CAUGHT IN THE ACT
Reff Ritter and his crowd were exceedingly angry over the outcome of the
launch affair. They had rowed around in the darkness and the rain until
they were tired, and now they were fairly aching to pay Jack and his
chums back for sending them on the wild goose chase.
“I think I can fix Ruddy and Ditmore,” said the bully to Coulter, during
the time when the young major and his chums were having their meeting in
the woods with Bert Field. “I’ve got a plan for getting them into no end
of trouble.”
“All right, let me hear what it is,” answered Coulter, quickly.
“Will you promise to keep it a secret, Gus? This is no ordinary affair,
and we can’t afford to be found out.”
“You can depend on me.”
“We might take in Paxton, but I won’t trust Sabine. He is too
weak-kneed.”
“Right you are. Take in Nick and that’s all.”
A little later Paxton was called into the tent where Ritter and Coulter
sat and then the leader of the ne’er-do-wells unfolded his plan to get
Jack and Pepper into trouble.
“We might involve the others,” said Ritter. “But Ruddy and Ditmore are
the leaders. I’m hoping we can have them both dismissed from the
school.”
“Say, that would be great!” murmured Coulter.
“It would suit me down to the ground,” added Paxton. “I’ve hated them
ever since I came to Putnam Hall.”
“But it must be kept a secret, remember that,” continued Ritter, in a
hoarse whisper. “Not a word to anybody, on your life!”
Both Coulter and Paxton were at first startled when Ritter broached his
plan and each shook his head. But gradually the bully won them over, and
they agreed to aid him in the undertaking.
Ritter had learned during the morning that George Strong had been to
Ithaca on business and had brought back with him a box containing a
collection of rare United States paper money. In the collection were old
five, ten, fifteen, twenty-five and fifty-cent bills worth many times
their real value, as curiosities. The teacher was writing a magazine
article on the art of paper money engraving and was studying the
collection for that purpose.
Ritter’s scheme was to confiscate the entire collection of paper money
and hide the various bills in the clothing and other things belonging to
Jack and Pepper. The trick, taken as a whole, was not a particularly new
one, but Ritter was not a particularly brilliant youth when it came to
thinking out new things.
“When do you want to work this game?” asked Paxton.
“The sooner the better,” was the answer. “Strong may not keep the
collection longer than to-morrow.”
“Then we’ll have to do it to-night,” said Coulter. “What do you want us
to do?”
“Come with me and keep watch while I get the stuff. Then both of you can
help me stow the bills away in Ruddy and Ditmore’s clothing.”
The plotters waited until all was quiet and then stole through the camp
to where was located the tent occupied by George Strong. Here they came
to a halt at the rear of the tent and listened intently.
“He’s asleep,” whispered Ritter.
“Well, you look out that you don’t wake him up,” answered Coulter in a
voice that shook from nervousness.
“I’ll be careful. If you see anybody coming give a low whistle,”
continued the bully. “Remember to look in every direction.”
Coulter and Paxton promised to keep their eyes open, and as silently as
a shadow Reff Ritter walked around to the front of the tent, untied the
flap and peered inside.
All was dark, yet in a faint way he discerned George Strong resting on a
cot and sleeping soundly. He tiptoed his way into the tent and felt
around.
He knew the collection of rare paper money was in a square wooden box
with a brass handle. It rested on a campchair close to the head of the
cot.
As Ritter touched the wooden box the teacher gave a heavy sigh and
turned over. With his heart in his throat the bully crouched down on the
floor in a corner. But the teacher did not awaken, and soon commenced to
breathe as regularly as ever.
Once Ritter had the wooden box in his grasp he lost no time in quitting
the tent. As he came outside Paxton gave a low whistle.
“What’s wrong?”
“A guard is coming this way—lay low!”
The three boys threw themselves flat on the ground and remained there,
scarcely daring to breathe. It was the corporal of the guard who was
approaching, and he had another cadet with him.
“You say you saw somebody sneaking around here?” asked the corporal.
“I did,” answered the guard.
“Who was it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I’ll take a walk through the whole camp,” said the corporal. “You
can go back to your post.”
The guard left, and the corporal walked off in the direction of the tent
occupied by Captain Putnam. Then he went down one of the company
streets, and at last disappeared into his own quarters.
“Say, that was a close shave!” muttered Coulter.
“Well, a miss is as good as a mile,” answered Ritter, coolly. “Come on,
if we want to get some sleep to-night.”
“Say, I’m beginning to think this is a dangerous piece of business,” was
Paxton’s comment. His teeth were chattering, but not from cold.
“You can’t back out now,” answered the bully, quickly.
“But if we are found out——”
“We won’t be found out—unless you blab.”
“Oh, I’ll not say a word,” answered Paxton hastily.
“Then come into the tent.”
They entered the tent occupied by the bully, and Coulter lit a candle.
By the faint light afforded Ritter opened the wooden box, took out the
paper money and divided it into three parts.
“Now, I’ll take my share and hide it in Ruddy’s things,” said Ritter.
“And what do you want us to do?” asked Coulter.
“Put your share in Ditmore’s clothing and in his dress-suit case.”
“Supposing he is awake?” asked Paxton.
“He won’t be—he’ll be asleep and snoring like a top.”
“All right. But if he is awake I’ll not go in,” said Paxton.
“Don’t be chicken-hearted, Nick.”
“I don’t want to be caught.”
“You won’t be caught.”
“Come on,” said Coulter. “We’ll do our share, you do yours,” he added,
to Ritter.
The cadets separated, each with the old paper money stuck in the bosom
of his coat, where he could get at it easily. Ritter hurried directly to
the tent occupied by the young major of the school battalion.
He knew he must act with caution and so listened closely at the flap of
the tent. Not a sound came from within.
“Wonder if he is out?” mused the bully and opened the flap cautiously.
Then he saw in a dim way that the tent was empty.
“Maybe he is off on a lark,” said Ritter to himself. “Well, so much the
better, although I’d like to put some of the money in the uniform he is
wearing. When he is found out he’ll have to explain where he has been.”
As the tent was empty Ritter did not hesitate to light a candle he
carried. By the rays thus afforded he found Jack’s dress-suit case and
in it stuffed some of the paper money. Then he took the young major’s
extra uniform and placed some of the bills in the pockets and lining of
that. He placed the last of the bills under the sheet on the cot.
“Ritter, what are you up to?”
The question came so unexpectedly that the bully jumped as if shot. He
was on the point of blowing out the candle when it was snatched from his
grasp. Swinging around, he found himself confronted by Jack, just
returning from the conference with Bert Field.
“Why, I—er—” stammered the bully. He was so dumbfounded he did not know
what to say.
“What did you hide on my cot, under the sheet?” went on the young major.
“I—er—nothing.”
“I saw you put something there. What was it?”
“I didn’t put anything there,” answered Ritter stubbornly. “You let me
go!” And he tried to brush past Jack.
“This is my tent and you have no right in it,” cried the young major.
“You give an account of yourself,” and now he caught the bully tightly
by the arm.
Hardly had he done this when with a cry of commingled alarm and rage the
bully struck out, hitting Jack in the face. Then he broke loose, blew
out the light, and ran out of the tent.