Dave Porter on Cave Island: or, A Schoolboy's Mysterious Mission
“Hello, who’s out there?” cried the owner of the cow-shed, and, lantern in hand, he turned to survey the newcomers.
“Why, it’s Mr. Opper!” cried Sam. “Don’t you remember me? I called last summer, to see some of your young lady boarders.”
“Oh, yes, I remember you,” replied Homer Opper. “You hired my dappled mare for a ride.”
“That’s it, Mr. Opper. Say, that mare could go.”
“Go? Ain’t no hossflesh in these parts kin beat her,” cried the farmer proudly. “She won the prize at the last county fair, she did! But wot brung ye here, sech a night as this?” added Homer Opper curiously.
“Hello, Porter, old man!” cried Mallory, rising from a box on which he had been seated and shaking hands. “Caught in the storm, too, eh?”
“Yes,” answered Dave. He gazed curiously at the Rockville cadet and his companions. “Been up the river?”
“Not any further than this.”
“Hunting?”
“No, skating. We would be going back, only Holt broke one of his skates and that delayed us. Been out hunting, eh? Any luck?”
“Some – good and bad. We shot some rabbits, squirrels, and partridges, and we likewise had our hamper, our skates, an overcoat, and some other things stolen.”
“Stolen!” cried Homer Opper. “By gum, thet’s tough luck! Who tuk the things?”
“That is what we want to find out,” and as Dave spoke he looked sharply at Mallory and the other Rockville cadets.
“Not guilty,” came promptly from Bazen. “Honest Injun, Porter, if you think we touched your things, you are on the wrong track; isn’t that so, fellows?”
“It is,” came promptly from Mallory and Holt. Then suddenly the star hockey player of Rockville Academy let out a long, low whistle of surprise.
“You know something?” demanded Dave.
“Maybe I do,” was Mallory’s slow answer. “Yes, I am sure I do,” he added. “You can put the puzzle together yourself if you wish, Porter – because, you see, I hate to accuse anybody.”
“What do you know?”
“I know this: Less than an hour ago we met two fellows on the river, one with a hamper and the other with a bundle that looked as if it was done up in an overcoat turned inside out. We came on the fellows rather suddenly, at a turn where there were some bushes.”
“Our stuff, as sure as you’re a foot high!” cried Phil.
“Who were the fellows, do you know?” demanded the senator’s son.
At this question Mallory looked at Holt and Bazen.
“I wasn’t exactly sure, but – ” He hesitated to go on.
“I was sure enough,” chimed in Holt. “They were those chaps who came to our school from Oak Hall and then ran away – Jasniff and Merwell. How about it, Tom?”
“I think they were Jasniff and Merwell,” answered Tom Bazen. “To be sure, as soon as they saw us, they skated away as fast as they could, and kept their faces hidden. But if they weren’t Jasniff and Merwell they were pretty good doubles.”
“Jasniff and Merwell,” murmured Dave, and his heart sank a little. Here was more underhanded work of his old enemies.
The farmer and the Rockville cadets were anxious to hear the particulars of the happening, and the Oak Hall lads told of what had occurred.
“I know those chaps,” said Homer Opper. “They stayed here one night last summer. But they cut up so the boarders didn’t like it, so my wife told ’em she didn’t have no room for ’em, an’ they left. They ought to be locked up.”
“They will be locked up, if we can lay hands on them,” replied Phil.
“They must have followed us to Squirrel Island, and spied on us,” said Shadow. “Ben, you were right about seeing somebody. It must have been either Merwell or Jasniff.”
“Have you any idea where they went?” asked the shipowner’s son.
“No, they skated away behind an island and that’s the last we saw of them,” answered Mallory.
“Yes, and I reckon it’s the last we’ll hear of our things,” returned Buster, mournfully. “But come on, let us see about getting back,” he continued. “It’s ‘most time for supper now.”
“Mr. Opper, can you take us back to Oak Hall?” asked Dave. “We’ll pay you for your trouble.”
The farmer looked at the students and rubbed his chin reflectively. Then he gazed out at the storm and the snow-covered ground.
“Might hook up my big sleigh and do it,” he said. “But it would be quite a job.”
“What would it be worth?” asked Ben.
“Oh, I dunno – three or four dollars, at least. It’s a tough night to be out in – an’ I’d have to drive back, or put up at the town all night.”
“Supposing we gave you fifty cents apiece,” suggested Roger.
