WHO WAS GUILTY?
For the first third of the distance, the ice was as smooth as
quicksilver, with never a lump or hummock to mar the surface. The sleds
flew down the frozen surface, gaining a velocity that took the boys'
breath away and almost frightened them.
Then suddenly there was a jar, a chorus of shouts, and they were thrown
headlong over the fronts of their sleds, landing in a confused heap of
limbs and bodies, while the sleds relieved of their burdens swirled
around aimlessly for a time and finally came to a stop.
A yell of consternation and alarm came from the mass, as the boys tried
to struggle to their feet.
Those who had been left at the top of the hill, hearing the yells and
knowing that some accident had happened, came slipping and scrambling
down to the scene of the disaster.
They helped the half stunned victims to their feet, and for a time there
was a wild hullabaloo of questions and answers as they tried to solve
the mystery.
Fortunately none of them was badly hurt, though at the rate they were
going it might very easily have turned out to be a tragedy.
Most of the boys had rubbed pieces of skin off their arms and legs, and
Fred had a cut in his scalp from which the blood was flowing.
"What did it?" shouted Howell.
"I don't know," replied Bobby hesitatingly. His head was going round
like a top.
"M-must have hit a tree trunk or something like that," stammered
Sparrow.
"That isn't it," replied Howell, looking around him. "There isn't
anything of that kind in sight as far as I can see. Just wait a minute
till I get Sam Thompson's flashlight."
Luckily Sam had it with him and promptly handed it over.
Howell flashed it about him and gave a shout.
"It's ashes!" he cried. "The whole hill's littered with 'em."
"Ashes?" came a chorus of surprised questions.
"That's what it is," declared Howell emphatically. "There are heaps and
heaps of 'em. I'll bet they reach clear down to the bottom of the hill."
He went down further and confirmed what he had said. He had no trouble
in walking, for he could not have slipped if he had wanted to. The whole
lower surface of the hill was strewn with ashes that spoiled the
coasting for that night utterly, and promised to ruin it for many days
to come.
A wave of wrath and fierce indignation swept over the boys as they heard
Howell's report.
"Who could have done it?" was the question that came to the lips of all.
"Could it have been the town council?" suggested Skeets. "They might
have done it to keep the horses from slipping."
"They never did anything like that before," objected Sparrow.
"And if they were the ones, they would have made a clean job of it and
gone right up to the top of the hill," said Mouser. "But you fellows
will notice that it was perfectly clear for a long part of the way
down."
"Mouser is right," declared Bobby. "Somebody did this just to spoil our
fun."
"And they wanted us to be fooled and get started down so that we'd get a
tumble when we came to the ashes," added Fred. "That's why they left it
smooth at the top."
"Some of us might have been killed," groaned Skeets, gingerly soothing
an injured knee.
"And it's only a bit of luck that we weren't," growled Fred.
"My shins are barked for fair," moaned Pee Wee, "and that's no joke this
time either."
"Whoever did it was a low-down skunk," burst out Howell angrily.
"He might have been a murderer," added Skeets.
"I'd like to have my hands on him for a minute," declared Fred.
"Well, our fun is over for this night anyway," said Bobby sadly.
"And for a whole lot of other nights," put in Pee Wee. "Those ashes will
get ground in and there's no sweeping 'em off."
"We'll have to wait for another snow storm before we can do any more
coasting," wailed Sparrow.
It was a sorely disgruntled band of boys who gathered up their sleds and
limped slowly to the top of the hill. One of the sleds was smashed and
all had been more or less scratched and bruised.
Once at the top, they squatted down on their sleds and held a council of
war.
"Now, fellows," said Bobby, "we've got to get to the bottom of this
thing somehow. The ashes didn't come there of themselves. Somebody put
them there, and whoever it was knew that we were out for a grand
coasting bee to-night. So it must have been some fellow in the school."
"I hate to think that there's any fellow at Rockledge who could do such
a dirty trick," remarked Howell. "If we can find out who it was we ought
to tell Doctor Raymond about it and have the fellow sent away from
school."
"No," objected Bobby. "This is our affair and we oughtn't to bring the
teachers into it at all."
"The question is who could have done it," put in Skeets.
"Whoever did it is mean enough to steal sheep," growled Fred.
"Or take the pennies from a dead man's eyes," added Mouser.
"I can figure out just three fellows in the school who could do a thing
like that," said Howell.
"Bill Bronson."
"Jack Jinks."
"Tom Hicksley."
The answers came from as many different lips, and the readiness with
which they were accepted was not at all flattering to the boys who bore
the names.
"It may have been one of those three or all three together," said Bobby,
coming nearer to the mark than he knew.
"That reminds me," cried Fred suddenly. "Tom Hicksley was practicing on
the flying rings when we were talking this thing over in the gymnasium
this morning."
"That's so," chimed in Mouser. "And I remember now that he seemed to
stop all of a sudden and slip away. I didn't think anything about it
then, but I remember it plainly now."
"He owes some of us a grudge for what happened on the train," remarked
Pee Wee.
"And he said then he'd get even with us," observed Fred.
"There's one thing we fellows have forgotten," said Skeets. "Whoever did
this would want to be hiding around and see what happened. We ought to
hunt them out and pay them up."
This seemed likely enough and the boys looked eagerly about them.
"Doesn't seem to be any place up here where they could hide without our
seeing them," remarked Mouser.
"No, but there's a lot of bushes at the side of the road half way down
the hill," put in Sparrow. "Let's go down there."
They went down in a body. There was no one there, but as they got to the
other side of the bushes they could faintly make out three figures
retreating in the distance.
They were too far away to be recognized and they had too long a start to
make it worth while pursuing them, but from their general size and build
the boys had little doubt as to who they were.
"What did I tell you?" cried Fred. "I knew that they were the only ones
who could do a thing like that."
"It seems that the whole bunch of them are in it," remarked Mouser.
"I'll bet that Hicksley went straight to them and cooked this up when he
left the gym this morning," conjectured Sparrow.
"That makes something else we owe those fellows," growled Skeets.
"We owed them enough without that," said Howell. "The big bullies have
tried to pester the life out of us ever since we've been at Rockledge."
"Our turn will come," replied Bobby with conviction. "But now, fellows,
we might as well hustle back to the dormitory. There's no use of staying
here any longer."
They made their way back to the school with very different feelings from
those they had when they left it.
"A holiday spoiled," grumbled Mouser.
"And there's only two more holidays this month," observed Sparrow.
"Two!" exclaimed Bobby. "There's only one more and that's Washington's
Birthday."
"How about St. Valentine's Day?" objected Sparrow. "That's only two days
from now."
"Oh, that's only a fake holiday," replied Fred. "Lessons will go on just
the same."
"I don't care whether it's a fake holiday or a real one," answered
Sparrow. "I'm going to get a lot of fun out of it just the same."