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

CHAPTER XIV
CARRIED OFF

When Dave came to his senses he found himself rolling around the floor of the freight car. The door was three-quarters shut and the train was winding its way around several uneven curves.

He put his hand to his forehead. There was a big lump near his left eye and his left hand was bleeding from several scratches. The car was full of dust and he began to cough.

"What a fearful tumble!" he muttered to himself, and then sat up and stared around him. "Where in the world am I?"

He had expected to find himself beside the highway; instead he was boxed in and moving along at a speed of twenty or more miles an hour. He glanced through the open doorway and saw the trees and rocks flashing by. It took him all of a minute to collect his scattered senses, and then he gazed around the dust-laden car. Only a few feet away lay the form of Babcock. The youth was breathing heavily.

"Paul!" he called out. "Paul! What does this mean? Did you bring me here?"

There was no answer, and on his hands and knees he bent over his friend. Then he gave Babcock a shake, and the hurt one opened his eyes.

"The tree – look out for the tree!" he murmured and struggled to a sitting position.

"Paul, did you bring me here?" went on Dave.

"Me? Here? What do you mean? Where am I?" stammered Babcock, and then he, too, stared out of the doorway of the freight car. "Well, I never!"

It was not until several minutes later that the pair comprehended the truth of the fact that they were in a freight car that was moving along at a good rate of speed and that they had been put in the car by some party or parties unknown.

"This certainly beats the Dutch!" cried Dave. "Are you hurt much?"

"I am pretty well shaken up, and my shoulder is a little lame, Dave. How about you?"

"I've got this lump and those scratches, that's all."

"You went into that tree and so did I. Do you remember what happened after that?"

"No."

"Neither do I. Somebody must have put us in here. Who was it?"

"Don't ask me, and don't ask me where we are going either, for I haven't the least idea."

The two students talked the matter over for fully five minutes, but could reach no conclusion. At first they fancied that they might have been robbed, but nothing was missing but their wheels.

"This is a mystery we must solve later," said Dave. "The present question is, How are we to get off this train and get back to the Hall?"

A moment later the freight train passed through a small lumber town. They heard a mill whistle blowing. Dave pulled out his watch.

"Why, Paul, it is twelve o'clock!"

"Nonsense!" Babcock consulted his own time-piece. "You are right! And we were going to be back to the Hall by dinner time!"

"Don't forget that to-day is the day for the great football match."

"Creation! Do you know it slipped my mind for the moment! Why, Dave, we must get back!"

"I agree with you."

"Let us get off the train at once."

"What, with the cars running at twenty-five or thirty miles an hour! No, thank you! We've had one bad tumble, I don't want a second."

Babcock looked out of the doorway. The lumber town had been left behind and they were running through a dense woods. How far they were from Leeton and Oak Hall they could not tell.

"I wish we could signal the engineer, I'd soon stop the train," said Dave.

"Can't we crawl to the top of the car?"

"We might if we were regular train hands, but as greenies we had better not risk it."

Another mile was passed, and the train began to go around another curve. Then came a steep upgrade and the speed of the cars was slackened.

"We're slowing up!" cried Babcock. "Maybe we can jump for it now."

The locomotive was puffing laboriously, and presently the train seemed to do little but crawl along. The boys looked at each other.

"Shall we go?" asked Dave.

"Yes."

"All right, here goes!"

Dave swung himself down and made a jump in safety. Fifty feet further on Paul Babcock did the same. Then the long freight train rolled by, a brakeman on the caboose gazing at them curiously as it passed.

"Well, where are we?" asked Babcock, gazing around with interest.

"On the line of the D. S. & B. railroad," answered Dave, with a grim smile.

"I know that well enough, but where on the line?"

"Some miles from Leeton. The question is, Shall we walk back on the track?"

"I don't know of anything else to do. We can find out where we are when we reach that lumber town where we heard the whistle blowing."

They walked along the track for all of a mile and a half and then came in sight of the lumber town, which consisted of nothing but the mill, one general store, and a dozen frame houses. It was now nearly one o'clock and the men of the mill were preparing to resume their day's labor.

"What town is this?" asked Dave, of a boy they met.

"This town is Mill Run," answered the youth.

"How far is it to Leeton?"

"About twelve miles."

"Twelve miles!" ejaculated Babcock.

"Yes, and maybe more."

"Do you know when we can get back to Leeton?"

"Not till seven-thirty to-night. There are only two passenger trains a day on this line."

"Well, we've got to get back before to-night," said Dave, decidedly. "We've got to get back right now."