“And we’ll go along – as far as Rockville, at the same price – if you’ll have us,” added Mallory, quickly.
“Why, yes, Mallory, and welcome,” answered Dave cordially. “That is, if the turnout will hold us all.”
“Sure it will,” answered Homer Opper. “An’ if ye all go an’ pay fifty cents each,” – he counted them mentally as he spoke – “I’ll hook up my four hosses an’ git ye there in jig time.”
“Then it’s a go,” answered Dave, after his chums and the Rockville cadets had nodded their approval.
“And do hurry,” called out Buster, as the farmer moved away to prepare for the journey. “We don’t want to miss our suppers.”
“Ye ain’t goin’ to miss nuthin’,” called the farmer.
Inside of fifteen minutes he came around to the cow-shed with a big, low sleigh, to which were attached four fine-looking horses. The sleigh contained two lanterns and a quantity of wraps and robes.
“Don’t want ye to catch cold, when we’re a-drivin’ fast,” chuckled Homer Opper. “Now pile right in, an’ we’ll be movin’.”
The boys needed no second invitation, and soon all were aboard – Dave and Roger on the front seat with the driver and the others behind, including the Rockville cadets. Then came a crack of the whip, and away through the swirling snow moved the big sleigh, bound for the two schools.
CHAPTER VI – GOOD-BY TO OAK HALL
“Where in the world have you boys been? Why didn’t you come back in time for supper? Don’t you know it is against the rules to stay away like this?”
Thus it was that Job Haskers, the second assistant teacher of Oak Hall, greeted Dave and his chums as they came in, after leaving the big sleigh and settling with Homer Opper.
“We are sorry that we couldn’t get here before, Mr. Haskers,” answered Dave. “But something unusual happened and we were delayed.”
“I’ll not accept any excuses!” snapped the teacher, who had not forgotten how the boys had hurried away without listening to his call from the window. “I think I’ll send you to bed supperless. It is no more than you deserve.”
“Supperless!” gasped Buster, in dismay. “Oh, Mr. Haskers, we don’t deserve such treatment, really we don’t!”
“We have been robbed – that is what delayed us,” declared Phil. “I guess we had better report to Doctor Clay, or Mr. Dale,” he went on, significantly.
“You can report to me,” answered Job Haskers, with increased severity. “There is no need to bother the doctor, and Mr. Dale has gone away for over Sunday.”
“Well, boys, back again!” cried a cheery voice from an upper landing, and then Doctor Clay came down, wearing his gown and slippers. “A wild storm to be out in. I am glad you got back safely.”
“They are late – and you said you gave them no permission to be out after hours,” said Job Haskers, tartly.
“Hum! Did I?” mused the kindly head of the school. “Well, when it storms like this it, of course, makes some difference.”
“We would have been back in time only we were robbed of our skates and some other things,” answered Dave. “We had to walk a long distance through the storm, and we’d not be here yet if we hadn’t managed to hire a farmer to bring us in his sleigh.”
“Robbed!” echoed Doctor Clay, catching at the word. “How was that?” And he listened with keen interest to what the boys had to tell. Even Job Haskers became curious, and said no more about penalizing them for being late.
“And you are sure the fellows were Merwell and Jasniff?” asked the assistant teacher.
“All I know on that point is what Mallory and his chums had to say,” answered Dave.
“I think it would be like that pair to follow you up,” said Doctor Clay, with a grave shake of his head. “They are two very bad boys, – worse, Porter, than you can imagine,” and he looked knowingly at Job Haskers as he spoke. “Now go in to supper, and after that, you, Porter, Morr, and Lawrence, may come to my study and talk the matter over further.”
Wondering what else had happened to upset the head of the school, Dave followed his chums to the dining-hall. Here a late supper awaited the crowd, to which, it is perhaps needless to state, all did full justice.
“Do you think we can track Jasniff and Merwell?” asked the senator’s son, during the course of the repast.
“I don’t,” answered Dave frankly. “For they will do their best to keep out of our way.”
A little later found Dave, Phil, and Roger in the doctor’s private study, a sort of library connected with his regular office. The head of Oak Hall was reading a German historical work, but laid the volume down as they filed in.
“Sit down, boys,” said Doctor Clay, pleasantly, and when they were seated, he added: “Now kindly tell me all you know about Merwell and Jasniff.”
“Do you want to know everything, Doctor?” asked Dave, in some surprise.
“Yes, – and later on, I’ll tell you why.”
