BLUFFING UP TO THE BIG GAME
"That explosion was fearful, what there was of it," Dick declared
to Chief Coy. It was evening, and the head of the local police
department had stopped the boys on the street for additional information
on the subject.
"What did it look like?" asked Chief Coy.
"There came a big flash and a loud bang in the same instant, and
Mr. Garwood was hurled over on his side. The queer part of it
was that the explosion didn't do any real damage to the bench,
though there wasn't a piece of the glass mortar left that was
big enough to see."
"The explosion all went upward. It didn't work sideways or downward?"
asked Chief Coy.
"That's the way we saw it," Dick replied. "And it didn't hurt
either you or Darrin?"
"Not beyond the big scare, and the shock to our ear-drums."
"I wonder what the explosive could have been?" mused the chief
aloud.
"I don't know what was in the mortar in the first place, sir,"
Dick Prescott went on. "All Amos Garwood put in the mortar after
we got there was some chlorate of potash. Then he put the pestle
in and began to grind."
"And then the explosion happened?" followed up Chief Coy.
"Chlorate of potash, eh?" broke in a local druggist, who had halted
and was listening. "Hm! If Garwood ground that stuff with a
pestle, then it doesn't much matter what else was in the mortar!"
"Is the chlorate explosive, sir?" questioned Dick.
"Is it?" mimicked the druggist. "When I first started in to learn
the drug business it was a favorite trick to give an apprentice
one or two small crystals of chlorate to grind in a mortar. After
a lot of accidents, and after a few drug clerks had been send
to jail for playing the trick it became played out in drug stores."
"But I've seen powdered chlorate of potash," interposed Tom Reade,
who was always in search of information.
"Yes," admitted the druggist. "I can show you, at my store, about
ten pounds of the powdered chlorate."
"Then how do they get it into a powder, sir?" pressed Tom. "Do
the manufacturers grind it between big millstones?"
"If any ever did," laughed the druggist, "they never remained
on earth long enough to tell about it. A few pounds of the chlorate,
crushed between millstones, would blow the roof off of the largest
mill you ever saw!"
"But what makes the stuff so explosive?" queried Prescott.
"I don't know whether I can make you understand it," the druggist
replied. "Potassium chlorate is extremely 'rich' in oxygen, and
it is held very loosely in combination. When a piece of the chlorate
is struck a hard blow it sets the oxygen free, and the gas expands
so rapidly that the explosion follows."
On the outskirts of the little crowd stood a new-comer, Ted Teall,
who was drinking in every word that the druggist uttered. Dick
saw him and felt a sudden start of intuition.
"See here, Teall," Dick called, "you needn't pick that up as a
pointer for the way to serve me with a home-made ball at our game
to-morrow. The trick I played on you wasn't dangerous, but this
chlorate racket is. Mr. Johnson, what would happen if a fellow
should hit a ball with his bat, and that ball was packed with
chlorate of potash?"
"I'm not sure that the fellow with the bat would ever know what
happened," answered the druggist.
"Is it as bad as that?" gasped Teall.
"Worse," replied the druggist grimly.
"So, Teall, if you had any thoughts of playing a trick like that,"
interposed Chief Coy, "take my word for it that such a trick would
be likely to land you in a reform school until you were at least
twenty-one years old."
"Oh, if it's as bad as that-----" muttered Ted reluctantly.
"What did you and Darry say, when the explosion came off?" asked
Dan Dalzell, as Dick & Co. walked on again.
"I don't remember just what Darry said," Prescott confessed reluctantly.
"As for me, I remember just what I said."
"What?"
"I said just what the man on the clubhouse steps said."
"And what was that?" pressed Dalzell.
"That's what you're going to find out if you win the game from
South Grammar to-morrow."
"Then the game is as good as won already," declared Tom solemnly,
"for we're in that frame of mind where we've got to know what
the man on the clubhouse steps said."
Through the evening, and the long night that followed, Chief Coy
had two of his policemen out searching the woods where Garwood
had last been seen. Mr. Winthrop added three detectives to the
chase. When morning came the "queer" inventor was still at large.
He had not even been seen since Dick and Dave had lost sight
of him.
"The last time that I put this class on honor," announced Old
Put, when the morning session began, "we had one of the best records
of good behavior during the day that I can remember. I will,
therefore, announce that this class is on honor again to-day,
and that, no matter what the breaches of discipline, no pupil
will be kept after school to-day. All will be allowed to go and
see the great, the glorious game."
Then, after a pause, Old Dut added dryly:
"I haven't the heart to keep any one after school to-day. I am
going to the game myself."
At this statement a laugh rippled around the room. Then every
boy and girl settled down to the serious business of the day.
