A CANNON AND A FLAGSTAFF DISAPPEAR
“Jack!”
“What is it, Andy? You look as excited as if you had met a lion face to
face.” And the young major sat up in bed in wonder.
“Hustle into your clothing and come downstairs. Something awful has
happened.”
“What’s up?” asked Pepper, who had overheard the talk.
“The cannon is gone, and so is the flagstaff!”
“What!” came in a chorus from several cadets. “The cannon and the
flagstaff gone?”
“Exactly.”
“Do you mean the new cannon?” queried the young major.
“To be sure I do. The old one is back in the barn.”
“Where has it gone to?” asked Stuffer.
“Nobody knows. It disappeared during the night—and so did the
flagstaff.”
“Did somebody chop the flagstaff down?” asked Dale.
“Sure, an’ anybody mane enough to do that ought to be hung, so they
ought!” growled Emerald.
“No, they didn’t chop it down—they dug it up.”
“And carted it off?” asked Pepper.
“Yes. Come on down. You never saw Captain Putnam so excited in his life.
Peleg Snuggers just called him up. I got up ahead of time because I
couldn’t sleep any longer,” concluded Andy.
The news spread like wildfire, and soon cadets were hurrying downstairs
in droves, some but partly dressed. The alarm was as great as if the
school had been on fire.
The beautiful brass cannon, purchased by Captain Putnam but a few weeks
before, was gone. So was the noble flagstaff which from sunrise to
sunset floated a large American flag. On the grass of the campus were
the marks of the cannon wheels, leading to the roadway. From the hole
left by the flagstaff there was a long, straight mark over the grass
leading to the lake front.
“It is easy to guess what was done,” said Jack. “The cannon was carted
off by the aid of boys, men, or horses. Men or boys dug up the
flagstaff, hauled it down to the lake, and floated it away.”
“Major Ruddy, assemble the battalion at once,” cried Captain Putnam. And
a minute later came the well-known rattle of the drum. But this was not
needed, for all the cadets were already at hand, looking at the spots
where the cannon and the flagstaff had stood, and asking a hundred and
one questions.
“Young gentlemen,” began Captain Putnam, when the two companies of the
battalion stood at attention, “a grave lot of mischief has been done
here. You all know what that mischief is. If any of you are guilty I
want such guilty party or parties to stand forth.”
There was a pause. The cadets looked at each other, but not a boy
budged.
“I want no hanging-fire in this,” went on the master of the Hall. “Fun
is fun, but this is going too far. Is anybody guilty or not? If guilty,
take two steps forward.”
Nobody moved.
“The quartermaster will call the roll. As each name is uttered the cadet
will answer ‘Guilty’ or ‘Not guilty,’ as the case may be. Quartermaster,
are you guilty or not guilty?”
“Not guilty!” was the prompt reply of the cadet who held the position of
quartermaster of the battalion.
The roll was speedily called and every cadet present answered “Not
guilty,” in a loud, clear voice.
“This is strange,” mused Captain Putnam. “Can this have been done by
some outsiders?”
“Captain Putnam, will you allow me to say something,” said Fred Century.
“Certainly. Come here.”
Fred marched to the front and close to the master of the Hall.
“If this is the work of outsiders I think you can blame some of the
fellows of Pornell Academy,” said Fred. “They are very bitter against
the cadets here and would be willing to do something like what has been
accomplished to make trouble.”
“Humph!” murmured Captain Putnam, and his face became a study. “Have you
any proofs against them?”
“No, sir—only I know they wanted to play some kind of a trick.”
“This is a mighty poor trick.”
“I think so myself.”
The battalion was paraded and marched into the mess hall, and Captain
Putnam jumped into his buggy and drove over to Pornell Academy. He
received a very cold reception at Doctor Pornell’s hands.
“My pupils are young gentlemen, never guilty of such rascality,” said
the doctor, haughtily. “I do not deem it necessary to question them
concerning it.” And that was all the satisfaction the master of Putnam
Hall got.
The cadets had to go to their studies after breakfast, but directly the
school sessions were over for the day, many formed searching parties and
went forth hunting for the missing cannon and the flagstaff. Jack headed
a party composed of Pepper, Andy and Dale, to look for the cannon, while
Fred Century took out Bart Conners and Emerald in the _Ajax_, to look
for the flagstaff.
For a short distance along the road Jack and his chums could see the
marks of the cannon wheels quite plainly. But further on the road was
rocky and hard, and there the tracks could not be told from those made
by wagons and automobiles.
“This is a good deal like looking for a pin in a haystack,” observed
Pepper, as they came to a halt at a cross roads. “The question is, Did
they keep straight on, or turn to the right or left?”
“I don’t think they’d dare to take the cannon to Cedarville,” said Andy.
“Somebody would be sure to see them and tell Captain Putnam.”
“I believe Andy is right,” put in Dale. “They must have gone to the
right or the left with the piece.”
“The road to the right runs down to the lake front, and it is soft and
muddy. They’d not be likely to go that way.”
“Not unless they dumped the cannon into the lake,” answered Jack.
“I don’t believe they’d dare do that,” said Dale. “They’d be afraid of
arrest if found out.”
“Then they must have gone up into the woods,” said Jack. “Let us hunt in
that direction first anyway.”
The cadets were now joined by others, until a crowd of at least twenty
were following the road leading through the woods to Benson Pond. For a
distance the road was rocky and hard, then it grew soft, and they beheld
the tracks made by the cannon quite plainly.
“Hurrah! we are on the right road!” cried the young major.
So anxious was the crowd to locate the cannon that nearly all started on
a run. They had to pass directly under some heavy, overhanging trees,
and then came to where there was a stony cliff and something of a shale
road.
“I don’t see the tracks of the cannon any more!” cried one cadet, and
soon the others said the same.
“Wait till we reach some spot where the road is soft,” suggested Dale,
and trudged along hopefully for quarter of a mile. Here they came to the
edge of Benson Pond and the roadway was muddy; but the cannon tracks
were nowhere to be seen.
“We’ve missed it,” said Jack, with something of a groan.
“Let us retrace our steps and look on both sides of the road,” suggested
Pepper. “Maybe we’ll find out just where they left the road. They may
have hauled the cannon right into the middle of the woods.”
They walked back slowly, scattering to both sides of the highway. But
not a sign of the cannon tracks was brought to light.
“This is certainly a mystery,” sighed Dale. “The tracks seem to fade
into thin air. Now they couldn’t make the piece disappear like that.”
“Not unless they blew it up,” said Jack.
“Oh, Jack, do you think they did that?” cried Andy.
“No, I don’t. I’ve got an idea and I am going back to where we saw those
tracks last.” And the young major stalked off, followed by the majority
of the others.
Reaching the place mentioned, Jack began a close inspection of the
ground. Then he moved on slowly, looking first at the ground and then at
the trees overhead. Thus he covered several hundred feet, stopping at a
spot where the roadbed was a solid mass of rock.
“I’ve found the cannon!” he cried suddenly.
“Found it?” came from a dozen others, and they rushed to his side.
“Yes.”
“Where is it, Jack?”
“Up in yonder tree. They hauled it to this spot, tied it to two big
ropes, and pulled it up into the tree. There it is now, shining out
between the leaves!” And the young major pointed in triumph to the
discovery he had made.