THE BULLY OF THE SCHOOL
“What in the world is up now?” ejaculated Jack, as he started to skate
around the point.
“Pepper is in trouble, that’s sure,” answered Andy.
In a moment the boys who had been playing snap-the-whip saw what had
happened. Around the point of land Dan Baxter had been trying to take a
time picture of the snow-laden bushes and the rocks beyond—certainly an
artistic bit of landscape. Pepper, sprawling on the ice, had hit the
tripod and sent the camera crashing down and the bully of Putnam Hall
with it.
“Look here!” spluttered Dan Baxter, as he got on his knees. “What’s the
meaning of this?”
“I—er—I didn’t—er—see you!” gasped Pepper. The wind had been knocked
completely out of him by the unexpected contact with camera, tripod, and
owner.
“It’s false!” cried the bully. “You couldn’t help seeing me! It’s all a
bluff!”
“You—er—you’re mistaken,” panted Pepper, and started to rise, when the
bully caught him by the collar and pulled him flat again.
“Let go of me, Dan Baxter!”
“I’ll not! I am going to teach you a good lesson!”
“Hi! hi! What’s this?” exclaimed Jack, skating closer. “Let go of him,
Baxter.”
“Why should I?”
“He isn’t to blame,” put in Andy.
“Sure, an’ that’s the truth av it,” broke in Emerald. “We all had a
hand, so we did!”
“We were playing snap-the-whip,” explained Dale. “You must have seen
us.”
“Thanks, but I don’t watch such childish games,” sneered the bully. “I
was tending to my own business when he comes along, smashes the camera,
and knocks me down. Do you think I am going to stand for that?”
“You can’t stand if you are knocked down,” said Andy, dryly.
“Humph! Don’t get funny, Snow! This is no laughing matter.”
“As the dentist said when he pulled the wrong tooth,” came softly from
Dale.
“Is the camera really broken?” asked Jack.
“Yes, it is, and it cost my dad twenty-five dollars.”
“I can get one like it for twelve,” said Stuffer. “Same size and make.”
“Humph!”
“I don’t think it is broken,” said Jack, looking the box over.
“I heard something crack.”
“Maybe it was the glass plate. The lens and shutter are certainly O. K.,
and the box is tight too. One leg of the tripod is broken though.”
“Pepper Ditmore has got to pay for this,” came firmly from Dan Baxter.
“That’s right, don’t let him crawl out of it,” put in Gus Coulter.
“He’s too smart altogether,” added Nick Paxton.
“See here, Coulter, don’t you put in your oar,” cried Pepper. “If you
do, I’ll give you what I gave you before.” And then Gus Coulter slunk
back, for he had not forgotten the drubbing Pepper had administered but
a few weeks previous.
“Are you going to pay for the damage done or not?” demanded Dan Baxter.
“I shall certainly pay,” said Pepper, promptly. “Let me have the camera
and I’ll get it fixed. Or you can have it fixed and have the bill sent
to me.”
“We’ll all pay the bill,” cried Jack. “I think I am as much to blame as
Pep.”
“So am I,” added Andy, and many of the others who had been playing
snap-the-whip said the same.
“I am not going to let you have my camera,” said Dan Baxter, sulkily.
“I’ll get it mended as it should be.” He paused a moment. “But I ain’t
going to let you knock me down for nothing.”
“As I explained, it was an accident, Dan.”
“Humph! You ought to be made to apologize,” growled the bully. He would
have attacked Pepper, only he realized that the lad had too many friends
around.
A war of words followed, lasting several minutes. Then of a sudden one
of the boys let out a low whistle.
“Five minutes over time, fellows. We must get back to the Hall!”
“Five minutes late!” came the cry. “This won’t do at all! Come on and
get back!”
And then the majority ran off, leaving Pepper and Jack with Dan Baxter
and Gus Coulter.
“I’ve got to get back to the Hall, Baxter,” said Pepper. “But I’ll
settle to-morrow.”
“Yes—for I’ll make you settle,” answered the bully, meaningly. “I’ve
stood all I’m going to stand from you and your cronies.”
So speaking the bully picked up his camera and hurried away, followed by
Gus Coulter with the case containing the plates.
“I am sorry this happened,” observed Jack, as he and Pepper ran for the
mess-hall. “This will make Baxter more down on us than ever.”
“I couldn’t help it, Jack. I did what I could to steer clear of the
bushes. I didn’t want to scratch my face, and I didn’t know he was back
there out of sight.”
When Jack and Pepper reached the Hall they were met by Josiah Crabtree,
who viewed them sternly.
“What is the meaning of this, Major Ruddy?” demanded the first assistant
teacher. “You are setting a bad example for those under you.”