“All right,” answered the youth from Crumville, and he told of the many things that had happened, both at the school and at home – not forgetting about the auto ride in which Laura and Jessie were supposed to have participated.
“It all fits in!” cried Doctor Clay, drawing a deep sigh. He tapped the table with the tips of his fingers. “I wonder where it will end?” he mused, half to himself.
“You said that Merwell and Jasniff were worse than we imagined,” suggested Dave, to draw the doctor out.
“So I did, Porter. I will tell you boys something, but please do not let it go any further. Since Jasniff and Merwell became pupils at Rockville Military Academy and since they ran away from that institution they have been doing everything they could think of to annoy me. They have sent farmers here with produce that I never ordered, and have had publishers send me schoolbooks that I did not want. Worse than that, they have circulated reports to my scholars’ parents that this school was running down, that it was in debt, and that some pupils were getting sick because the sewerage system was out of order. Some of the parents have written to me, and two were on the point of taking their boys away, thinking the reports were true. Fortunately I was able to prove the reports false, and the boys remained here. But I do not know how far these slanders are being circulated and what the effect will be in the future.”
“And you are sure they come from Merwell and Jasniff?” questioned Phil.
“I am sure at least one letter was written by Merwell, and one farmer who brought a load of cabbages here said they were ordered by two young men who looked like Merwell and Jasniff.”
“Oh, nobody else would do it!” cried Roger. “Merwell and Jasniff are guilty, not the least doubt of it! The question is: How can we catch them?”
“Yes, that is the question,” said Doctor Clay. “I have notified the local authorities to be on the watch for them, and now I think I shall hire a private detective.”
“Do it, Doctor,” said Dave eagerly. “I will pay half the expense. I know that my father will approve of such a course.” And so the matter rested. The private detective came to Oak Hall two days later, and after interviewing the doctor and the boys, said he would do his best to run down Link Merwell and Nick Jasniff.
It snowed hard for a day and a night and when it cleared off the boys had considerable fun snowballing each other and in coasting down a long hill leading to the river. Pop Swingly, the janitor, came in for his full share of the snow-balling and so did Jackson Lemond, usually called Horsehair, the Hall carryall driver. Horsehair was caught coming from the barn, and half a dozen snowballs hit him at the same time.
“Hi, you, stop!” he spluttered, as one snowball took him in the chin and another in the ear. “Want to smother me? Let up, I say!” And he tried to run away.
“These are early Christmas presents, Horsehair!” sang out Ben, merrily, and let the driver have another, this time in the cap.
“And something to remember us by, when we are gone,” added Gus, hitting him in the arm. Then the driver escaped. He felt sore, and vowed he would square up.
“Maybe he’ll report us,” said Ben, after the excitement was over.
“Not he,” declared Gus. “He’s not that kind. But he’ll lay for us, – just you wait and see.” And Gus was right. About half an hour later he and Ben were told that somebody wanted to see them at the boathouse. They started for the building, walking past the gymnasium, and as they did so, down on their heads came a perfect avalanche of snow, sent from the sloping roof above. When they clawed their way out of the mass and looked up they saw Horsehair standing on the roof, snow-shovel in hand, grinning at them.
“Thought I’d give ye some more snow fer snowballs,” he chuckled. “Here ye are!” And down came another avalanche, sending the boys flat a second time. When they scrambled up they ran off with all speed, the merry laughter of the carryall driver ringing in their ears.
At last came the final session of the school, with the usual exercises, in which Dave and his chums participated. Nearly all of the boys were going home for the holidays, including Dave, Phil, Roger, and Ben. Dave and Ben were, of course, going direct to Crumville, and it was arranged that Phil and the senator’s son should come there later, to visit our hero and his family and the Wadsworths. Nat Poole was also going home, and would be on the same train with Dave and Ben.
“I wish he wasn’t going with us,” said Ben. “I’m getting so I can’t bear Nat at all.”
“Well, he isn’t quite as bad as he was when he chummed with Merwell and Jasniff,” answered our hero. “I think their badness rather scared Nat. He is mean and all that, but he isn’t a criminal.”
“Well, I think some meanness is a crime,” retorted Ben.
The boys had purchased gifts for Doctor Clay, Mr. Dale, and some of the others, and even Job Haskers had been remembered. Some of the students had wanted to ignore the tyrannical teacher, but Dave and his chums had voted down this proposition.
