A WILD CHASE
Not five minutes had elapsed before Hicksley was lying on the floor of
the hall, holding his hand to his eyes and nose.
"Get up!" Bobby commanded.
Hicksley did nothing but grunt.
"Have you had enough?" asked Bobby.
"Enough," mumbled the bully, all the fight taken out of him.
He slunk away, while the boys, who had crowded out into the hall at the
sound of combat and had viewed with rapture the defeat of the bully,
gathered about Bobby, who, except for a bruise on his forehead, showed
no sign of the battle.
"Bully for you, Bobby!" crowed Mouser.
"Scubbity-_yow_!" howled Fred in delight. "That was a peach of a scrap."
"He got all that was coming to him," exulted Sparrow.
"Hicksley couldn't lick a postage stamp!" exclaimed Skeets gleefully.
"He must have learned to fight by mail," grinned Shiner.
"A mighty good job you made of it, Bobby," commended Billy Bassett.
"I wasn't looking for trouble," explained Bobby, "but when he butted
into me and knocked me down the stairs, I couldn't help pitching into
him."
For the rest of that day and evening little else was thought of or
spoken of but the "trimming" that Bobby had given to the bully. But
apart from the satisfaction of having Hicksley get what he so richly
deserved, a still greater joy was in the hearts of all.
Bobby Blake was back again on the team!
"Now," cried Fred, expressing the hope and belief of all, "you'll see
Rockledge begin to climb."
And Rockledge did climb with a vengeance.
The very next Saturday with Bobby in the box and pitching gilt-edged
ball they walked all over Belden, not only beating their chief rival but
doing it to the score of seven to nothing. The whole team played behind
their pitcher as though they were inspired with new life. And from that
time on, the Beldenites drew into their shell and did not do so much
crowing when they met the Rockledge boys in the town.
But Bobby and his comrades knew that they still had a heavy task before
them, if they were to win the pennant of the Monatook Lake League.
Belden had now won four games and lost two. Rockledge was even in gains
and losses, having won three and lost three. If there had been many more
games to play, Rockledge would have felt much more confident, for she
was now traveling faster than her rival. But the end of the season was
coming fearfully close, and there were only three more games to play.
"Belden is the one we've got to beat," declared Frank. "We've got the
Indian sign, I think, on Somerset and Ridgefield."
As far as Ridgefield was concerned, this seemed true, for Rockledge won
the game by four to two, his mates handing Bobby a lead in the first
inning that he was able to keep throughout the game. But as Belden also
won on the same day from Somerset, though after a harder battle, the
Rockledge boys were still "trailing" the school across the lake.
The excitement now was reaching fever pitch, and it broke all bounds the
following Saturday, when Belden came a cropper with Ridgefield, being
"nosed out" in the ninth by a sudden rally on the part of their
opponents, while Rockledge won handily from Somerset in a free batting
game by ten runs to six.
"Hurrah!" yelled Mouser, "we're tied with Belden now."
"Bobby has pulled us up in dandy shape," declared Frank. "You're a
wonder, Bobby, old scout."
"Just keep it up for one more game, Bobby," pleaded Sparrow.
"Scubbity-_yow_!" shouted Fred. "I'll bet old Belden is shaking in its
boots."
Somerset and Ridgefield had played good ball in spots, but now they were
out of the race. Belden and Rockledge had each won five and lost three,
and the game that was to be played between them on the following
Saturday would wind up the season and decide which of the teams was to
win the pennant of the Monatook Lake League.
It was almost impossible for the boys to keep their minds on their
lessons, but as there were only ten days remaining in the school term
this did not matter to the same degree as it would have done earlier in
the year.
But an incident occurred on the Monday following the game with Somerset
that gave a new slant to their thoughts, and for a few hours drove even
thoughts of the pennant from the minds of Bobby and his friends.
Shiner had been invited to go for an automobile ride by a friend of his
family, who was staying for a few days at Rockledge. He came rushing
into the dormitory with his eyes bulging.
"Say, fellows!" he gasped, "if you want to catch those tramps of yours,
come along with me."
"What do you mean?" his chums asked in chorus, as they made a wild grab
for their hats.
"I've seen them," panted Shiner. "But come along and I'll tell you.
Hustle!"
The boys rushed downstairs to find an automobile waiting. Beside Mr.
Wharton, the owner, they recognized the constable.
"Tumble in," said Mr. Wharton, smiling, and a half dozen boys swarmed
into the automobile.
"You see," explained Shiner, "we passed three tramps about two miles
from here, and I saw that two of them were the ones we saw the day we
were swimming. I told Mr. Wharton and we put on speed, picked up the
constable and hurried up for you, so that you could go along and
identify them."
Mr. Wharton had started the car the moment the boys were inside, and it
was skimming along like a bird. It went so fast that the boys had to
hold on to their caps, and although they were all chattering with might
and main, the wind made it almost impossible for one to hear what the
others were saying.
In a very few minutes they saw three figures on the lonely country road
ahead. The one in the center had a limp that was familiar.
The tramps heard the coming car, and at first stood aside to let it
pass. But as it slowed up on approaching them, they took alarm, climbed
over a fence and started across the fields toward a piece of woodland a
little way off.
Their pursuers leaped from the car and gave chase. The lithe limbs of
the boys gave them an advantage over their heavier companions, and they
were soon on the heels of the tramps, who turned snarling and faced
them.
"Keep off or I'll club the life out of you," shouted one, whom they
recognized as the man with the scar.
"No you won't," cried Bobby, defiantly.
"We want the things you stole from us," sang out Fred.
"Jail for yours!" Mouser shouted.
They circled round the men, thus holding them in check, and in another
moment Mr. Wharton and the constable had come up and each grabbed one of
the men by the collar. At the sight of the constable's star, the other
quickly wilted.
The officer slipped handcuffs on them all and pushed them into the ear,
while the boys crowded in as best they could, two of them standing on
the running-board. In triumph, they went back to town and the men were
placed in jail.
First they were searched, and, greatly to the boys' delight, pawn
tickets were found that accounted for all the articles that had been
stolen from them. The money of course was gone, but the boys cared
little for that, as long as they were sure that they could get back
their cherished personal possessions.
"We're some demon thief catchers, all right," chuckled Mouser.
"He would call me red-head, would he?" grinned Fred, referring to the
scar-faced tramp.
"It means good luck for us, fellows," declared Bobby. "Now, I'm _sure_
we're going to down Belden."