The Putnam Hall Champions

CHAPTER XXIII

THE RACE OF THE SLOOPS

“This is as fine a breeze as anybody would want,” declared Pepper, as the Alice went out to take her position for the race.

“There is Mr. Ford’s yacht,” came from Andy. “The girls are on board and so are Mr. and Mrs. Ford and some others.”

“I’ll sail past them,” said Jack, and did so. All aboard the rich man’s craft waved their handkerchiefs at the cadets.

“I hope you win!” shouted Laura.

“So do I!” added Flossie.

“We’ll do our best!” answered the young major, and then sailed out of hearing distance.

The Ajax was already on hand and in a few minutes more the Neptune hove in sight. Both of the boats were in the pink of condition and caused a murmur of admiration as they moved majestically down to the starting position.

“I can tell yez wan thing,” said Hogan, who was in a small boat with several others. “Jack has his work cut out for him this day, so he has!”

“Yes, the other boats will surely give him a hard push for first place,” returned Bart Conners.

“Oh, the Alice has got to win!” cried Harry Blossom, enthusiastically.

The lake front was lined with spectators and the water was alive with rowboats, motor boats and sailing craft of various sorts. Captain Putnam had hired a good-sized motor boat for the use of himself, Mr. Strong, and a dozen guests; Doctor Pornell had a small steamer, and the immediate friends of Bob Anderson of the Neptune were out in force in a yacht that was a mass of bunting from end to end. Flags were everywhere, and the scene, as the sloops lined up for the start, could not have been more animated.

The last directions were given by the judges, and the three sloops commenced to maneuver for position. Then a cannon was discharged, and over the line shot the Alice, the Ajax and the Neptune; and the great boat race was on.

A shout went up, lasting fully a minute. Then the assembled multitude settled down to watch the struggle with keen interest.

The breeze was what might be termed a smart one, and each sloop had every sail out to its fullest. Each bow cut the water like a thing of life, sending a fine spray over the deck. For the occasion everybody aboard the three boats was dressed in a suit of white duck, with white duck hat.

The triangular course had been laid out to suit the wind. Scarcely had the first half mile been covered when the wind shifted slightly, sending the three boats directly forward to the end of the first leg of the race. All were making splendid time, and when the first half of the leg was finished they were practically abreast of each other.

“The Ajax isn’t capsizing to-day,” remarked Pepper, as they bowled merrily along. “Fred Century must have put some extra lead in her keel.”

“I think he is handling her better,” answered Jack. “He has had plenty of practice since the day she capsized.”

“Anderson certainly knows how to handle the Neptune,” said Andy. “He brought her around too neat for anything at the start.”

“Somebody told me he was the best sailor on Cayuga Lake,” said Dale. “To my mind, we have more to fear from the Neptune than we have from the Ajax.”

“Humph! Just now it looks like a tie race all around,” murmured Stuffer. Even the excitement of the race could not make him forget his longing for something to eat, and he was munching on some peanuts he had brought along.

On and on rushed the three sloops, until the end of the first leg of the triangular course was in sight. The Neptune was now slightly in advance, with the Alice and the Ajax close on her heels.

“The Neptune is ahead!” was the cry. “She is rounding the stake boat of the first leg!”

“The Alice and the Ajax are a tie!”

“No, the Ajax is ahead – she is rounding inside of the Alice!”

So the cries ran on. In the meantime the Neptune started on the second leg of the race, with the Ajax fifty yards to the rear. As said, the Ajax had rounded inside of the Alice, thus giving her not a little advantage over the Putnam Hall craft.

“Too bad!” groaned Dale.

“I think Fred Century cut you pretty close,” observed Pepper to Jack.

“He did, and if he does it again I’ll ram our bow into him,” answered the young skipper.

As the wind had shifted, all of the craft had to do considerable tacking on the second leg of the course. Bob Anderson was certainly a master at this and drew steadily to the front. Fred Century kept second place, with Jack not more than fifty yards behind him.

Presently the wind appeared to grow “choppy,” that is, it came and went in gusts. This did not appear to suit the Neptune, and soon that craft fell back. In the meantime, as if by magic, the Ajax increased her speed and forged to the front. At this came a wild cheering from the supporters of Pornell Academy, and the steamer engaged by Doctor Pornell blew her whistle loudly.

“It’s nip and tuck between the Neptune and the Ajax,” said some on shore. “The Alice doesn’t seem to be in it.”

“Queer, too,” said one man. “I thought she looked as good as any of them.”

“Jack, do you think Reff Ritter put some kind of a drag on us after all?” asked Pepper anxiously.

“No,” was the prompt answer.

