GAMMA'S DESPERATE TACTICS.
Queen's School took the disbarment of Frank Armstrong and Jimmy
Turner from athletics as a serious blow to their chances in baseball
and on the track. Even the Gamma Tau boys, who bore no particularly
kindly feeling toward these two, missed their strengthening
presence--or at least they seemed to. There were some who, whatever
they might have said before the School, inwardly rejoiced that "these
disturbers of the peace" had been neatly shelved by Old Pop-Eye.
Chip Dixon was among the latter. He could never repress a smile
when he met Frank or Jimmy. And Jimmy ached to take him in hand and
show him something that might not have been good for Dixon. But the
opportunity did not come and peace was preserved.
Hockey came and went, and the School team, captained by Dixon and
filled up with his followers from Gamma, lost miserably to Warwick.
Jimmy and Frank watched the game from the side of the improvised rink
on the Wampaug.
"There are better players among the Freshmen," said Jimmy
contemptuously, "but they have no chance. I could pick up a team
among the class teams that would beat the School team at hockey to a
frazzle."
And Jimmy spoke the plain truth. Chip had followed his usual method
of picking out his team from his Society, and he had no eyes for
their faults. But the School was fretting under the burden of Gamma
Tau and of Dixon himself. How much longer he was going to be allowed
to boss everything was a matter of speculation in many a room after
books were laid aside.
"Thank goodness, it is his last year!" said Lewis one night, when
the possibility of the continuance of Dixon as a dictator was being
discussed.
"Yes, but there is Howard Hotchkiss coming along. He is sure to be
the next boss." Hotchkiss was in the third class. He was not an
athlete, but a masterful fellow who could be depended upon to keep
the prestige of the School in the hands of Gamma and not let it get
away for a moment.
"The threatening storm against the Gamma is growing every day," said
David, "and when it comes, there is bound to be fun. Two of the
editors on the _Mirror_, Pickering and Westover, refused the last
elections and they are hot for an opposition society."
"Will it come, do you think?" inquired Frank.
"I wouldn't be surprised to see the sentiment of the class blaze out
into action at any moment. Only to-night Pickering suggested a class
meeting for a conference on a new society. He has been talking it
over with a lot of his friends, and he feels pretty sure we could put
something through if we all got behind it. The only trouble is that
there are so many toadies to the old Society of the Gamma who say
one thing and do another. Most of them grab for a chance to get into
Gamma like a drowning man grabs at a straw."
"I'm for a new society," said Frank, "which will have its elections
on merit, and which will make no distinctions between athletes, good
students, or good fellows who are neither athletes or brilliant at
their studies."
"Oh, ho, I think I have heard you say that the Gamma could be
reformed!" said the Codfish derisively.
"That was before I knew much about it. They are so hardened and set
in their own notions that the only way to reform them is with a good
big club."
A few days later the subject of a new society came up again, and on
the night of a certain day in May about a dozen of the prominent boys
in the class met in Frank's room to talk it over together. Before the
boys separated, it had been agreed to call a meeting of the class in
the big room of the Library, where the whole matter was to come up.
There was to be a general debate on the subject, and Armstrong, as
befitted his position as an athlete in the class, was to make the
principal speech. In the room were, of course, several friends of
Gamma Tau, and it was not long before the information had penetrated
to Dixon and other leaders of the old Society.
"Going to form a new society, are they? Well, we'll see about that!
The School isn't big enough for what it has now in the way of
societies. We'll pack that meeting full of our own men of the class
and block everything they try. We'll see what they can do to old
Gamma!"
Meanwhile, the Queen's baseball team continued to lose steadily.
With Frank out of the game, there was no pitcher who could do even
passable work. Dixon, in desperation, gave up his position behind
the bat to the substitute catcher, a fellow named Watson, and went
into the box himself. But he only lasted for one game, the game with
Porter School, in which the latter fairly buried Queen's under the
score of 14 to 3! It was then that resentment began to show itself in
even the mildest of the students. The feeling was particularly strong
in the second class, of which our friends were members. David Powers
wrote an article on the situation for the _Mirror_, but the article
never appeared in that paper, for the Chief Editor of the paper,
under whose eye the article fell, was a Gamma boy, and he thought it
too outspoken. David Powers promptly resigned from the paper, and
the reason of his resignation soon became known to the class and the
school at large. The incident strengthened the determination of every
one to have a fight with Gamma to the death, and particularly roused
our friends in Honeywell.
