!"

The boys below waited fully five minutes after that. Then Phil appeared once more.

"It's pretty risky to open a door," he announced. "Mr. Dale is below, and so are Pop Swingly and one or two others. I think they are watching for somebody."

"I hope they are not watching for us," returned Shadow, with a shiver.

"No, I think they are looking for some other fellows who went out."

"Here's a fishing line," said Sam. "You can send up the bats on that, if you like. Then if you are caught, they won't find out what you were after."

"A good idea," answered Dave, and tied the cage to the end of the line. Soon the bats were hauled up to the dormitory and stowed away in a safe place.

"I wish we could go up on the line too," said Shadow, wistfully.

"We can get a ladder from the barn and go up, if you say so," suggested Roger. "Only, what will we do with the ladder afterwards?"

"The ladder would expose us," said Dave. "I've got a plan. Take the bed sheets and make a rope of them, and we'll haul ourselves up somehow."

The charm of this idea took instantly, and those in the dormitory set to work to knot together five or six sheets without delay. Then one end was held fast while the other was dropped to the ground.

"Will it hold?" questioned Roger. "We don't want to break our necks."

"I'll try it," said Dave, and began to mount the improvised rope hand over hand, bracing his feet against the brick and stone building as he did so. As the youth was a pretty good athlete he had small trouble in gaining the top and hopping into the dormitory. Then Shadow came up, followed by the senator's son, and the bed sheets were hauled back and separated. The sheets were somewhat mussed from the strange usage, but that was all.

The other boys wanted to know what had kept Dave and his companions so long, but it was too late to relate the whole story.

"We can tell it in the morning," said the senator's son. "Just now let us see how the land lies for getting the bats into old Haskers's room."

He and Dave tiptoed their way out into the hallway, which was dark saving for a faint light near a bathroom door. Not a person was in sight, but a faint murmur of voices came from a room below.

"I am afraid he will have his door locked," said Dave. "He learned his lesson when he had the trouble with the ram."

But to their satisfaction they found the door to the assistant teacher's bedroom unlocked. They listened and heard Job Haskers breathing heavily.

"He is sound asleep," whispered Roger.

"Let us put the key on the outside first," answered Dave.

This was done, and then the two boys went back for the cage of bats. The other students in the dormitory wanted to see the fun, and half a dozen went out into the hallway. In order that they might not be seen and recognized, the light was extinguished.

"I am going to loosen the bottom of the cage and then throw the whole thing on Haskers's bed," said Dave. "Stand ready, somebody, to lock the door."

"I'll do that," answered Phil.

With caution the door was opened for a little over a foot. Then Dave loosened the bottom of the cage and shook the bats up. As they fluttered around he threw cage and all directly on the teacher's bed. Then the door was quickly closed and locked and the key thrown down into the lower hallway.

For a moment there was silence. Then from Job Haskers's room there arose a frightful shriek.

"Help! Get away! What is this? Oh, my eye! Get away, I say! Oh! oh! Save me! I shall be killed! Get away!" And there followed a series of yells and thumps and the overturning of a chair and a table.

"He is enjoying himself – I don't think!" cried Roger, with a chuckle. "Oh, say, listen to that!"

"Back to the room, or we'll be discovered," warned Phil, and back they ran with all speed.

But the strange commotion had aroused the whole Hall, and dormitory doors were opened on all sides and students rushed out to see what was the matter. Then Dr. Clay appeared, garbed in a dressing gown. Andrew Dale, the first assistant teacher, ran up from below.

"What is the meaning of this unseemly noise?" thundered the good doctor. "Make a light, somebody."

Several lights were lit. In the meantime the noise in Job Haskers's room continued. The second assistant was having a hot fight with the bats. The creatures banged him in the face, whizzed past his ears, caught in his rather long hair, and practically scared him out of his wits. He made wild passes at them with his hands, dancing around in the meanwhile, and in his bewilderment brought down a steel engraving covered with glass with a tremendous crash.

"Mr. Haskers must be going crazy!"

"Perhaps there is a burglar in his room!"

"Look out that you don't get shot!"

"I know what's the matter!" cried one fun-loving student. "He must have the hydrophobia. He said a dog tried to bite him a couple of days ago."

"Oh, if he has gone mad I don't want him to bite me!" shrieked one of the younger students.

"Better chain him up and pour water on him!"

"Mr. Haskers!" thundered the doctor, rattling the doorknob. "Mr. Haskers! What is the matter? Open the door."

But the noise was so fearful that no attention was paid to the request. Then came another crash, as the assistant teacher picked up a book, let it fly at the bats, and sent a big pane of glass in the window into a hundred pieces.

This was too much for Dr. Clay. Satisfied that something dreadful was going on, he put his shoulder to the door and burst it open. As he did this, something whizzed past his ear and made him dodge.

"Stop! Don't throw anything at me!" he called. "What in the world does this mean?"

