PEPPER PLAYS A JOKE
As there were a great many students to take part, it had been arranged
that the whole of the next day should be devoted to rifle practice. The
cadets were to march to Rawling’s pasture directly after breakfast, and
each youth was to carry his lunch with him, as well as his rifle and
some rounds of ammunition.
“Now, young gentlemen,” said Captain Putnam, when the quartermaster of
the battalion had distributed the cartridges. “Kindly remember that your
cartridges have bullets in them. I want no loading or firing without
permission. A rifle, thoughtlessly discharged, may do great harm, and
there will be no need of loading your guns until you are called upon to
fire at one of the targets.”
“Have we—we all got to do the—the firing?” asked Fenwick, the school
sneak, in a trembling voice.
“Certainly,” answered Captain Putnam.
“I’ll wager Mumps is afraid to shoot with bullets,” whispered Pepper to
Andy Snow. “He always handles his gun as if he was afraid it would go
off.”
“He’s as much of a coward as he is a sneak,” answered Andy. His face
broke into a sudden grin. “I’ve got an idea,” he whispered.
“Let me in on it quick,” returned Pepper, scenting fun.
“I’ve got a pack of firecrackers, left over from last Fourth of July——”
“Andy, how could you keep them all this time?” cried The Imp,
reproachfully. “Why, a pack of firecrackers means dead loads of fun. Let
me have them, please.”
“What, the whole pack? Not much! I want some fun myself, sometime. I’ll
let you have a dozen crackers, though.”
“All right—I’ll make them do.”
“Want to play a trick on Mumps?”
“Yes, keep your eye peeled for fun.”
This talk took place half an hour before the boys were to start away
from the school. Having procured the firecrackers, Pepper sought out the
school sneak and found him talking to Billy Sabine, a cadet who was at
times a sneak and then again quite a good fellow. Mumps had his gun over
his shoulder and Sabine had his firearms across his elbow. Without being
observed, The Imp lit the long stems of two firecrackers and dropped one
down the barrel of each weapon.
“Hullo, you fellows!” he cried, hurriedly. “Have you heard the news?”
“What’s that?” asked both of the others, while a small crowd began to
collect.
“Somebody has sticks of dynamite, and some of the stuff was put in some
of the guns,” went on Pepper innocently. “You want to look out, or your
gun may explode and blow you to bits.”
“Gracious me, is that possible!” ejaculated Mumps, and turned pale.
“I didn’t know——” began Sabine, and then glanced at the muzzle of his
weapon. “I declare, what makes that smoke? And look, your gun is
smoking, too!” he added, to Mumps.
“It’s the dynamite——” began Pepper, and backed away as if in terror.
“Oh, dear, do you really think so?” quaked Mumps. “If I thought—— Oh!”
Bang! went one of the firecrackers, and both Mumps and Sabine let out
yells of fear. Bang! went the second cracker, and now both cadets threw
their guns from them and ran toward the school building.
“It’s the dynamite! We’ll be blown to pieces!” screamed Mumps.
“Somebody wants to kill us!” roared Sabine, and put his hands to his
ears, as if to keep out the sounds of some awful explosion.
And then both boys disappeared around a corner of the Hall. As they did
this The Imp rushed forward, cleaned the guns of the exploded
firecrackers, and threw the burning bits of cracker paper in some
bushes.
“What a joke!” cried Andy, who has witnessed the scene, and he and a
number of others laughed heartily.
“They’ll be afraid to touch the guns after this,” was Emerald’s comment.
“Sure, they’ll think the old Nick is after bein’ in ’em, so they will!”
“Here they come back!” called out Dave Kearney. “And look, they’ve got
old Crabtree with them!”
“If Crabtree is coming I think I’ll dust out!” murmured Pepper, and lost
no time in disappearing.
Josiah Crabtree was the first assistant teacher, and he was as cordially
hated by the majority of the cadets as George Strong, the second
assistant, was beloved. Crabtree was a fine scholar, but he was
headstrong and sarcastic, and continually “picking” at those under him,
no matter how hard they studied or how well they behaved.
“What is this I hear about dynamite?” he demanded, as he strode up and
glared at the assembled boys.
“Dynamite?” asked Andy innocently. “Did you say dynamite, Mr. Crabtree?”
“I did. There was an explosion out here. These boys’ guns——”
“Why, these guns are all right,” said Dale Blackmore, picking them up.
“I guess Fenwick and Sabine got scared at nothing.”
“They certainly did,” added Andy, and then, getting behind the teacher,
he doubled up his fist and shook it threateningly at Mumps and Billy.
Now, if there was one thing both the younger cadets feared it was a
whipping, and this suggestive attitude of Andy made each of them quail.
They both realized that if they told on Pepper they would be punished
for it. Each took his gun rather sheepishly.
