ANOTHER CHALLENGE
“I know those fellows!” whispered Jack, as he and Andy came to a halt
behind convenient trees.
“So do I. They are Mr. Strong’s two crazy relatives, Bart Callax and
Paul Shaff.”
The cadets hardly knew what to do.
“I want that million dollars!” cried the man named Callax. “Give it to
me!”
“And I want the order for an airship,” put in Paul Shaff.
“Bart! Paul! Let me go!” said George Strong. “You are making a mistake,
I tell you!”
“If you don’t give us what we want we’ll tie you to a tree and burn you
up!” cried Shaff.
“They are certainly crazy,” whispered Andy. “They ought to be in an
asylum.”
“I wonder how they got here?”
“Ran away from those other relatives in the west, I suppose,” returned
the young major, and he spoke the exact truth. The relatives had been
looking all over for the crazy men, but without success.
Suddenly the two crazy men threw George Strong flat on his back and
began to beat him with their fists.
“Come, we must do what we can!” cried Jack, and ran forward.
The man named Callax was closest to him, and raising his stick he dealt
the fellow a blow that caused him to fall dazed on the sward.
At the same time Andy hit Paul Shaff a glancing blow on the shoulder.
The crazy man turned, leaped up, and caught the cadet by the throat.
“Le—let go of—of m—me!” gasped Andy.
“Boys! I am glad you came!” burst from George Strong’s lips. He
scrambled up and caught Shaff by the arm. “Let him go, do you hear,
Paul! Let him go, I say!” And after an effort he managed to draw the
crazy man back.
By this time Bart Callax was getting up. The blow Jack had dealt seemed
to take much of the fight out of him.
“Do—don’t hit me again!” he whined.
“Then leave Mr. Strong alone,” answered the young major.
“I want my million dollars!”
“And I want my airship,” put in Paul Shaff. “I have an order to go to
the North Pole, to get fifty polar bears for the circus!”
“If you’ll behave yourselves I’ll see that you get what is coming to
you,” said George Strong. “But you mustn’t attack me in this fashion.”
“Too bad! We are so poor!” cried Callax, and suddenly began to weep.
Then Shaff sat on the ground and looked the picture of despair.
“What do you want to do, Mr. Strong?” whispered Jack.
“Where is the horse and buggy?”
“The horse ran away, up the road, but maybe I can find him,” answered
Andy.
“Then do so, if you can. If it can be done, I wish to place these poor
chaps where they can do no further harm.”
“Better place them in a regular asylum after this,” suggested Jack.
“No asylum for me!” yelled Bart Callax, leaping up. “Good-bye!” And he
dove into the bushes.
“Stop him!” cried the teacher, but it was too late. In the excitement
Paul Shaff also got away, and that was the last seen of the pair for
some time to come.
In the meantime Andy had gone after the runaway horse. As he surmised,
the steed had not gone a great distance, and a third of a mile up the
road was found in a hollow, quietly cropping the grass. Fortunately the
buggy was not damaged in the least, and he had no difficulty in
returning to the scene of the encounter with the turnout.
“They came upon me so suddenly that I was taken off my guard,” said the
second assistant teacher, when telling his story. “I tried to reason
with them and said I would take them to the Hall, but they pulled me
from the buggy and dragged me into the wood. They might have killed me
if you had not happened along.”
“I am glad to be of service to you,” said Jack. “But if I were you I’d
make a strong effort to catch them. They are too dangerous to be left at
large.”
“I’ll put some officers of the law on their track,” said the teacher,
and this was, later on, done.
“Mr. Strong, perhaps this explains it!” cried Jack, as they were driving
back to Putnam Hall.
“Explains what, Ruddy?”
“Those orders for goods sent out in your name. Those crazy men might do
something like that?”
“That is so!” ejaculated the teacher. “It never struck me before. I must
look into it without delay. No doubt they are guilty.” And this proved
to be the fact.