“Let us treat them all alike,” said Dave. “Perhaps Mr. Haskers thinks he is doing right.”
“Yes, and if we leave him out in the cold he may be more hard-hearted than ever,” added Gus, with a certain amount of worldly wisdom.
Dave carried a suit-case and also a big bundle, the latter filled with Christmas presents for the folks at home. Ben was similarly loaded down, and so were the others.
“Good-by, everybody!” cried our hero, as he entered the carryall sleigh. “Take good care of the school until we come back!”
“Good-by!” was the answer. “Don’t eat too much turkey while you are gone!” And then, as the sleigh rolled away from the school grounds, the lads to leave commenced to sing the favorite school song, sung to the tune of “Auld Lang Syne”:
“Oak Hall we never shall forget, No matter where we roam; It is the very best of schools, To us it’s just like home! Then give three cheers, and let them ring Throughout this world so wide, To let the people know that we Elect to here abide!”“That’s the stuff!” cried Roger, and then commenced to toot loudly on a tin horn he carried, and many others made a din.
At the depot the boys had to wait a little while. But presently the train came along and they got aboard. Dave and Ben found a seat near the middle of the car and Nat Poole sat close by them. He acted as if he wanted to talk, but the others gave him little encouragement.
“Nat has something on his mind, I’ll wager a cookie,” whispered Ben to Dave.
“Well, if he has, he need not bother us with it,” was Dave’s reply. “I am done with him – I told him that some time ago.”
The train rolled on and when near the Junction, where the boys had to change to the main line, a couple in front of Ben and Dave got up, leaving the seat vacant. At once Nat Poole took the seat, at first, however, turning it over, so that he might face the other Oak Hall students.
“I want to talk to you, Dave Porter,” he said, in a low and somewhat ugly voice. “I want you to give an account of yourself.”
“Give an account of myself?” queried Dave, in some astonishment, for he had not expected such an opening from Nat. “What do you mean?”
“You know well enough what I mean,” cried the other boy, and now it was plainly to be seen that his anger was rising. “You can blacken your own character all you please but I won’t have you blackening mine! If you don’t confess to what you’ve done, and straighten matters out, as soon as we get to Crumville, I am going to ask my father to have you arrested!”
CHAPTER VII – NAT POOLE’S REVELATION
Both Dave and Ben stared in astonishment at the son of the money-lender of Crumville. Nat was highly indignant, but the reason for this was a complete mystery to the other lads.
“Blacken your character?” repeated Dave. “Nat, what are you talking about?”
“You know well enough.”
“I do not.”
“And I say you do!” blustered the bully. “You can’t crawl out of it. I’ve followed the thing up and I’ve got the evidence against you, and against Roger Morr, too. I was going to speak to Doctor Clay about it, but I know he’d side with you and smooth it over – he always does. But if I tell my father, you’ll find you have a different man to deal with!”
Nat spoke in a high-pitched voice that drew the attention of half a dozen men and women in the car. Ben was greatly annoyed.
“Say, Nat, don’t make a public exhibition of yourself,” he said, in a low tone. “If you’ve got anything against Dave, why don’t you wait until we are alone?”
“I don’t have to wait,” answered Nat, as loudly as ever. “I am going to settle this thing right now.”
Fortunately the train rolled up to the Junction depot at this moment and everybody, including the boys, left the car. Several gazed curiously at Dave and Nat, and, seeing this, Ben led the others to the end of the platform. Here there was a freight room, just then deserted.
“Come on in here, and then, Nat, you can spout all you please,” said Ben.
“You ain’t going to catch me in a corner!” cried the bully, in some alarm.
“It isn’t that, Nat. I don’t want you to make a fool of yourself in front of the whole crowd. See how everybody is staring at you.”
“Humph! Let them stare,” muttered the bully; yet he followed Ben and Dave into the freight room, and Ben stood at the doorway, so that no outsiders might come in. One boy tried to get in, thinking possibly to see a fight, but Ben told him to “fly on, son,” and the lad promptly disappeared.
“Now then, Nat, tell me what you are driving at,” said Dave, as calmly as he could, for he saw that the money-lender’s son was growing more enraged every minute.
“I don’t have to tell you, Dave Porter; you know all about it.”
“I tell you I don’t – I haven’t the least idea what you are driving at.”
“Maybe you’ll deny that you were at Leesburgh last week.”
“Leesburgh?”