Affairs came rapidly to a climax. David and the Codfish put their
heads together and prepared a poster calling on the class to meet in
the Library room set aside for meetings of the class by the School
authorities. The School woke up one morning in the latter part of May
to find the posters boldly displayed on tree trunks and on various
conspicuous points about the School. The announcement of the meeting
was ripped down by the Gamma boys, who well knew what was going on,
but the poster had had its effect and every one was on tip-toe.
At last the eventful day arrived. The Codfish and David, with the
help of Lewis and Jimmy, had spent many hours on the constitution of
the society. Fifteen boys were to be chosen from the Second Class
and they were to be selected on merit. Two members of the teaching
staff were to be taken into the society as honorary members and they
were to be consulted in the elections. David, who had spent days on
the work, had searched the constitutions of all the school societies
he could get hold of and had, with his associates, selected the best
from them and rejected what seemed not suitable for the new society.
The draft of the constitution was to be presented that night before
the class meeting in the Library, where discussion would be open.
Frank, who was looked upon as a popular leader, had been chosen, as
we have said, to present the whole matter at the meeting.
"If I'm going to do this stunt," said Frank, after the boys had
returned to their room after supper that evening, "you've all got to
clear out and let me have a little time to myself. I've got to think
what I'm to say."
"All right, Napoleon," said the Codfish, "we'll skip and let you
compose yourself. If any big thoughts stick, look us up," and he
scampered out of the door, eager to talk the coming great event over
with others of his class.
Frank was left alone, and he set himself to work up a speech that
should present the matter to his classmates. He was before his little
desk in Honeywell thinking hard and chewing the end of a lead pencil
as an aid, when there came a rap on the half-open door.
Frank turned around and saw a small boy standing just outside the
door.
"Hello, son, what is it?" he said, turning again to the matter before
him.
"Please, are you Frank Armstrong?"
"I'm that chap," said Frank, scratching away with his pencil.
"Well, please," said the boy, "there's a man wants to see you."
"That's nice; where is he?"
"Down at the baseball field."
"Down at the baseball field!" echoed Frank. "Why doesn't he come
up here? I haven't time to go down to the baseball field to see a
man. I've got important business on to-night. Tell him I'll see him
to-morrow. I haven't time to see him to-night, unless he comes up
here."
"Oh," said the boy, "he said this was very important for you; that he
had some news to tell you about the trouble in the bell tower."
Frank gave a long whistle and stood up, interested at once. He looked
at the clock over the mantel. It was half past seven and the meeting
was set for eight o'clock.
"He said he could tell you who did the mischief in the bell tower and
prove it to you," continued the boy, "but that he couldn't come up to
your room."
"I've half a mind to go and see this strange man who knows so much.
I can be back in half an hour or less," he said half to himself.
Then to the boy, "All right, kid, I'll go along with you, for that
business of the bell tower is something I'd like to get to the
bottom of myself." Then aside, "I'll pick up Jimmy and the Codfish
and we'll see what he knows."
"The man said you must come alone, for he doesn't want to be seen by
any one at the School except yourself."
"More mystery. All right, kid, tell him I'll be along in a minute and
I'll be alone."
The boy waited to hear no more, but darted out of the door and was
off like a flash. Frank followed more leisurely after folding David's
draft of the constitution and putting it in his inside coat pocket,
along with some of the scribbled notes of his speech. "I can think
of what I'm going to say as I go along," he thought, "and no time is
lost. I wonder why this fellow is so secret about the appointment."
He picked up his cap from the desk, tripped gayly down the steps and
out into the yard. None of his friends happened to be in view, and he
hurried on in the gathering twilight across the yard, down past the
end of Warren Hall, and down the pitch of the hill to the playground
below. Over in the distance the baseball stand loomed darkly. But on
the open field there was still plenty of light. He headed directly
for the baseball stand, whistling brightly. "What on earth can this
man have to tell me?" he said over and over to himself. "Well, I'll
know presently."
He had now come to the outfield of the baseball diamond. Peering
ahead into the shadow cast by the stand, he thought he saw a figure
moving. Advancing to the diamond itself he spoke out loudly:
"Hullo, any one here want to see me?"
