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Dave Porter Series
DAVE PORTER AND HIS RIVALS
OR THE CHUMS AND FOES OF OAK HALL
BY EDWARD STRATEMEYER
Author of "Dave Porter at Oak Hall," "The Gun Club Boys of Lakeport,"
"Old Glory Series," "Pan-American Series," etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY JOHN GOSS
BOSTON
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
1930
Copyright, 1911, by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.
_All Rights Reserved_
DAVE PORTER AND HIS RIVALS
Printed in U. S. A.
[Illustration: THE PUCK WAS FAIRLY STOLEN FROM MALLORY HIMSELF BY DAVE.]
PREFACE
"DAVE PORTER AND HIS RIVALS" is a complete story in itself, but forms
the seventh volume in a line issued under the general title of "Dave
Porter Series."
When I brought out the first volume of this series, entitled "Dave
Porter at Oak Hall," I trusted that the story would please the young
people for whom it was written, but I did not imagine that so many
thousands of boys and girls all over our broad land would take to Dave
as they have, and would insist upon knowing more about him.
My opening tale was one of boarding school life, and this was followed
by "Dave Porter in the South Seas," whither our hero had gone in search
of his father, and then by "Dave Porter's Return to School," in which
book Dave met all of his friends again and likewise a few of his
enemies.
So far our hero had heard about his father, but had not yet seen his
parent, and the next volume, "Dave Porter in the Far North," related the
particulars of a trip to Norway, where the youth had some stirring
adventures amid snow and ice in the Land of the Midnight Sun.
Coming back to America, the lad was sent again to Oak Hall, as set down
in the next volume, called "Dave Porter and His Classmates." During that
term at school many complications arose, and our hero did something for
the honor of Oak Hall that was a great credit to him.
Dave's father was now with him, but his sister Laura was in the Far
West, and upon her return he received an invitation to visit a large
ranch, and how he went, and what strenuous times he had, were related in
"Dave Porter at Star Ranch."
As soon as his Western outing was at an end, Dave returned home, and
then betook himself once more to Oak Hall. Here, to his surprise, he
found an unusual state of affairs, the particulars of which are given in
the pages that follow.
Once again I thank those who have praised my books in the past. I hope
the present volume will also please them and do them good.
EDWARD STRATEMEYER.
CONTENTS
I. AN AUTOMOBILE RIDE
II. DAVE AND HIS PAST
III. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE FALLS
IV. AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL
V. THE BOYS AND A BULL
VI. A TALK WITH AARON POOLE
VII. ON THE WAY TO OAK HALL
VIII. ABOUT SOME NEW STUDENTS
IX. THE FOOTBALL MEETING
X. LOOKING FOR A MISSING ROWBOAT
XI. A MIDNIGHT FEAST
XII. AN EARTHQUAKE FOR JOB HASKERS
XIII. IN WHICH SOME SHOES ARE MISSING
XIV. WHAT THE GIRLS HAD TO TELL
XV. A RUNAWAY MOTOR-BOAT
XVI. A STRUGGLE ON THE GRIDIRON
XVII. REORGANIZING THE ELEVEN
XVIII. AN INITIATION AND WHAT FOLLOWED
XIX. SNEAK AGAINST SNEAK
XX. THE GREAT GAME WITH ROCKVILLE
XXI. THANKSGIVING, AND A SNOWBALLING CONTEST
XXII. IN WHICH THE SHOES COME BACK
XXIII. HOOKER MONTGOMERY'S STRANGE REQUEST
XXIV. A RACE ON SKATES
XXV. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY
XXVI. A DASH FOR LIBERTY
XXVII. A GAME OF ICE HOCKEY
XXVIII. A DISCOVERY OF INTEREST
XXIX. HOOKER MONTGOMERY'S REVELATION
XXX. THE ENEMY RUNS AWAY
XXXI. ANOTHER VICTORY--CONCLUSION
DAVE PORTER AND HIS RIVALS
CHAPTER I
AN AUTOMOBILE RIDE
"Everybody ready?"
"Yes, Dave; let her go!" cried Phil Lawrence.
"How about you folks in the other auto?" queried Dave Porter, as he let
off the hand brake and advanced the spark and lever of the machine he
was about to run.
"We are all ready," responded Roger Morr.
"Been ready for an hour," added Ben Basswood, who sat beside Roger.
"Oh, Ben, not quite as long as that!" burst out Laura Porter, who was
one of three girls in the tonneau of the second car.