"I don't see how you are going to do it," said the boy. "Ain't no train, nor stage, nor nuthin."

"Can't we hire some sort of a carriage?" queried Babcock. "We won't mind the expense." He came from a well-to-do family and had ample spending money.

"Might git old Si Ross to drive you over."

"Who is Si Ross?"

"Used to run the stage from here to Leeton before the railroad went through."

"Will you show us his place?"

"Of course," answered the boy and took them through the lumber town and to a small shanty on the outskirts. Here they found Si Ross, a bent-over old man who was rather hard of hearing.

"Hi, Si!" called out the boy. "These fellers want you to drive 'em over to Leeton."

"They're arrivin' from Leeton?" queried the old man.

"No, they want you to drive 'em over —drive 'em over!" shrieked the boy.

"Me drive 'em over?"

"Yes," said Dave and Babcock at the top of their voices, and nodded vigorously.

"Cost ye two an' a half."

"All right. Can you do it right away?" went on Dave.

"O' course I know the way."

"Can you do it right away!" screamed Dave.

"Sure – soon as I kin hitch up."

"Hurry up!" yelled Babcock. "We want to get there as soon as possible."

"I'll git ye there soon enough, don't ye fear," said Si Ross, and hobbled off to his barn. He brought forth a bony horse and shoved out a rickety road wagon and began to hook up. The boy helped him.

"That doesn't look very promising," remarked Babcock.

"Is this the best turnout in town?" asked Dave, of the boy.

"It's the only one you can git," was the answer.

At last Si Ross was ready to leave and the two students got up on the rear seat of the wagon, Dave first giving the boy ten cents for his trouble, which pleased the urchin immensely. Then Si Ross pulled himself to the front seat, provided himself with a fresh chew of tobacco, and took up the reins.

"Gee dap!" he squeaked to the bony horse and the animal started off on a walk. Then the driver cracked his whip and soon the steed was making fairly good time over the lonely country road.

Again the boys consulted their watches and found it was now half-past one o'clock. The football game was scheduled to start at half-past three.

"Two hours to get there in," said Dave. "We'll never make it."

"I think we ought to start for Mr. Mongrace's place direct," said Babcock.

"But we haven't our football togs."

"Perhaps Roger will take them along, or we may be able to borrow some. One thing is certain, we haven't time to return to Oak Hall for them."

"Do you know where Mr. Mongrace's estate is?" asked Dave, in a loud tone of the driver.

"Yes – very fine place," was the answer.

"Can you take us there?"

"How?"

"Can you take us there?"

"Sure. But I thought you wanted to go to Leeton?"

"We must get to Mr. Mongrace's by half-past three!" called out Dave.

"I can make it – but we'll have to hurry."

"Go ahead then."

"Three dollars."

"All right!" yelled Babcock, and felt in his pocket. "Oh, pshaw! I've only got a dollar and a quarter with me!"

"Never mind, I've got it," said Dave, and brought out the necessary bank bills.

The sight of the cash was inspiring to Si Ross, and he urged his bony nag along at a faster gait than ever. They passed over one small hill and then came out on a highway which was in excellent condition.

"I'd like to know who put us in that freight car," said Dave, as they rattled along. "Do you know, I've half an idea the whole thing was a put-up job. That tree seemed to fall down right in front of us and I don't see what should make it fall. There was hardly any wind blowing."

"It was certainly a curious piece of business all the way through," returned Paul Babcock. "We'll have to start an investigation after the game. And we must try to recover our bicycles too."

"Do you think any of the Rockville fellows would be mean enough to play such a trick on us?"

"I don't know. Whoever it was took big chances. Why, we might have been killed!"

"Well, it wasn't done by footpads, otherwise we should have been robbed."

"That is true. Well, the best thing we can – Whoa! What's the matter!"

"The horse is running away!"

"The back-strap is broken!"

There was no time to say more, for the wagon was swaying from side to side. Then came a turn, and a second later the vehicle ran off into a gully. Crash! went one of the front wheels, and over went the body. The horse came to a standstill and Si Ross slid into some bushes, followed by the two students.

"Smashed!" wailed the old driver, as he got up and surveyed the wreck.

"And that ends our hope of getting to the football field in time," added Babcock dolefully.

CHAPTER XV
OFF FOR THE GAME

"Where in the world can Dave and Paul be keeping themselves?"

It was Roger who spoke. He and the others had had their dinner and were out on the campus doing a last bit of practising before starting for Mr. Mongrace's place.

