ON THE WAY TO OAK HALL
Swiftly the hours rolled away until it was time for Dave to bid his
family and his friends good-by and leave for Oak Hall. The evening
before his departure he took a walk with Jessie, to the end of the
Wadsworth garden, but what was said between the pair was never known to
anybody but themselves. When they came back he was holding her hand, and
both of them looked as if they understood each other perfectly and were
correspondingly happy.
All of the girls, as well as Dave's father, went to the depot to see him
off, and there they met Ben and some of his folks. Then the train came
in, and the youths climbed on board, dress-suit cases in hand. The girls
waved their handkerchiefs.
"Have a good time!" cried Belle, gayly.
"Take good care of yourself, Dave!" added Jessie.
"Don't forget to write," supplemented Laura.
"We'll do everything you want us to do!" shouted Dave, with a smile,
and then he and Ben waved their caps from the car window as the train
rolled forward, and Crumville was left behind.
"Well, we are off at last," observed Ben, as he and Dave settled back in
the seat for the run to the Junction, where they would have to change
cars for Oakdale, the town nearest to the school. "And I am not sorry,
are you?"
"Not at all, Ben. When it comes time to go to Oak Hall I am always glad
to go and meet the other fellows; when the term is over I am equally
glad to get home and see the folks. It is like the seasons--at the end
of the summer I am glad winter is coming, and at the end of winter I am
just as pleased that summer is at hand."
"It's the change, I suppose." Ben stretched out and drew his knees high
up in front of him. "My, but when you come to look at it, what changes
have taken place at Oak Hall since we first went there! Don't you
remember what a bully Gus Plum used to be, and how Chip Macklin used to
toady to him! Now Plum has reformed completely, and Chip is as manly a
little chap as any of 'em."
"It's a pity that Nat Poole can't take a leaf from Gus's notebook and
reform, too," answered Dave.
"Maybe he will--after he sees the error of his ways. But, Dave, what of
athletics this season? Are you going in for them?"
"I am--but not too strongly, Ben. I want to get all the education I
can."
"Want to get through and leave Oak Hall?"
"I don't want to be a schoolboy all my life. I want to get out in the
world and make something of myself."
"What are you going to become after you leave school?"
"I don't know yet. I was talking it over with father and my uncle, but I
haven't reached any decision."
At the Junction the boys had to wait about half an hour for the train to
Oakdale. Dave suggested that they walk over to a candy store and have
some soda water.
"May meet some of the other fellows there," he added. "The train from
the other way came in quarter of an hour ago, and I saw a lot of
dress-suit cases in the baggage room."
As the two youths entered the candy store a shout went up from three
boys who were drinking soda.
"There are Dave Porter and Ben Basswood!"
"Hello, Dave, old man; how are you?"
"My, look at Ben's new suit! It's almost loud enough to talk!"
"Hello, fellows!" answered Dave, and striding forward he shook hands
with the crowd, one after the other.
"Got any of those mountain lions with you?" queried Joseph Beggs, a
round-faced, fat lad. "Heard you brought down about a dozen while you
were on the ranch."
"Yes, Buster, I've got three in my trunk," answered Dave, gayly. "Want
me to let 'em loose!"
"Heard you did up Link Merwell," said Luke Watson, another lad, who was
well liked because of his singing and playing abilities. "I was glad to
hear it."
"So were all of us," broke in the third boy, a tall, slim youth, Maurice
Hamilton by name. "But speaking of mountain lions puts me in mind of a
story. Once three men----"
"The same old Shadow!" interrupted Dave, grabbing his hand and giving it
a squeeze that made the story-teller of the school wince. "Shadow, I
believe you'd try to spin a yarn when you were proposing to your best
girl."
"That sure would be a yarn," cried Ben, as he, too, shook hands.
"I haven't any best girl and you know it," retorted Shadow. "But I say,"
he continued, closing one eye tightly. "How is Miss Jessie Wadsworth,
Dave?"
"Very well," was the answer, and Dave turned a bit red. "Let us have
something," he added, hastily, to the clerk behind the soda fountain
counter. "What shall it be, Ben?"
"Make it a true love frappe," sang out Buster Beggs, with a broad grin.
"But don't forget to put some ginger in it," added Shadow Hamilton.
"My love, how can I leave thee!
One parting hug I give thee!
And now when Oak Hall calls me,
I go, whate'er befalls me!"
sang Luke Watson, and put up his hands as if playing an imaginary
guitar.
"Say, doesn't anybody want to hear that story about the mountain lions?"
queried Shadow, reproachfully. Story-telling was his hobby, and it had
often been said by his friends that he would rather spin a yarn than
eat.