"Well, make it fifty-eight minutes then; I'm not particular," responded
Ben, calmly.
"Are the lunch hampers in?" asked Jessie Wadsworth, anxiously. "Mamma
said we musn't forget anything."
"Trust Dave and Roger to look after the food," burst out Phil Lawrence.
"Likewise Mr. Phil Lawrence," added Dave. "Just wait till it comes lunch
time, and you'll see Phil stow away about fifteen chicken sandwiches,
ten slices of cake, three pickles, five olives----"
"Stop! I draw the line on olives, Dave!" cried Phil, making a wry face.
"Oh, olives are fine; I love them!" cried Belle Endicott.
"Then all that are coming to me are yours," returned Phil, quickly. "But
start her up, fellows, if we are going!" he added, and then, putting a
big horn to his lips, he blew a loud blast.
"Take good care of yourselves!" cried a voice from the veranda of the
mansion in front of which the two automobiles were standing, and Mrs.
Wadsworth waved a hand to the young people.
"We'll try to," answered Dave, and then he threw in the clutch on low
gear, and the big touring car moved gently away, out of the grounds of
the Wadsworth mansion and into the main highway leading from Crumville
to Shady Glen Falls. The second car speedily followed.
It was a late summer day, with a clear blue sky overhead and just enough
breeze blowing to freshen the air. A shower of rain the day previous had
laid the dust of the road and added to the freshness of fields and
woods.
The boys and girls had planned this outing for several days. All of the
youths were to return to Oak Hall school the following week, and they
wished to do something for the girls to remember them by, as Dave
expressed it.
"Might have a party," Roger had suggested.
"No good, unless it was a lawn party," Phil had answered. "It's too
stuffy in the house, these warm days."
"We might take a couple of autos and go for a day's outing up the river
road," Dave had suggested, and this proposition had been accepted
immediately. It was decided that Dave should run the Wadsworth machine,
he having learned to do so some time before, and Roger was to run a car
hired at the new Crumville garage. Each car had a capacity of five
passengers, including the driver, and the party consisted of ten young
people, five boys and five girls.
"Now, Dave, don't let her out for more than fifty miles an hour,"
remarked Sam Day, who sat in the back of the leading auto, between two
of the young ladies.
"Fifty miles an hour!" shrieked Jessie Wadsworth. "What an idea! Dave,
don't you dare!"
"Oh, Lazy is only fooling, Jessie," answered Dave. "He wouldn't want to
ride at that rate of speed himself."
"Twenty miles an hour is fast enough," said Belle Endicott. "I want to
view the scenery. It is lovely around Crumville--so different from
around the ranch."
"Yes, the scenery is fine, even though we haven't such big mountains as
you have out West," answered Dave.
"And Shady Glen Falls is an ideal spot for a picnic," said Jessie. "Papa
took us there last summer."
"You've got to make the most of the Falls this summer," went on Dave. "I
heard in town last week that next year a paper company is going to put a
mill there."
"Oh, Dave, is that the Eureka Paper Company?" questioned Jessie.
"Yes. What do you know about them?"
"Why, I heard papa and your uncle talking about it. It is a company in
which Mr. Aaron Poole holds a big interest."
"Aaron Poole!" murmured the youthful driver of the automobile, and his
face grew serious, as he remembered the trouble he had had with that
mean individual.
"Yes. Papa heard Nat bragging down at the post-office, about what great
things his father was going to do, when the paper company got started."
"That's just like Nat Poole," was Phil Lawrence's comment. "If Nat
couldn't brag about something he'd die."
"By the way, where does Nat keep himself?" questioned Sam Day. "I
haven't met him since I came to Crumville."
"He has been keeping shady--since our little affair at Niagara Falls,"
explained Dave.
"Is he going to return to Oak Hall?"
"I presume so. He left his motor-boat and some other things up there, so
I heard."
"We can get along without Nat Poole, Dave."
"Right you are, Lazy," put in Phil Lawrence. "But maybe, with Link
Merwell gone, he won't be quite so bad as he was."
"Oh, that horrid Link Merwell!" cried Jessie. "I trust we never see or
hear of him again!"
"Well, one thing is certain, Merwell will never get back to Oak Hall,"
said Dave. "He got his walking papers and that settled it. He is out for
good, the same as Nick Jasniff."
"Dave, have you heard anything about Jasniff lately?" questioned Phil.
"One of the boys wrote that he had heard Nick had returned to the United
States. Personally, I haven't seen or heard from him since we met in
Europe--and I don't want to see him," added Dave, earnestly.