“Then why are we falling behind?”

“Fortunes of war I suppose,” and the young major heaved a deep sigh.

“We have got to win!” shouted Andy.

“If we can,” said Jack. “I think we’ll stand a chance on the last leg – if the wind doesn’t shift again.”

The shifting wind had ruffed up the lake bosom not a little, and ever and anon the water dashed over the bow of the Alice, wetting every cadet on board. But the youths paid little attention to this – they were willing to be soaked a dozen times over if only they might win the race.

“More wind coming, I think,” said Stuffer, pointing to some clouds that were piling up.

“I hope it does come,” cried Jack. “The Alice is a boat for a good, stiff blow.”

When the end of the second leg was reached the Ajax rounded the stakeboat first. The Neptune followed at a distance of a hundred yards. The Alice was now a good eighth of a mile behind.

“Can’t we do something to catch up, Jack?” asked Pepper. To stand still and see the other boats go ahead was maddening.

“Yes,” was the young skipper’s sudden reply. “Stand by to shift the mainsail.”

All sprang to obey his order – for to do anything was better than to do nothing. Jack had his eyes on a spot ahead on the surface of the lake. He was watching the water very intently and at the same time speculating on the clouds that were piling up to the westward.

A moment later he gave the order to shift the sail. Over it went with a crack, and the Alice’s rudder came around like lightning. The craft quickly veered, leaving the course taken by the two sloops ahead.

“Why, you are out of the course!” shouted Andy. “Oh, Jack, this won’t do at all!”

“We’ll lose ground,” added Stuffer. “Oh, Jack, you’re going wrong!” And in his excitement he threw several peanut kernels overboard and stuffed the shells in his mouth.

“A soft spot ahead – I am going to keep out of it,” was the young skipper’s answer, and he nodded to show what he meant. “They are in it, thank goodness!” he muttered, a minute later.

Then the others understood – and rejoiced. The Ajax had run into a “soft spot,” so called by sailors – that is, a place where the wind had died away. The Neptune followed, and the sails of both craft flapped idly against the masts. The Alice went wide of the “soft spot,” and though she felt something of the decrease in the wind, yet Jack managed to keep her sails filled and slowly but surely came up on a reach and overlapped the Neptune. Then she forged ahead after the Ajax.

The excitement was now intense, for only a mile and a half of the race remained to be sailed. The Ajax crawled or rather drifted out of the “soft spot,” and then came forward with a rush. The wind clouds now made themselves felt, especially on board the Alice. Jack’s face lost its look of worry.

“This is what we want!” he cried.

For half a mile it was now nip and tuck between the Ajax and the Alice. But then the wind increased so swiftly that Fred Century had to lower his topsail. With all sails set the Alice drew ahead, racing through the water like a thing of life.

“The Alice wins! The Alice wins!” was the cry, and this proved correct, for six minutes later the Putnam Hall sloop came over the line the winner by an eighth of a mile. The Ajax beat the Neptune by less than a hundred yards.

CHAPTER XXIV

FRED CENTURY MAKES A CHANGE

It was a great victory for Jack and his chums, and when they came ashore they were almost hugged to death by their friends.

“When I saw you drop behind my heart went down into my shoes,” said Harry Blossom. “But when you came in ahead my heart – ”

“Climbed out of your cap, I suppose,” finished Pepper.

“Just about. Oh, it’s a dandy victory,” and Harry’s face fairly beamed.

“Boys, you did very well – very well indeed!” exclaimed Captain Putnam, coming up and extending his hands. “Major Ruddy, you have a sloop to be proud of.”

“I am proud of the Alice,” answered Jack. “She did all that I expected of her.”

Bob Anderson took his defeat calmly, but the Pornell Academy students were very bitter, Roy Bock and his cronies especially. Bock and the others had lost considerable money on the contest and this galled them exceedingly. They could not understand how the Alice had forged ahead when it looked as if she was beaten.

“Guess Century must have stood in with the Putnam Hall fellows,” growled Bock.

“That is absolutely false!” cried one of the students who had helped to sail the Ajax. A wordy war followed, and in the end Roy Bock got his nose punched, which made him more angry than ever.

Ritter, Paxton and Coulter were much downcast by the way the race had terminated. All their plans to do Jack’s boat an injury had failed, and how they were going to meet their money obligations they did not know.

“We are up against it good and hard,” said Ritter.

“I’ve got a plan,” said Coulter. “Roy Bock is dead sore over this. He thinks there was some understanding between Century and Jack Ruddy. Let us see if we can’t get him to make some kind of a protest, and we can back him up in it. Perhaps we can have the bets declared off.”