“Yes, Leesburgh, at Sampson’s Hotel, and at the Arcade moving-picture and vaudeville show,” and as he uttered the words Nat fairly glared into the face of our hero.
“I haven’t been near Leesburgh for several months – not since a crowd of us went there to a football game.”
“Humph! You expect me to believe that?”
“Believe it or not, it is true.”
“You can’t pull the wool over my eyes, Dave Porter! I know you were at Leesburgh last week Wednesday, you and Roger Morr. And I know you went to Sampson’s Hotel and registered in my name and then cut up like a rowdy there, in the pool-room, and got thrown out, and I know you and Roger Morr went to the Arcade and made a fuss there, and got thrown out again, but not until you had given my name and the name of Gus Plum. Gus may forgive you for it, and think it only a joke. But I’ll not do it, I can tell you that! You have got to write a letter to the owner of that hotel and to the theater manager and explain things, and you and Roger Morr have got to beg my pardon. And if you don’t, as I said before, I’ll tell my father and get him to have you arrested.” And now Nat was so excited he moved from one foot to the other and shook his fist in the air.
To the bully’s surprise Dave did not get excited. On the contrary, our hero’s face showed something that was akin to a faint smile. Ben saw it and wondered at it.
“Say, you needn’t laugh at me!” howled Nat, noting the look. “Before I get through with you, you’ll find it no laughing matter.”
“I am not laughing at you, Nat.”
“Well, do you admit that what I’ve said is true?”
“No; on the contrary, I say it is false, every word of it. Did you say this happened last Wednesday?”
“I did.”
“Both Roger Morr and I were at the school all day Wednesday. During the day I attended all my classes, and after school I went to my room, along with Polly Vane, Luke Watson, and Sam Day, and the three of us wrote on the essays we had to hand in Thursday. After supper we went down to the gym for about half an hour, and then went back to our dormitory. And, come to think of it, you saw us there,” added Dave suddenly.
“I saw you?”
“You certainly did. You came to the door and asked Luke Watson for a Latin book; don’t you remember? Luke got it out of his bureau. We were all at the big table. Sam Day flipped a button at you and it hit you in the chin.”
At these unexpected words the face of the money-lender’s son fell.
“Was that – er – was that Wednesday?” he faltered.
“It certainly was, for we had to hand the essays in Thursday and we were all working like beavers on them.”
“Nat, what Dave says is absolutely true – I know he wasn’t near Leesburgh last week, for I was with him every day and every evening,” said Ben.
“But I got the word from some fellows in Leesburgh. They followed you from the hotel to the show and talked to you afterwards, and they said you told them your name was Porter, and the other chap said his name was Morr. They said you gave the names of Poole and Plum just to keep your real identity hidden.”
“Well, I am not guilty, Nat; I give you my word of honor on it.”
“But – but – if you aren’t guilty how is it those fellows got your name and that of Morr?” asked the money-lender’s son, not knowing what else to say.
“I think I can explain it, Nat. The same fellows who did that are annoying me in other ways. But I’ll not explain unless you will give me your word of honor to keep it a secret, at least for the present.”
“A secret, why?”
“Because I don’t want the thing talked about in public. The more you talk about such things the worse off you are. Let me tell you that I have suffered more than you have, and other folks have suffered too.”
“Do you mean to say that some other fellows did this and gave my name and Plum’s first and yours and Morr’s afterwards?” asked Nat, curiously.
“Exactly.”
“Why?”
“For a twofold reason; first to blacken your character and that of Plum, and, secondly, to cause trouble between all of us.”
“What fellows would be mean enough to do that?”
“Two fellows who used to be your friends, but who have had to run away, to keep from being arrested.”
“Say, you don’t mean Link Merwell and Nick Jasniff!” burst out the money-lender’s son.
“Those are the chaps I do mean, Nat.”
“But I thought they had left these parts. They were in Crumville, I know,” and now the bully looked knowingly at our hero.
“You have heard the reports from home then?” asked Dave, and he felt his face burn.
“Sure.”
“Nat, those reports are all false – as false as this report of your doings at Leesburgh. They are gotten up by Jasniff and Merwell solely to injure my friends and my family and me. My sister and Jessie Wadsworth would refuse to even recognize those fellows, much less go auto-riding with them. Let me tell you something.” And in as few words as possible our hero related how things had been sent to him and his friends without being ordered by them, and of the other trouble Jasniff and Merwell were causing. The money-lender’s son was incredulous at first, but gradually his face relaxed.
