A PLOT AGAINST BART
The man seemed to pay no attention to the approach of the boys' boat. He
kept on dipping the long pole into the water, shoving it down as far as
it would go, and then carefully examining the end of it. As the chums
came nearer they saw he was conducting his investigations by means of a
large magnifying glass.
"Must be small fish he's after," observed Frank.
"Why it's the luna--" began Fenn, as he looked at the man, whose boat
was now opposite that of the boys.
"Hush!" exclaimed Frank, and Fenn did not finish the sentence.
The chums saw the man was the strange person they had met in the woods.
At the same time the fellow looked up and seemed to recognize them.
"Have you seen the King of Paprica?" he asked, as he laid down his pole
and began to pull up the rope attached to a small anchor.
"Not to-day," replied Bart. "What are you fishing for, if I may ask?"
"You certainly may," was the answer. "I am probing for bullets."
"For bullets?"
"Yes, you see the king observed some one shooting up the river last
night, and he directed me to probe for the bullets."
"Shooting up the river?" inquired Ned.
"Yes, in a boat, you know. Did you think I meant a gun? How could one
shoot up in a gun? But don't mention to the king that you saw me. He's
not expecting to hear from me, and it might annoy him," and the man
allowed the boat to drift down stream again before he brought it to
anchor. Then he began sticking the pole down into the mud and resumed
his operation of examining the end with the magnifying glass.
"Crazy as a loon," remarked Frank, in a low tone. "Row on, fellows."
"I'd like to go ashore and have a look into that hut," remarked Ned.
"Better not," cautioned Frank. "There!" he exclaimed, "I've got one,"
and he pulled in a fine large fish.
He had several bites after that, and, becoming interested in his
success, Ned and Fenn rowed further up stream where the fishing was
better. Frank caught eight fish before the boys decided to go home. They
looked for the strange man in the boat, as they floated past where he
had been, but he was not in sight, nor was his craft to be seen.
"Something's up," remarked Ned to Bart, as they met the next Monday on
the school campus.
"What do you mean?"
"Keep your eye on Sandy Merton."
Indeed Sandy did seem to be unusually busy. He went about from one part
of the grounds to another, talking first with one boy and then with
another. Most of them were lads with whom the chums were not on very
familiar terms.
"What do you s'pose he's up to?" asked Bart.
"Can't guess, unless it has something to do with baseball."
"I'm going to find out," spoke Bart.
He approached one of the boys with whom he had seen Sandy conversing.
"What was Sandy asking you, if it's no secret?" inquired the captain of
the nine.
"Well, it is a sort of secret," replied Fred Jenkins. "You'll hear of it
soon enough though," and he turned away.
"Looks like a plot," commented Ned with an uneasy laugh.
Several other boys, whom Bart asked regarding Sandy's activities,
returned evasive answers. None of the intimate friends of the chums had
been approached. Bart had no time to pursue his inquiries further as the
bell rang for school to assemble.
At noon, however Sandy's actions were explained. On a bulletin board,
used to post announcements of athletic and other school events, was this
notice:
"There will be a meeting of the Athletic Committee this
afternoon to take action on a certain matter."
"That's some of Sandy's work," said Bart. "Well I'm ready for whatever
happens."
Several boys crowded around the board to read the notice. Sandy was not
among them.
"Who wrote it?" inquired a number.
"Whoever did was afraid to sign his name," commented Bart. "It's in
printing, so we couldn't tell whose writing it is. Well, I'll be at the
meeting."
It was an expectant group that gathered in the court which was used,
after school, for sessions of the various clubs and teams. Sandy was on
hand, talking earnestly to a number of the pupils. Finally he walked up
to the big iron post where the chairman of whatever gathering was
called, usually stood.
"We're here to elect a new captain of the High School baseball nine,"
Sandy announced.
"What's that?" asked several, and the four chums looked at one another.
"I'm a member of the Athletic Committee," went on Sandy. "I called this
meeting."
"It takes a majority of the committee to call a session," interrupted
Ned.
"Well, a majority did," responded Sandy. "Fred Jenkins, Peter Rand, and
John Andrews, with myself, constitute a majority. There are only seven
members. Now we've decided to have an election for a new captain," Sandy
went on. "There's some objection to the present one," and he looked at
Bart.
"Who from?" called Fenn.
"Plenty; ain't there fellows?" asked Sandy, turning to a group of his
friends.
"Yes," came the rather feeble answers.
"I move that Lem Gordon be made captain," called Fred Jenkins, evidently
in furtherance of the plot Sandy had laid to oust Bart.
"Second it," came from Peter Rand.
"Look here!" exclaimed Bart, and his friends noticed he was pale. "Why
didn't you come to me like a man, Sandy Merton, and tell me there was
opposition? I'd have resigned in a minute. But this is a sneaky way of
doing things and I'll fight it, do you understand? I'll resign if the
majority says I ought to but not before. Now go ahead and hold your
election!"
"Hurrah for Bart!" called some one and there was a loud shout.
"Order!" vainly called Sandy.
"We don't want an election!" sang out another boy. "Bart is the best
captain we ever had! Didn't we lick the Preps?"
"That's right!" yelled a number. "Bart for captain!"
"Let them have the election!" cried Bart. "I'm not afraid. I know what
it's all about. It's because I didn't let Sandy pitch that game. And
what's more," he added, "I believe he deliberately put Lem out of
business so he might have a chance!"
"That's a falsehood!" cried Sandy, making a spring toward Bart.
"Ask Lem," was Bart's reply. "If you want to fight, Sandy Merton, come
on!"
"Don't talk that way," counseled Ned. "Let's see if we can't settle this
thing peaceably."
"Go on with the election!" called Bart, who was getting excited. "I'm
not afraid! I'll resign if you want me to!"
"We don't want you to!" cried a score of voices.
"All those in favor of Lem Gordon for captain say 'aye,'" called Sandy.
"I won't take it!" shouted Lem. "Bart's the captain for me."
"That's right!" yelled a dozen voices.
"All those who want Bart to continue captain say so!" cried Ned.
"Yes!" and the shout made the windows rattle.
"That settles it. Election's over," declared Ned.
"I say it isn't!" yelled Sandy. "The rules provide for ballots."
"This is good enough for us," came from a number of boys, as they
crowded around Bart to shake hands. "Bart's the captain!"
"That was a mean, sneaking plot!" declared Ned. "Sandy thought he could
work up enough sentiment against Bart to get a candidate of his own in
and get back on the team. But he failed."
"You bet he did!" exclaimed Fenn. "Come on, fellows. It's all over."
Most of the boys began leaving the court. Sandy, the picture of
disappointed rage, stood in a group of his friends.
"Thanks to all who voted for me," called Bart, as he made his way out
past where Sandy stood.
"I'll get even with you!" growled Sandy. "You think you're the Czar of
the school!"
"If you--" began Bart hotly, but Ned spoke:
"Don't pay any attention to him. You'll only get into trouble. It's all
over. It was only a trick of Sandy's. He hasn't ten friends in the whole
school."