This plot met with instant favor at Reff Ritter’s hands and he lost no time in interviewing Roy Bock. Bock did not want to run the risk of another encounter with the Century crowd, yet he, too, could not afford to lose the money he had staked on the contest.

“Let us talk this over all around,” said he, and called in several of his cronies. Later he and his friends, with Ritter, Paxton and Coulter, went to one of the judges of the contest.

“We think this race ought to be declared off,” said Bock.

“For what reason?” demanded the gentleman, in astonishment.

“We think the Ajax lost the race on purpose,” went on Bock, and then he told of how Jack and Fred Century were friends, and how the young major had assisted those on the Ajax when that craft had capsized.

“Fred Century does not like it at Pornell Academy and is going to leave at the end of this term,” Bock went on. “I am certain he threw the race into the hands of the Putnam Hall cadets.”

“So am I,” added Ritter boldly, and then he spoke of a talk he had overheard between Jack, Pepper and Fred Century. He said that there could not be the slightest doubt but what Century had played into Jack Ruddy’s hands, and Coulter and Paxton said the same.

This statement aroused a hot discussion, in which all the judges and several outsiders took part.

“I consider every sloop was sailed honestly,” said one judge. “If ever a race was won fairly this was won by the Alice.” Bock and Ritter continued to talk, but the judges would not consider their protest, and at last they had to withdraw much crestfallen.

Bock’s actions made a large number of the Putnam Hall cadets very bitter, and on Saturday night there was something of a pitched battle between Andy, Pepper, Dale and six other of the Putnam Hall boys and Roy Bock and his gang. Blows were freely exchanged, and sticks and stones were used, and Bock and his cohorts were forced to run away. Bock got a black eye and Grimes had two of his front teeth loosened, while Gussic had his coat split up the back from bottom to top. Of course the Putnam Hall cadets suffered somewhat, but they went back to the school happy, having driven the enemy from the field.

“We must get square for this,” said Grimes. “I’ll never rest until I pay them back.”

“Right you are,” returned Roy Bock. “I wish I could get back at the whole school.”

“That’s the talk,” added Gussic. “We ought to do something that will make the whole crowd sore.”

“I’ll think up something,” said Bock. “Just give me a couple of days to do it in.”

The report that Fred Century was going to leave Pornell Academy was true. Fred was a bright, clean-hearted lad, and the manners of such fellows as Bock and Grimes did not please him. More than this, when he went to Doctor Pornell that individual treated him coolly.

“I have heard what Roy Bock has said,” said the doctor. “And I must confess I am inclined to think that you sailed the race in such a fashion as to please Putnam Hall.”

“Doctor Pornell, this is – is infamous!” cried Fred. “If you are going to side with Bock I am going to leave this school at once!”

“As you please,” answered the master of the academy. He was in a particularly bad humor that morning.

Fred Century was as good as his word. He walked to Cedarville that noon and sent a special message to his father, relating what had occurred. Mr. Century arrived at Pornell Academy the next morning, and a warm discussion between him and Doctor Pornell followed, lasting an hour. Then Fred packed his trunk and left the academy never to return.

“This disarranges my plans, Fred,” said his father, on the way to Cedarville. “Your mother and I were going to Rome, you know. I do not know what to do with you.”

“I know what I’d like to do,” answered Fred. “I’d like to go to Putnam Hall. The fellows there are bright and up-to-date, and not such cads as Bock and Grimes.”

“Hum!” mused Mr. Century. “Well, that might be arranged. I know Putnam Hall has a fine reputation. I thought of sending you there in the first place.”

The carriage was halted, and soon it was turned around and driven in the direction of Putnam Hall. Arriving at that institution, Mr. Century went in to interview Captain Putnam. When he came out to call his son he was smiling.

“It is arranged, Fred, and you are to be a cadet here from to-day on.”

“Good enough!” cried the youth. “That suits me right down to the ground, father!”

“In taking you as a pupil I think Captain Putnam is making something of a sacrifice,” continued Mr. Century. “You know of this talk about the boat race. Well, now some folks will cry ‘fraud’ louder than ever. But Captain Putnam says he is willing to stand by what the judges decided, especially as he has received word from Bob Anderson that he thinks the race was a fair one.”

Fred was taken to the private office, and he shook hands warmly with Captain Putnam.

“I know you are doing me a favor, Captain Putnam,” said the boy. “In return I shall do all in my power to make myself a credit to your school.”

“That is all I ask, Century,” answered the master of the Hall. “I presume it will not be necessary for anybody to introduce you,” he added, with a faint smile.

“No, sir – I know about a dozen of the boys already.”