"They certainly should have been here long ago," returned Phil. "They won't have time to get their dinner."

"I wonder if Gus Plum and his crowd met them on the road," said Sam. "They were out on their wheels."

"I'll ask them," said Shadow, and ran off to do so. He met Nat Poole at the doorway to the Hall.

"Say, Nat, did you see anything of Dave Porter and Paul Babcock when you were out on your wheel?" he asked.

Nat Poole started at the direct question and his face changed color. But he quickly recovered.

"No, I didn't see them," he answered. "What makes you ask?"

"They are missing and I know you were out on your wheel and they went out too – over to Leeton."

"We went to Oakdale," said Nat, and turned away, for fear of being questioned further. He, Plum, and Jasniff had arranged it between them to say they had been to Oakdale and nowhere else.

Shadow Hamilton returned to his friends and related what Poole had said. Some of the students had already departed for the football field, going on their wheels and in one of the carriages belonging to the place. The football club was to take the carryall, and turnouts had been engaged for all who were to witness the game.

Soon Andrew Dale came out to see if the team was ready. He was greatly surprised when he learned that Dave and Paul were missing.

"It may be they have been delayed," said he, "and if that is so, they may have gone direct from Leeton to the Mongrace estate. I think there is a fairly good road."

"Perhaps that is so," answered the senator's son, brightening a little. "But they ought to have come here – they knew I should be worried."

"You had better take their suits along. We can leave word here about the suits – in case they come after we are gone."

Swiftly the minutes went by until the club could wait no longer. Then into the carryall they piled, regulars and substitutes, taking the outfits of the missing players with them. Jackson Lemond was to drive, and with a crack of the whip they were off. Usually the boys would have been noisy and full of fun, but now they were sober.

"Paul told me he would surely be back," said Henshaw. "I am afraid something has happened to him."

"Maybe they got a tumble," suggested Buster Beggs. "But it would be queer if they both got caught at the same time."

The boys had brought their horns and rattles with them, yet they made little noise as they rode along, much to the satisfaction of Jackson Lemond, who had been afraid they would scare the horses and cause them to bolt. Yet the Hall driver was sorry to see them so blue.

"Ain't feelin' much like playin', I take it," he observed.

"It is not that, Horsehair," answered Roger. "We are alarmed over the absence of Dave Porter and Paul Babcock."

"Got to have 'em to play, eh?"

"Well, they belong on the regular eleven."

"Maybe they went ahead," said the Hall driver, hopefully.

The roads were in good condition, and soon they reached the broad highway leading directly to the Mongrace estate. On this road they met a score of turnouts all bound for the football field.

"Hurrah! There are the Oak Hall fellows!"

"Hope you win, boys!"

"You've got to put up a stiff game if you want to come out ahead this season. Rockville has got a dandy team."

So the cries ran on, while horns were blown and rattles used. Then a big stage lumbered up, carrying a number of students from Rockville in their natty military uniforms.

"This is the time we'll wax you!"

"After this game Oak Hall won't be in it!"

"Bet you two to one we beat you!"

"Bet your small change on that, or you'll be a beggar!" cried one of the Oak Hall boys in return.

"We'll race you to the grounds!" said a Rockville student. "Get up there!" he cried to the horses pulling the stage. The whip was used and the turnout bounded ahead.

"Here, this won't do, Horsehair!" cried Phil. "We can't let them beat us on the road like this. Start up the team."

Now, if there was one thing that Lemond took pride in, it was his horses, and seldom was it that he allowed anybody to pass him on the road. Dr. Clay kept good animals, and Horsehair saw to it that they were always in the best of condition. Moreover, he and the driver for Rockville were as bitter rivals as the students themselves.

"Ain't goin' to pass us to-day!" said he, setting his teeth. "Git up!" and he snapped his whip in a manner that meant business.

The horses understood, and in a moment more a race was on in earnest. Stage and carryall streaked down the broad road side by side, all of the students shrieking themselves hoarse.

"Go it, Horsehair! Don't let them beat us!"

"Send 'em ahead, Jerry! We can't take the dust of Oak Hall!"

Faster and faster went stage and carryall and now the two drivers settled down to the race in earnest. Then came a turn and the Oak Hall turnout shot ahead.

"Good for you, Horsehair!" yelled Phil. "Keep it up!"

"Catch him, Jerry, catch him!" came from behind.

"You can't catch us to-day!" flung back Buster Beggs. "Good-by! We'll tell 'em you are coming!" Then the carryall swept up to some private carriages, passed them, and left the Rockville stage in the dust of the road behind.