With the coming of warm weather the thoughts of many of the students had
turned to baseball. Several teams had already been organized, including
one by Reff Ritter. Baxter had wanted to organize a team, but Ritter got
ahead of him. However, the bully of the Hall was made pitcher, with
Ritter as catcher, so he was content. Coulter played first-base and
Paxton short-stop. They called themselves the Medals, and issued a
challenge to any team in the school.
“That means us,” said Jack. “Baxter and Ritter are bound to get ahead of
us if they possibly can.”
Since the previous summer there had been some changes made among the
boys when playing baseball, and now a team was made up with Bart
Conners, the captain of Company A, as captain and short-stop. Jack was
pitcher, Dale catcher, Andy first-base, Pepper second-base, Stuffer
third-base, Hogan center-field, Harry Blossom right-field, and Henry Lee
left-field. Dave Kearney and two others were substitutes. This team was
called the Browns, for all of the players got suits of brown. The Ritter
and Baxter crowd procured suits of blue, with red stockings.
After a good deal of talk it was decided that the Medals and the Browns
should play a game a week later, on a Saturday afternoon. Both teams at
once began to practice vigorously.
“Baxter is taking private lessons from a professional pitcher who comes
to Cedarville from Ithaca,” said Pepper one day. “I got the word from
Hampden, who saw him.”
“Did Hampden say anything more?”
“He said Baxter was going to fool us on a new kind of a curved ball.”
The news was true. From a friend in the city the bully had gotten the
name and address of the professional pitcher, and the latter was now
giving Baxter as many lessons as the cadet’s spare time would allow.
The new curved ball was a difficult one to pitch, and had to be
delivered by a certain swing of the wrist and the elbow. At first Baxter
could not “get the hang” of it, as he said, but presently it came to
him, and then he delivered the ball very well.
“That’s the way to do it,” said the professional pitcher. “Keep it up
like that and you will fool ’em every inning.”
“I hope I do,” answered Dan Baxter. “I want to down that team sure.”
“Well, you keep at it, and don’t you fear for results.”
To make sure that the professional was not humbugging him, the bully
pitched for his cronies in a field away from Putnam Hall. He struck out
Coulter, Paxton, and Sabine in succession, and Ritter got nothing but an
accidental pop fly.
“That is certainly a great ball to pitch,” was Reff Ritter’s comment. “I
don’t see how we can lose if you keep that up, Dan.”
“I’ll keep it up, don’t worry about that,” was the answer. “I’ll beat
them if it breaks my arm to do it.”
Everybody in the school was interested in the coming game, and in
private not a few wagers were made on the result. When the two teams
went out to practice Dan Baxter did not pitch the new kind of curve, and
many thought his work weak in consequence.
Jack pitched in the regular way, but as soon as he heard that Dan Baxter
was taking lessons from a professional the young major went at pitching
in earnest and perfected his signals for his catcher, Dale. Jack could
pitch a fairly speedy ball and also a drop ball that he hoped would
prove effective from time to time.
The day for the game dawned fairly clear. There were a few clouds in the
sky and a breeze from off the lake. The game was to begin at three
o’clock and before that time visitors began to arrive from Cedarville
and elsewhere, including some students from Pornell Academy.
“Hullo, here is a surprise!” cried Andy, pointing to a big automobile
that was coming along the road. “Mr. Ford and his wife, and two
daughters.”
“How do you do!” cried Laura and Flossie, as the automobile drew closer.
“Can we come in to see the game?”
“Certainly you can!” answered Jack, warmly, and took off his cap. “We
are much pleased to see you.”
“We missed the boat race, but we didn’t wish to miss this—at least the
girls didn’t,” said Rossmore Ford.
“We’ll get you good seats,” said Pepper.
“Thank you, but we can stay right in the automobile,” said the wealthy
gentleman.
“We expect you to win!” said Laura to Jack.
“You must win!” cried Flossie, to the others.
“We are going to try our best,” answered Andy, and the others said
practically the same. Then the boys ran off, for it was time to start
the game.