“We had a little trouble on the ice,” answered Jack. “Pepper fell down
and knocked over Dan Baxter’s camera, and we had to straighten matters
out.”
“Humph! See that you are not late again,” muttered the teacher, and
passed on.
“Phew! we got off easily that time,” exclaimed Pepper, in a low tone.
“He must have something else to attend to,” and in this surmise the
youth was correct.
A drum was already rolling, and the boys were hurrying to the parade
ground. Jack dashed in and got his sword, and Pepper got his gun, and
both hurried to the parade ground.
“Battalion, attention!” commanded the youthful major, and soon the
cadets were in line. Then came a short drill, followed by the order to
march. The drums sounded out, the fifes struck up a lively air, and
around the parade ground went the cadets, and at last marched into the
mess-hall, where they all sat down to a plain but substantial supper.
During the meal Pepper and Jack saw Dan Baxter scowl at them, and both
felt that the bully “had it in for them.”
“He is bound to get square,” said Jack. “Pep, we must keep our eyes
peeled.”
After supper the boys had an hour off. Some spent the time in the
library reading, while others drifted into the gymnasium.
Jack had some studies to attend to, and went to an open classroom.
Pepper walked to the gymnasium, accompanied by Andy Snow.
Both boys were soon exercising on the rings, and Andy showed what he
could do on a turning bar,—doing the “giant swing” and other difficult
feats.
While they were exercising, Mumps, the toady to Dan Baxter, came in,
followed by a new student named Reff Ritter.
Reff Ritter was a youth who had a very high opinion of himself. His
parents were fairly well off and the boy had traveled a good deal in
foreign countries. Reff had an idea that he could do almost anything,
and he loved to boast of his ability and also to boast of where he had
been and what he had seen. A few of the boys, including Mumps, toadied
to him, but the majority voted the newcomer “a pill.” He had tried to
become friendly with Jack and Pepper, but both had tired of his
everlasting boastings.
“Are you a gymnast?” asked Mumps, as he and Reff Ritter came to a halt
close to where Andy and Pepper were practicing.
“Oh, yes, certainly!” exclaimed Ritter, in a loud voice. “I took some
lessons in New York and I finished up while I was in London and Berlin.
A German instructor—one of the _Turn-verein_ men—taught me a lot of
tricks.”
“What do you think of that?” went on Mumps, as Andy made a swing on the
rings.
“Fair, only fair,” drawled Reff Ritter. “Not at all graceful. Now when I
was stopping at Madrid, there was a Spaniard there who showed me how to
do a turn like that, and it was perfection, I can assure you.”
Andy heard the remark, and it made his ears tingle. He gave a swing and
landed on the floor in front of Ritter and Mumps.
“I’d like to see that Spanish swing you just mentioned,” he said,
coldly.
“Humph! I didn’t—er—calculate to do anything in the way of gymnastics
this evening,” stammered Reff Ritter.
“Maybe you are afraid to try,” went on Andy, pointedly.
“Not at all! not at all!” exclaimed the new student. “I’ll show you how
to do it if you want me to.”
He took off his coat and vest and also his collar and tie. Then he
leaped up on the rings and began to swing.
“Here goes!” he called out, and made the turn, while a small crowd began
to gather.
“Good! That’s fine!” called out Mumps. “Now, Andy Snow, how do you like
it?”
The turn had been a fairly good one. Andy smiled quietly.
“Can you make the double turn?” he called up to Reff Ritter.
“Certainly—I learned that in Berlin also,” was the answer, and the turn
was made, after a good deal of an effort. Then, warming up, Reff Ritter
began to show off, doing about everything he had ever learned. He did
not stop until he was practically out of breath.
Taken as a whole, it was a fair exhibition of gymnastic work, and some
of the boys standing around applauded.
“Have you finished?” asked Pepper.
“I have,” answered Reff Ritter. He caught his breath. “There’s a pattern
for your friend to go by.”
“Thank you, but I don’t need any pattern,” answered Andy. “Here goes for
another try at it!”
He went up lightly and began to perform. First he did several things
which were comparatively easy. But each turn was clean-cut in itself and
decidedly graceful.
“Andy certainly knows how to go at it,” remarked Joe Nelson, who was
present.
“Huh! He hasn’t done anything as difficult as I did,” put in Reff
Ritter.
Then Andy began to do other things, making swings and leaps that were
really wonderful in one who was only an amateur. The boys applauded more
and more. Then he made a leap and a twist seldom seen outside of a
regular circus performance.
“Look at that!” cried Pepper, enthusiastically. “Nobody can do better!”
“Sure, an’ Andy’s the bist acrobat in the school, so he is,” said
Emerald.
And the majority of those standing around agreed with the Irish cadet.