“Fenwick, what have you to say?” began Josiah Crabtree. Just then the
welcome rattle of the drum was heard, calling the battalion to get ready
for the march.
“I—I guess it was a—a mistake,” faltered the sneak. “Can I go and get in
line, please sir?” he added.
“I—er—I suppose so—since this is no time to investigate,” answered
Josiah Crabtree; and off ran Mumps and Sabine, and the others also
departed.
“Well, what did Crabtree say?” asked Pepper of Andy, when he got the
chance.
“Didn’t have time to say much—the drum call broke in on his
investigation. I hope, for your sake, Pep, he doesn’t take it up when we
get back,” added the acrobatic youth.
It was a beautiful day for the outing, and the cadets certainly
presented an inspiring sight as they marched from the campus and turned
into the country road leading to the pasture where the rifle practice
was to be held. Captain Putnam was on horseback, along with George
Strong and an old army officer named Pallott, who was to assist in
showing the boys how to hold their rifles while shooting and how best to
take aim. Behind this little cavalcade came Major Jack with his sword
flashing brightly, and followed by Company A and Company B. To the front
were the two drummers and two fifers, making the welkin ring with their
martial music.
“Hi, you look fine, so you do!” sang out an old farmer, as he drew up by
the roadside with his wagon to let them pass. “You’re a credit to this
section. If I had the money I’d send my son Jock to train with you, yes,
I would!” And he waved a grimy hand after them.
A little later the cadets heard the honk honk of an automobile horn and
soon a big touring car came into sight. It contained Roy Bock, Bat
Sedley and several other students from Pornell Academy. As soon as Bock
saw the young soldiers he stopped his machine.
“Hello, look at the tin soldiers!” he sang out. “Going to hunt
mosquitoes?”
“No, we are going to hunt somebody who knows how to bowl,” retorted
Pepper, who was near.
“Huh! We can bowl right enough and don’t you forget it,” growled Bock.
“Yes, but you can’t beat Putnam Hall,” retorted Dale; and then the
cadets passed on, leaving the bully of the rival school in anything but
a happy frame of mind.
“Those tin soldiers make me sick,” said one of the students in the
touring car.
“We ought to get square with them for taking our trophies away,” said
another.
“They did that because we stole their cannon and flagstaff,” added
another.
“I don’t see how Fred Century can train with them,” added a youth named
Carey.
“We’ll square it up with them some day,” came from Roy Bock. “Just wait
till I think of something good. I’ve got it in for Jack Ruddy, Pepper
Ditmore and that crowd, and don’t you forget it!”
“I’ve got it!” cried another boy. “The whole crowd is away from the
school to-day. Why can’t we visit the place on the sly and turn things
topsy-turvy?”
“Somebody must be left behind,” answered Will Carey, who was far from
brave, as my old readers know.
“That doesn’t matter—we can keep out of the servants’ way—or get them
out of ours,” answered Roy Bock. His crafty face became fixed for a
moment. “That’s a good idea. Let us visit Putnam Hall by all means and
fix things up! When those tin soldiers get back they won’t know what to
make of it!”
“Well, we don’t want to get caught at this,” said Carey.
“Are you afraid?” demanded Bock.
“No, but——”
“No ‘buts’ about it,” said a youth named Grimes, who hated Major Jack
and his chums greatly. “I’m for visiting Putnam Hall to-day. We couldn’t
have a better chance, with the captain and his cadets away.”
The touring car journeyed along slowly and the students from Pornell
Academy talked the matter over carefully. Just as they came in sight of
the Hall they saw a buggy drive away from the entrance and turn in the
direction of Cedarville, the nearest village.
“There goes the head teacher, a fellow named Crabtree,” said Bock. “The
fellow driving him is Peleg Snuggers, the general helper. Boys, outside
of some help that doesn’t count, the coast is clear!”
“I’ve got a scheme,” said Grimes. “Let us hide the auto in the woods,
and then disguise ourselves as tramps by rubbing dust on our faces and
putting on the old auto dusters. Then we can sneak up to the school
building and the gym., and learn how the land lays.”
“Yes,—and turn things inside out,” answered Roy Bock, with a gloating
look. “Oh, won’t they be surprised when they get back to-night!”
The suggestion to hide the touring car and disguise themselves was
quickly put into execution, and then, with great caution, the six
students from Pornell Academy leaped a side hedge and made for the
gymnasium. Here they spent nearly half an hour in “fixing things up” to
their satisfaction. Then they entered the school building by a side
door, and while three went to the library and classrooms the others
ascended to the dormitories. They took care to keep out of the way of
all the hired help, although to do so taxed their ingenuity to the
utmost.
“Now, I reckon we have done something toward squaring accounts,”
remarked Roy Bock, as he led the way back to the touring car. “Even the
servants won’t be able to straighten things out. When those folks get
back they won’t know their own school!”