"I don't know what it means!" roared Job Haskers, who was so bewildered he scarcely knew what he was saying. "Get out of here! Oh, my eye! That's the third time I've been hit!" And he made another sweep at his invisible enemy. Then, as Dr. Clay backed into the hallway, the teacher followed him and ran down the corridor like one gone crazy.

By this time somebody was bringing a lantern, and Andrew Dale had armed himself with a club. The doorway to Job Haskers's room had been left wide open and the sounds within had suddenly ceased. With caution Andrew Dale peered inside.

"I do not see anything out of the ordinary," he announced, looking around with caution.

"Maybe the bats have cleared out!" whispered Roger to Dave.

"I hope they have. See, the window is open from the top, and the bottom glass is broken out."

One after another, teachers and students crowded into the room. Phil spied the battered bird cage resting near the foot of the bed, and, in secret, passed it to Dave, who handed it to Sam. The latter was close to the window, and threw the object out as far as he could. In the meantime the excitement continued.

"I don't see anything."

"Better look for robbers!"

"Maybe somebody is in the closet."

The closet was searched, but nothing out of the ordinary was discovered. The students in the secret looked for bats, but every one of the creatures had taken its departure for parts unknown.

CHAPTER VII
A CHALLENGE ACCEPTED

"Mr. Haskers, I would like to have you explain this affair," said Dr. Clay, after the excitement had died down.

"Have you – have you got them?" faltered the assistant teacher, who was still much bewildered.

"Got what?"

"Why, – er – the – the things that were in my room."

"I can find nothing in your room, and neither can Mr. Dale."

"No – nothing? absolutely nothing, sir?"

"Not a thing out of the ordinary. Did you have a nightmare?" And the worthy master of the Hall looked sternly at his assistant.

"I – er – I don't think I did. I woke up suddenly, sir, and something flew by my head. Then something hit me in the face and got caught in my hair, and after that I – er – I was hit half a dozen times."

"Ahem! This is certainly extraordinary. You are sure you weren't dreaming?"

"I don't think I was, sir."

"Was your window open when you went to bed?"

"Yes, from the top."

"Perhaps a night bird flew in."

"There must have been half a dozen of them."

"Well, whatever it was, it is gone now. You had better go back to bed. You can push the chiffonier against the broken-out window if you wish, to keep out the cold air. Boys, I want you all to retire. We'll have the window and the broken lock mended in the morning."

The doctor turned and waved the students away, and one after another they departed for their dormitories. Then he followed Job Haskers into the latter's bedroom. The door was closed and what was said was not heard by the others.

"Well, that was certainly one on Job Haskers," chuckled Roger, as he followed Dave to bed.

"And I doubt if he ever learns what was the real trouble," answered Dave.

"By the way, I didn't see Gus Plum and Nat Poole," said Phil. "It is queer they didn't come out of their room."

"Maybe they weren't in the building!" cried Sam. "Mr. Dale was watching downstairs for somebody."

"I am not going to bother my head about it," announced the senator's son, as he began to get ready to jump into bed, having disrobed in part before playing the joke on the teacher. "The walk made me tired."

"I am tired, too, and sleepy," said Shadow.

"Ditto here," announced Dave.

All of the students had gone to their dormitories, and once more quiet settled over the Hall. The light that had been lit was extinguished, and one after another the boys hopped into bed and tucked the covers in around them.

"Great hambones! What's this!" came, an instant later, from Phil, and he began to wiggle from head to foot.

"Adam's tombstone, but this is fierce!" cried the senator's son and sat bolt upright.

"I should say it was!" declared Dave, as he also thrashed around. "I can't stand this. Who put something in my bed?"

"I didn't!" declared Buster.

"Nor I!" declared one after another of the occupants of the dormitory.

Once more the boys got up, and the light was again lit. It was soon discovered that a mass of burdock burs had been placed in the beds of Phil, Roger, and Dave. None of the other beds had been touched.

"This is an itchy joke and no mistake," said Dave, with a sickly grin.

"Puts me in mind of a story," began Shadow. "At a school – "

"No stories just now!" cried Dave. "I want to know who did this?"

"I saw some burdock burs yesterday," said Polly Vane. "Little Sammy Bilderman had them."

"Yes, and he gave them to Nat Poole," declared Chip Macklin. "I saw him do it."

"That explains it!" cried Dave.

"Explains what?" asked several of the others.

"Why Poole and Plum didn't show themselves while the racket was going on in Haskers's room. They came in here and fixed us up."

"It must be so," said Phil, "for I know my bed was all right before."

Dave leaped noiselessly to the door and threw it open. Nobody was outside, but he heard a door at a distance close softly.

"Somebody was out there. He just ran off," he declared.

"Come on," said Roger, and tiptoed his way into the semi-dark hall, followed by Dave and Phil. They made their way to the door of the dormitory in which Poole and Plum belonged. They heard a rustle and the faint creaking of two beds.

"We've found them all right," whispered the senator's son. "The question is, what shall we do in return?"

"Wait," advised Dave. "We've had enough for one night. Let us get to bed."