"Some other time, Shadow," answered Buster. "We want to hear about
Dave's trip West, and about what he did to Link Merwell."
"Before I tell you about that, let me give you a piece of news," said
Dave. And then he related how he and the others had met Merwell and
Jasniff with Nat Poole, and how the two former youths were going to
Rockville Military Academy. As he had anticipated, this created quite a
sensation, and a lively discussion followed, which was kept up even
after the crowd got aboard the train which would carry them to Oakdale.
"Well, if Rockville wants such fellows it can have 'em," was Buster
Beggs's comment. "I, for one, am glad they are out of Oak Hall."
"I know one fellow who will be glad they are gone," said Shadow. "That
is Gus Plum."
"Yes, indeed," answered Dave, for he well remembered what influence
Merwell and even Jasniff had exercised over Plum when the youth had
found his appetite for liquor almost too strong for him.
Of course Dave had to go over many of his Western adventures, and the
others listened with keen interest to all he had to tell. When he
mentioned the theft of the horses at the ranch, and how Link Merwell had
been mixed up with the thieves, more than one shook his head.
"According to that, Link and Nick are a team," said Luke Watson. "Dave,
you had better be on your guard. They won't hesitate to play you some
foul trick."
Oakdale, a small but prosperous town, was reached at last, and the
schoolboys piled out of the train, along with a few other passengers.
"Hello, there is Polly Vane!" cried Dave, catching sight of a slender
lad with a girlish face. "How are you, Polly?"
"Oh, it's Dave Porter!" answered Bertram Vane, in a low but pleased
voice. He held out his slender hand. "I am delighted to see you back!
How tanned you are, and how strong-looking!"
"It was the mountain air did it, Polly. By the way, is Horsehair
around?" he continued, with a glance beyond the depot platform.
"Oh, yes! Here he comes now!" And as Polly spoke the big carryall of the
school swung into view, with Jackson Lemond, commonly called
"Horsehair," on the driver's seat. The boys made a rush for the
carryall, throwing their suit-cases in the rack on top, and piling
inside one over the other.
"Horsehair, you're looking fine!"
"How's the widow, Horsehair? Heard you were going to marry a widow with
eight children."
"Nine children, Buster,--don't drop any of the family like that."
"Nothing like getting a ready-made family while you are at it,
Horsehair."
"I heard the widow was a suffragette, Horsehair. Is that right?"
"If she's that, Horsehair, she'll make you mind the children and wash
dishes--better beware!"
"Oh, don't worry about that. Horsehair is an expert at washing dishes,
and at minding babies he once took first prize at a county fair; didn't
you, Horsehair?"
"Say, you!" roared the carryall driver, his face as red as a beet. "You
quit your knockin'! I ain't gittin' married to no widder, nor nobody
else! An' I ain't washin' dishes an' mindin' babies nuther! Such boys!"
And with a crack of his whip he started up the turnout so suddenly that
half the lads were pitched into the laps of the other half.
It was certainly a jolly crowd that rolled over the well-kept highway
toward Oak Hall. They knew that many hard lessons awaited them, and
that, once school opened, discipline would be strict, but just now all
were in high spirits. To the tune of "Auld Lang Syne" Luke Watson
started up the school song, and the others joined in lustily:
"Oak Hall we never shall forget,
No matter where we roam,
It is the very best of schools,
To us it's just like home!
Then give three cheers, and let them ring
Throughout this world so wide,
To let the people know that we
Elect to here abide!"
"That's the stuff!" cried Ben, slangily. "Now, then, for the field cry,"
and then came the Oak Hall cheer:
"Baseball!
Football!
Oak Hall
Has the call!
Biff! Boom! Bang! Whoop!"
"I think we ought to display the school colors!" cried Dave. "Anybody
got a flag?"
"Here is one," answered Polly Vane, from his seat in front, beside the
driver. "But I haven't got a stick for it."
"Never mind, Shadow's fishing rod will do," answered Dave. "Shadow, hand
it over."
"All right, but don't break the rod," said Shadow. "It cost me four
bones."
The rod was put together, and the school colors fastened to the top.
Then the rod was thrust out of a side window of the carryall and waved
in the air, first by one student and then another.
"Look out, that you don't hit nobody with that fishin' pole!" warned the
carryall driver, as the turnout swung around a bend of the road.
He had scarcely spoken when a buggy came into view, driven by a tall,
serious-looking individual, wearing a high silk hat. The buggy swung
forward quickly, directly in line with the fishing rod, and before the
boys could haul the colors in the rod hit the silk hat, sending it
whirling into the bushes beside the roadway.