The little brush served to brighten up Roger and his companions, and as they drew close to the football field they blew their horns and sounded their rattles. When they swept into the grounds they were greeted with cheers, and Oak Hall flags were waved everywhere.

It was certainly a fine football field, as level as a house floor and well roped off. To one side was a neat grand stand, painted green and white, and decorated with flags and bunting. At the far end of the field was a big tent, where the refreshments were to be served, and opposite the grand stand was a special inclosure for any outsiders who cared to witness the contest. Each school was well represented by its followers, and there were fully a thousand spectators in addition.

"We couldn't have a nicer day nor a better crowd," remarked Phil, as he gazed around.

"Do you see anything of Dave and Paul?" questioned Roger, anxiously.

All looked around quickly and then hurried to the dressing room under the grand stand. Not a sign of the missing players was to be seen anywhere.

"We've got fifteen minutes yet," said Roger. "They may show up at any minute."

"Are all the Rockville players here?" asked Ben.

"Yes, and they look as if they meant business, too," answered Buster Beggs.

The grand stand had been divided into three parts, the middle for the owner of the estate and his special friends, and either end for the two schools. In the best position on the stand was the sick brother of the owner of the estate, propped up in an invalid's chair. His face wore a smile, as if he enjoyed everything that was going on.

In an extreme corner of the Oak Hall end of the stand sat Gus Plum, Nat Poole, and Nick Jasniff. They were awaiting the outcome of the game with deep interest, although sure that their school would lose. Through a friend in Oakdale they had placed practically all their spending money on bets in favor of Rockville, – in fact Gus Plum had gone into debt twenty dollars, borrowing the amount from a student named Chadworth.

"Say, are you sure you fixed Henshaw?" whispered the bully of the Hall to Jasniff. "He doesn't look to be very sick or dizzy-headed."

"Oh, I fixed him right enough," returned Nick Jasniff. "Maybe the stuff hasn't had time to work."

"Or maybe you didn't give him enough," commented Nat Poole.

"I gave him the dose called for. Of course I didn't dare to give him too much."

"I don't see anything of Porter or Babcock," went on Poole, with a side wink at his cronies.

"No, it's funny where they are," answered Gus Plum, in a loud voice.

"Maybe they got afraid to play," added Jasniff, in an equally loud tone.

It soon became noised around that Dave and Paul had failed to show themselves, and Dr. Clay himself came from the grand stand to see about it. But nobody could give him any information.

"Something must have happened to detain them," said the owner of the Hall. "They would certainly get here if they could."

At last it was time to go out on the field for practice. Henshaw was put in Babcock's place, as he was able to play the position almost as well as anybody, and a lad named Farrell took the position reserved for Dave.

"There goes Henshaw out," said Nat Poole, in a low voice. "He seems to be all right."

"Why shouldn't he be all right?" demanded a student sitting behind the speaker.

"I wasn't talking to you, Dodd."

"Well, why shouldn't Henshaw be all right?" insisted Dodd.

"Why, – er – somebody said he wasn't feeling well, that's all," stammered Nat Poole.

"He told me he was feeling bang-up."

"That so? Well, I'm glad to hear it," said Poole, weakly.

As a matter of fact Henshaw was feeling just a bit faint and dizzy, the drug not having had time to have its full effect. Luckily the lad was strong and with a good heart action, so he was bound to suffer less than had he been otherwise.

There was a cheer for the Oak Hall players and another cheer when the Rockville eleven appeared on the field. The practice of each team was snappy and vigorous and brought forth applause.

The umpire and the referee were college men, chosen by Mr. Dale and a teacher from Rockville, and the linesmen were others acceptable all around. The practice over, there was a five minutes' intermission.

"Dave and Babcock are not here yet," sighed Phil, "I declare, it's too bad! If we have many accidents on the field we'll be more than short-handed."

"They wouldn't stay away of their own accord," said Roger. "Something is wrong – I'm dead sure of it."

It had been decided that the two halves of the game should be of thirty minutes each, with an intermission of ten minutes. Roger, Phil, Ben, and Buster Beggs occupied the positions they had filled the season previous, and the others of the eleven were placed to the best advantage. The center and the right guard were a little weak, but this could not be helped. On the other hand, the Rockville eleven appeared to be exceptionally well balanced.

"Time to play!" cried Phil, presently, and the eleven at once took their positions. Then the Rockville men came on the field once more; and a minute later the great game started.