Toot! toot! came from behind the leading automobile, and a moment later
the second car ranged up alongside.
"Guess you folks are doing more talking than running!" cried Roger, with
a grin. "Here is where we show you the road!" And in a twinkling the
second car shot ahead, and was "hitting her up," as Ben expressed it, at
thirty miles an hour. Dave immediately turned on more speed likewise,
and over the smooth, straight road both machines spun.
"Oh, Dave, is it safe?" asked Jessie, with a little gasp, as the speed
increased.
"Yes,--as long as we are on the straight road," he answered. "We'll have
to slow down at the turn."
"I like to ride fast--but not too fast," said Lucy Basswood, Ben's
cousin, the other girl in the car.
The turn in the road was almost gained, and both machines had slowed
down once more, when there came a shrill, screeching whistle from
behind, and a racing car shot into sight, moving along with a great
noise, for the muffler had been cut out. All of the girls screamed in
fright, and instinctively Dave and Roger ran their cars as close to the
right side of the road as possible. Then, with a roar, the racing car
shot past, sending up a cloud of dust, and a shower of small stones,
one of which hit Laura Porter in the cheek, and another striking Phil in
the ear.
"Fellows that run that way ought to be arrested," was Roger's comment.
"Oh, I was so afraid we should be struck!" gasped Jessie, sinking back
into her seat with a white face.
"Did you recognize them?" asked Belle Endicott.
"I didn't have time to look," answered Roger. "I was busy getting out of
the way."
"Just what I was doing," added Dave. "I didn't want them to take off the
mudguard, or a wheel."
"I caught sight of one of the fellows," said Ben Basswood. "He looked
right at me as he passed."
"Who was it?" questioned several eagerly.
"Nat Poole."
"Nat Poole!" cried Dave. "Surely, he wasn't driving that racing car."
"No, he was in the rear, with another chap,--and two were on the front
seat. But I didn't recognize any of the others."
"I saw that machine in Crumville last week," said Laura. "I believe it
belongs in Lumberdale."
"I hope those fellows are not bound for Shady Glen Falls," said Laura.
"It would quite spoil our outing, to have such persons around."
"A picnic like ours would be dead slow for that crowd," remarked Phil.
"If they stop anywhere, it will be most likely at some roadhouse, where
they can drink and smoke, and play pool and cards."
The racing car had long since disappeared in the distance, and now the
other automobiles proceeded on their way. The girls were very nervous,
and the boys did all in their power to remove the strain. But the girls
declared that they had had a narrow escape from a serious accident, and
it put much of a damper on the trip.
"If ever I meet the driver of that car I'll give him a piece of my
mind," said Dave. "It's against the law to run at such high speed."
The distance to Shady Glen Falls from Crumville was thirty-five miles.
The last half of the journey was over a winding dirt road, and the boys
had calculated that it would take them two hours to reach the picnic
grounds.
"We'll go by way of Darnell's Corners, and come back by way of Haslow,"
said Dave. "That will give us a sort of round trip." And so it was
decided.
Darnell's Corners was but five miles from the Falls. It was only a small
settlement, boasting of a tavern, a blacksmith shop, a church, and two
stores. As they came in sight of the place Phil uttered a cry:
"There is that racing car now!"
Phil was right, the car stood in front of the tavern, the engine still
running and letting out short puffs of smoke.
"Where are the fellows who were in it?" questioned Sam.
"Must have gone inside for a drink," answered Ben.
"Here come two of them now," said Roger, in a low voice, as the tavern
door swung open and two young men appeared, each wearing a linen duster
and a touring cap.
"It's Nat Poole!" cried Jessie.
"I know that driver," said Dave. "He is Pete Barnaby, a sport from
Lumberdale. He used to follow the horse races before autoing became
popular. He once tried to sell Caspar Potts a horse, but we found out
the animal was doctored up and worthless, and we didn't take him.
Barnaby was furious when the deal fell through."
"I've heard of him," said Ben. "He wanted to sell my father a horse, but
father wouldn't have anything to do with him."
While the boys were talking the tavern door had swung open again, and
now two other persons stepped forth. They, too, wore linen dusters and
touring caps, and one carried a basket containing something to eat and
to drink.
"Dave!" cried Phil, in astonishment. "Look who they are!"
"Link Merwell and Nick Jasniff!" murmured Dave. "How in the world did
they get here, and what underhanded work are they up to now?"