Dave Porter and the Runaways: or, Last Days at Oak Hall

“Not that I know of.”

“Very well, then.” Job Haskers drew a breath of relief. “See that you keep your word. And about the lessons – if three weeks are not long enough, I may – er – be able to give you a little more time.”

“That time will be enough,” replied Dave.

“We’ll make it with ease,” added Roger.

“Then that is settled, and you may go,” and so speaking, Job Haskers left the room. The two boys followed him, and went out on the campus.

“How did you make out?” questioned Phil, as he ran up to them.

“We got our time,” answered Roger.

“But let me tell you one thing,” said Dave. “After this Haskers is going to hate us worse than ever.”

“I don’t see why,” declared the shipowner’s son. “I think we are letting him off mighty easy.”

“He feels as if he had been forced into doing what we want,” went on Dave. “I think he looks at it as if you had used that Mrs. Breen incident as a club over him.”

“Well, it was a club in one sense, Dave.”

“I know it, Phil, and, although I am glad we have won out and gotten that extra time, still I am sorry that you and Ben went to him as you did.”

“Humph! did you think I was going to sit still and be put back into a lower class?”

“Maybe it might have been better if you had gone to Doctor Clay.”

“I don’t think so,” replied Phil, shortly; and then the school-bell rang again and all the boys had to go to their next classes.

In spite of the cloud that thus hung over the affair, every one of the chums was glad of the extra time in which to make up the lost lessons. Not one of them had to grind away as hard as before, and Dave took a little time off, in which to send a letter to his father and another to Jessie.

The next day was warm and pleasant and, after school-hours, Roger proposed to Dave that they take a walk up the woods road back of the school.

“All right, a walk in the woods will do us good,” was the answer. “Shall we ask some of the others?”

“If you wish,” and in the end Phil went along, and also Buster Beggs and Gus Plum.

“My, but I had a run-in with old Haskers this afternoon,” said the stout youth. “I came close to carrying the matter to the doctor.”

“What was it about?” questioned Dave.

“Oh, nothing at all, to my way of thinking. I went to the library to get a book and he accused me of wasting my class time. He was very ugly. I won’t stand for much more of it,” grumbled Buster.

Dave said no more, but he and Roger exchanged glances. Evidently the irate instructor was going to “take it out of somebody,” as the saying goes.

The boys walked on and on, along the road, until Oak Hall was left far behind. Soon Buster forgot his troubles, and the crowd were chatting gayly of many things.

“Call for candidates for the baseball team next Saturday,” announced Gus Plum. “I hope we get up a team this year that knocks the spots out of Rockville Military Academy and all the other institutions we cross bats with.”

“Are you going to try for the nine this term, Gus?” questioned Dave.

“Sure! Why not? You’ll try, won’t you?” went on the big youth, in surprise.

“No, I’ve decided not to go into athletics this term, Gus. I want to give all my time to my studies.”

“Yes, but the nine needs you, Dave!” put in Buster. “I heard some of the fellows talking about it only yesterday. They had you slated for your old position.”

“Well, if Gus wants to play, he can fill the box,” answered Dave.

“But we need more than one pitcher,” insisted Buster.

“There are plenty of new students coming along. I hear Thomas is a good one, and so is Ennis.”

“I’m not going to play, either,” said Roger. “I want to graduate with all the honors possible.”

“How about you, Phil?”

“I – I think I’ll play,” answered the shipowner’s son, rather lamely. “I’ll see about it later.”

“Well, I don’t want to neglect my studies,” said Gus Plum. “But I have done some hard work this winter and so I am pretty well ahead. I didn’t lose time going to Cave Island, you know,” he added, with a smile.

“Well, it was worth it – losing that time,” answered Dave. “It saved Mr. Wadsworth from ruin, and that’s a good deal.”

“If the baseball nine–” commenced Buster, and then broke off short. “What was that?” he demanded, as a cry from a distance broke on the ears of all.

“It’s a woman’s voice!” cried Dave, quickly. “She is calling for help! Come on and see what is the matter!” And he started off on a run, with his school chums at his heels.

CHAPTER IX

THE KING OF SUMATRA

The boys had been traveling along a broad highway that ran to a town on the other side of the woods. The trees were thick and so were the bushes, with here and there a big rock, covered with the dead vines of the summer previous.

At one point some distance ahead was an old stone house, standing where another road ran in the direction of the river. This house had not been inhabited for years, and the doors and windows were gone, and the falling of the chimney had smashed in a large portion of the sloping roof.

It was from in front of the old house that the cries for assistance came, and now the boys heard two voices, both somewhat girlish in tones.

“Oh, let me go! Please, let me go!” came, wildly.

“You have no right to touch us!” was added, in another voice.

“What’s the matter?” called out Dave, as loudly as he could. But in his mind there had already flashed an inkling of what was going on. For some time past the wild man of that locality had not shown himself. Now, perhaps, he was again at his old tricks.

“Oh, make him go away!” screamed a girlish voice, and then, as our hero made a turn of the road, he caught sight of two girls standing near the old stone house. Back of them was another figure, that of a tall, powerful man, but this figure disappeared as if by magic, behind the ancient building.

“Why, Miss Rockwell!” exclaimed Dave, as he recognized a young lady from town whom he knew well. “And you, too, Miss Feversham! What is the matter?”

“That man – the wild man!” panted Vera Rockwell. “He – he – stopped us!”