A figure slouched out of the shadow and approached Frank to within a
distance of ten or fifteen feet. "You are Frank Armstrong?" said a
voice that Frank had never heard before.
"Yes," answered Frank. "What is all this about? If you have anything
to tell me, tell it to me quick, for I've got to get back."
"It's pretty important news for you, kid," said the man, coming a
step or two closer. "I happen to know all about that affair, who did
it, and why it was done, and I've got the proofs for you. Look at
that paper," he added, drawing a folded sheet of white paper from his
pocket and handing it to Frank. Frank reached for the paper, took it,
and bent his head in the dim light to read the writing. As he did so,
the strange man sprang upon him, threw an arm around his neck and
held him as securely as in a vise. The attack had been so sudden that
Frank was powerless to make the faintest resistance. And even had he
had the chance, he would have been helpless in that fierce clasp.
"Hey, Bill," called his captor, "come over here and help me truss him
up. We've got him, all right."
There was a sound of feet running across the grass, and in an instant
two more men appeared from the shadow of the baseball stand. Each
seized an arm of the captured boy, and the man who had made the first
attack released his hold on Frank's neck.
"What's this all about?" said Frank huskily. The stranger had nearly
choked the wind out of him in the tight grasp in which he had held
him until help arrived. "I have no money."
"We don't want your money, kid," said one of the men. "We just want
you, and everything will be easy for you if you come along without
kicking."
"Come along where?"
"Never mind, that's our little secret."
Frank opened his mouth to yell for help, but a big hand immediately
closed over it and shut off his cry. "Come, none of that!"
"Put that towel over his mouth!" said one of his captors. A towel
was whipped out by one of them and in a jiffy he was effectually
prevented from making any outcry, and it had been so placed that he
could not see. "Now, come along, young fellow, we're not going to eat
you."
Two of the men linked their arms in his, and, preceded by the third,
they set out at a rapid pace toward the path that ran down along
the river edge. Frank tried to hang back, but he was firmly urged
forward, and, seeing the uselessness of resistance in the face of
such overwhelming odds, he gave up and went along quietly, waiting a
chance to escape by some stratagem.
After a walk of a few minutes, Frank's captors halted and turned
toward the river. Frank felt the cold chills race up and down his
spine as he stood, held firmly between the two. "What does it
all mean?" he thought to himself. The man who had preceded them
disappeared for a moment in the alder bushes which fringed the bank.
In a moment his voice sounded from below: "The boat's here; hurry it
up and let's get it finished."
Half walking and half sliding, they reached the water's edge. Without
any ceremony Frank was forced into the boat, the others followed, and
one of the men, after pushing off, began to row rapidly. Two or three
hundred yards down stream he beached the boat, sprang out and held
her, while the others, still grasping Frank, scrambled out awkwardly.
The boat was pulled up a little and then, in the same order as the
procession had started, it continued on what seemed to be an old road
overgrown with grass. Five minutes of twisting and turning through
trees and tangled shrubbery, during which time Frank, by moving his
face muscles, had uncovered one eye, brought them to a house, but it
was shrouded in the deepest gloom. No lights shone from its windows
and no sounds of life came from within. All was dreary and desolate,
and a chill struck to Frank's heart as he suddenly recognized the
place. It was the Jackson house on the back road to Hamilton, and it
was reported to be haunted. Some deed of blood had been done there
years before and the house since that time had been vacant. After
nightfall few ventured that way. Queer lights were said to have been
seen about the house at night. The road was little traveled by man
or beast at any hour. Through a broken gate hanging crazily by one
hinge the procession passed, and up the overgrown walk to the door.
Halting here, the leader fumbled in his pocket and produced a key,
which he inserted in the lock of the door. There was a grinding sound
as the bolt shot back.
"Here's where you stay for a few hours, young fellow," said one of
his captors. "Nice comfortable shack. You'll have lots of visitors in
there and you needn't be a bit lonesome."
Frank fought hard against his imprisonment. He struggled and
scratched and kicked with all his might, and braced against the door
jamb. But he was soon overpowered and pushed within. The door was
jerked back quickly and Frank was alone in the haunted house. Turned
by the key on the outside, the lock shot squeaking back into its
socket. Just then the clock on the Queen's School tower boomed the
hour of eight!