At three o'clock Old Put announced:
"If Captain Prescott so desires, he may withdraw now with his
team, in order to have time to dress and get oiled up on the diamond."
"I thank you, sir, for that permission," responded Dick, rising
at once. He was followed by the other players.
"Go out a little more quietly, if you please---that's all," called
Old Dut.
On tiptoe the members of the squad stole upstairs to the exhibition
hall. There they quickly got into their uniforms, next stowing
their street clothing in a closet, the key of which the principal
had supplied to Captain Dick Prescott.
In thoughtful silence Dick led his small host from the schoolhouse
to the diamond. When they had halted by the benches Dick began:
"Now, fellows, each of you keep steadily in mind what we have
at stake this afternoon."
"Yes, sirree!" grinned Dan Dalzell. "If we win to-day we're going
to learn what the man on the clubhouse steps said."
"To-day's victory gives one school or the other the championship
of the Gridley Grammar School League," Dick declared.
"Oh, that's a side issue, entirely," retorted Tom gravely. "What
we're really burning about is to know what the man on the clubhouse
steps said."
"Are we going to pitch in to practice now?" asked Greg.
"You fellows can, if you want to, but don't go at it too hard,"
replied Captain Dick.
"If you didn't want to practice, what were you in such a hurry
to get out of school for?" demanded Holmes.
"Because I felt that we had been in school about as long as we
could stand on the day of the championship game," laughed Prescott.
"Wise captain," approved Darrin.
They had not been on the field many minutes when a whoop sounded
near at hand that caused the boys to look with surprise.
"Here come the Souths!" called Dave. "They must have been let
out early, too."
"Hello!" hailed Captain Teall. "You fellows are here early, but
I don't see your shovels."
"Shovels?" repeated Dick.
"Yes; to dig holes to get into after the game is over," Ted retorted.
"Teall," Prescott responded sternly, "if the South Grammars want
any holes to hide in, they'll have to dig them themselves."
"Humph! We'll see which side feels most like digging a hole when
the score is read!" retorted Ted. "Come along, Souths!"
Ted led the way down the field for practice. On the way he turned
to shout something back. At that moment he tripped over a small
wooden box and fell flat.
"Oh, Ted!" called Dick hurriedly.
"Well?" growled Teall, rubbing his shins.
"Did you enjoy your little trip?"
"My---little---trip?" repeated Ted wonderingly. "Oh---pshaw!
Of course you'd think of something like that to say."
"If you're lamed any by your little trip," offered Tom, "I'll
leave left field to do your base running for you this afternoon."
"Yah! I'll bet you would," jeered Teall. "And if I let you,
I'd be down on the score card for three less than no runs at all."
"You will, anyway," said Reade gravely.
"Somehow," broke in Dan, "I feel unusually happy this afternoon."
"That's because you know we're going to win to-day," laughed Dick.
"Oh, that's a part of it, yes," Dalzell agreed. "But the real
cause of my happy feeling is that I'm going to find out what the
man on the clubhouse steps said. That's what I've been aching
to know ever since some time last winter."
"The time will pass shortly now, Danny Grin," Prescott remarked
comfortingly.
By this time a score of spectators had arrived. Then came a few
High School boys, among them Ben Tozier, who was again to umpire.
"Tozier, what's the High School delegation for?" Dan asked.
"To find out who'll be handy for the High School nine next year?"
"Perhaps," Ben replied gravely. "There's some good, young material
in the two nines, all right. The trouble is that a lot of you
fellows won't go to High School."
"All of Dick & Co. are going to attend High School," Dave proudly
informed Tozier.
Two more High School boys now appeared who were not as welcome.
Fred Ripley and Bert Dodge walked on to the field side by side.
"What are they doing here?" asked Dave.
"We are in luck," spoke up Tom, "if they haven't come here to
start mischief."
"If they do, if they even try it," Dick predicted grimly, "they'll
be the ones out of luck. We'll turn the boys of two Grammar Schools
loose on them and run them off the field."
Down the street sounded a noise that could come from only one
cause. Central Grammar School had "let out." All the boys and
many of the girls were now hurrying toward the ball field. It
was natural to take the biggest sort of interest in this game,
which was to decide which school was the "champion."
"I'm sorry to see your crowd in such high spirits, Prescott,"
said Ted Teall, coming up. "It'll be all the harder for Central
Grammar to bear when the score is announced."
"You're sure of winning, then, Teall?" Dick inquired.
"Absolutely certain!" Captain Ted rejoined.
"We're going to set off a big bonfire this evening, Ted," Captain
Prescott rejoined. "If we win to-day will you agree to be on
hand to light the fire?"
"Yes; if you win," agreed Ted. "But you can't!"