The others were willing, and so they returned to their own room. The burs were cleared away, and in a few minutes more all of the lads were in the land of dreams.

In the morning, on entering the classroom, the students found Job Haskers heavy-eyed and in anything but a pleasant humor. He called one class after another to order in a sharp, jerky voice, and gave the pupils demerit marks upon the slightest provocation. As a result Dave, Phil, and eight other students suffered in their general average.

"How I wish Dr. Clay would get rid of him," sighed Phil.

"And get another teacher like Mr. Dale to take his place," said Dave. All the boys loved Andrew Dale, who was as pleasant as he was capable.

It was not until two days later that Roger met Bob Lapham. The farm boy said his father had heard nothing more of the burglars and the stolen silverware, and had come to the conclusion that little could be done in the matter.

"It is too bad," said the senator's son. "I do hope he gets his stuff back some day."

Although Dave was out for fun and sport, it must not be thought that he neglected his studies. As my old readers know, he was a youth who put his whole heart and soul into whatever he was doing, and this applied to his lessons as well as to everything else. In the past he had kept close to the top of his class, and he was resolved to retain that position or do still better.

"I came to learn something," he said, more than once. "I am not going to neglect my lessons, no matter what is in the air."

"But you'll join our football team, won't you?" asked the senator's son, who was looked upon as the leader in that sport by nearly all the old football players.

"I will if you want me to, Roger. But you know I am not an extra good player. Baseball is my game, not football."

"But we want you to play the position you took last year, when you made that victorious run."

"Very well. What of the other fellows?"

"Ben will be quarter-back as before, and Phil a half-back, and Sam right tackle. I haven't made up my mind about the others yet, although I think I'll try Shadow for center and Buster for guard."

"What do you think of the team Gus Plum has organized?"

"Well, to tell the truth, Dave, I think some of his fellows play pretty good football," answered Roger, in a low voice, so that no outsider might hear him.

"Just what I think. Henshaw is a dandy quarter-back, and Babcock makes a good, heavy tackle. We ought to have them on our team – if we are to play Rockville."

"Well, I would ask them to join us, only if I do that, Plum will say I am trying to steal his men from him."

The next morning came a surprise. Roger received a challenge from the Arrows to play a game of football the very next Saturday afternoon. Nat Poole delivered the paper, and his face had a superior smile on it as he did so.

"Why, Poole, we are not in trim to play yet," said Roger. "We need more practice."

"Afraid to play us, eh?" sneered the aristocratic youth. "I thought so."

"I am not afraid. Make it three weeks from now and I'll accept."

"No, you must play this week or not at all. If you won't play we'll challenge the Rockville fellows."

With this declaration Nat Poole hurried away, leaving the senator's son much worried. As Roger had said, his team needed practice. They were all good players individually, but team work is what counts in a modern game of football. He went to consult his friends.

"We can't do it," said Sam, shaking his head. "Why, some of us scarcely know the new rules yet, much less our signals."

"We need at least two weeks of good, snappy practice," put in another of the players. "None of us are hard enough yet."

"This is a plan to get us into a hole," declared Dave. "If we back out Plum will challenge the Rockville boys and make out that his eleven is the representative one from this school. It's just like one of his dirty tricks."

The boys talked the matter over a good hour, and finally a vote was taken.

"I say play," declared Dave. "Let us practise all we possibly can. If we are beaten we can immediately send a challenge for another game on the Saturday following."

So it was at last decided, although Roger, Phil, and Sam were still doubtful. They declared it was taking a big risk and that if they lost they would never hear the end of it.

In the meantime Gus Plum was laughing in his sleeve, as the popular saying goes, feeling certain that Roger's eleven would not accept the challenge. Three of the players who had formerly played on the team of the senator's son had left Oak Hall, and that meant the substitution of green hands from whom it was not known what to expect.

"They'll crawl out of it," declared Nat Poole, as he and the bully of the Hall and a student named Jasniff talked it over. Jasniff was a newcomer at Oak Hall, a fellow with a squint in one eye and a manner that few of the boys cared to tolerate, although, strange to say, it pleased Plum and Poole. Jasniff smoked, and played pool when he got the chance, and so did they, and, in addition, the new student was fond of drinking and horse races, – a poor sort of a companion for any youth who wanted to make a man of himself.

"You've got them dead to rights," said Nick Jasniff. "They'll crawl, see if they don't."

"I'll give them until Thursday to accept," said Gus Plum. "If they don't, I'll send a challenge to Rockville on Friday."

"Will Rockville play us?" asked Poole. "They may put up some sort of a kick."

"I'll let them know how matters stand," answered the bully of the Hall, with a suggestive wink. "If Morr's crowd won't play us, then we are the representative team of the Hall, aren't we?"

As the bully ceased speaking, Dave and Roger walked up to the three other boys.

"Here's our answer to that challenge, Plum," said the senator's son, and held out a paper.

"I presume you decline to play us," sneered the bully, as he took the note.

"On the contrary we take pleasure in accepting the challenge," said Dave.