“I will have your measure taken for a uniform – and have you assigned to one of the dormitories,” went on Captain Putnam, and called in one of his assistants. After Fred had been measured and his trunk had been taken upstairs, Captain Putnam called in Jack.

“Major Ruddy, allow me to acquaint you with a new pupil, Frederic Century,” he said.

“A new pupil!” cried the young major. “Why – er – is Fred coming to school here?”

“I am, Jack. Aren’t you glad to have me?”

“I am delighted!” cried Jack, and smiled warmly. “But this is the greatest surprise yet,” he continued. “I thought you were at Pornell.”

“Quit yesterday – and mighty glad to do it. I’ll tell you all about it some other time.”

Fred Century was warmly welcomed by Pepper, Andy and the others. He was put in a dormitory next to that occupied by Jack and his chums, the two apartments being connected by a door which was rarely locked. He was made to feel at home, and said over and over again he was more than pleased over the change he had made.

“Doctor Pornell is as great a cad as some of his pupils,” said he to Pepper. “How some of the better class of boys can stand him is more than I can comprehend.”

“Well, some folks have more money than brains,” answered the Imp. “And that’s the case with many of the Pornellites, I imagine.”

“Bock is down on Putnam Hall,” went on Fred. “He vows he will get square.”

“We’ll watch out for him,” answered Pepper. “I reckon we can give him as good as he sends.”

CHAPTER XXV

A CANNON AND A FLAGSTAFF DISAPPEAR

“Jack!”

“What is it, Andy? You look as excited as if you had met a lion face to face.” And the young major sat up in bed in wonder.

“Hustle into your clothing and come downstairs. Something awful has happened.”

“What’s up?” asked Pepper, who had overheard the talk.

“The cannon is gone, and so is the flagstaff!”

“What!” came in a chorus from several cadets. “The cannon and the flagstaff gone?”

“Exactly.”

“Do you mean the new cannon?” queried the young major.

“To be sure I do. The old one is back in the barn.”

“Where has it gone to?” asked Stuffer.

“Nobody knows. It disappeared during the night – and so did the flagstaff.”

“Did somebody chop the flagstaff down?” asked Dale.

“Sure, an’ anybody mane enough to do that ought to be hung, so they ought!” growled Emerald.

“No, they didn’t chop it down – they dug it up.”

“And carted it off?” asked Pepper.

“Yes. Come on down. You never saw Captain Putnam so excited in his life. Peleg Snuggers just called him up. I got up ahead of time because I couldn’t sleep any longer,” concluded Andy.

The news spread like wildfire, and soon cadets were hurrying downstairs in droves, some but partly dressed. The alarm was as great as if the school had been on fire.

The beautiful brass cannon, purchased by Captain Putnam but a few weeks before, was gone. So was the noble flagstaff which from sunrise to sunset floated a large American flag. On the grass of the campus were the marks of the cannon wheels, leading to the roadway. From the hole left by the flagstaff there was a long, straight mark over the grass leading to the lake front.

“It is easy to guess what was done,” said Jack. “The cannon was carted off by the aid of boys, men, or horses. Men or boys dug up the flagstaff, hauled it down to the lake, and floated it away.”

“Major Ruddy, assemble the battalion at once,” cried Captain Putnam. And a minute later came the well-known rattle of the drum. But this was not needed, for all the cadets were already at hand, looking at the spots where the cannon and the flagstaff had stood, and asking a hundred and one questions.

“Young gentlemen,” began Captain Putnam, when the two companies of the battalion stood at attention, “a grave lot of mischief has been done here. You all know what that mischief is. If any of you are guilty I want such guilty party or parties to stand forth.”

There was a pause. The cadets looked at each other, but not a boy budged.

“I want no hanging-fire in this,” went on the master of the Hall. “Fun is fun, but this is going too far. Is anybody guilty or not? If guilty, take two steps forward.”

Nobody moved.

“The quartermaster will call the roll. As each name is uttered the cadet will answer ‘Guilty’ or ‘Not guilty,’ as the case may be. Quartermaster, are you guilty or not guilty?”

“Not guilty!” was the prompt reply of the cadet who held the position of quartermaster of the battalion.

The roll was speedily called and every cadet present answered “Not guilty,” in a loud, clear voice.

“This is strange,” mused Captain Putnam. “Can this have been done by some outsiders?”

“Captain Putnam, will you allow me to say something,” said Fred Century.

“Certainly. Come here.”

Fred marched to the front and close to the master of the Hall.

“If this is the work of outsiders I think you can blame some of the fellows of Pornell Academy,” said Fred. “They are very bitter against the cadets here and would be willing to do something like what has been accomplished to make trouble.”