The Putnam Hall Rivals

“I can’t – oh, gracious! Don’t burn me, I tell you! Keep back!” The sweat was pouring from the man’s face. “I can’t – Well, here goes! This here school is the best in the world. You fellers is the best in – keep back with that torch! You fellers is the worst – I mean the best in the world. I’m glad to serve you, but I’d be gladder if you’d leave me – get back, I say! It’s been a juberous day, and we are all – we – are all – ”

“Overflowing with joy,” suggested Jack.

“I ain’t overflowing with joy – oh, get back! Yes, I am, and this glorious school – Oh!”

The speech came to a sudden end, as the top of the barrel gave a crack. Down went the general-utility man into the barrel, which rolled from the box to the ground.

“Hullo!” cried Pepper. “Peleg wants a roll! Let’s give it to him.”

“I don’t want – ” began the poor man, but could say no more. Over and over went the barrel, around the campus, with Snuggers in it, the cadets shrieking wildly with joy. Then down the hill to the rear it went.

“It’s going into the lake!”

“Can he swim?”

“I don’t think he can!”

“I ain’t goin’ into the lake!” screamed Peleg Snuggers, and clutched at some tufts of grass as he passed. This served to turn the barrel in a different direction, and it brought up against a tree with a bang. Then the general-utility man crawled out and ran for the barn. He did not show himself again for the balance of that evening.

The fun was carried into the school, and late that evening there were several pillow-fights which George Strong and Josiah Crabtree had to stop. In the mix-up one of the pillows burst open, and Crabtree got all the feathers over his head and had to beat a retreat. But by midnight the fun came to an end and the school became as quiet as usual.

During the following week the boys had something to do which pleased the majority of them a great deal. For three afternoons of the week a part of each company went out for target practice. The targets were set up in a field some distance from the lake, where it would be perfectly safe to shoot at them. Each student was given five shots, and if he was a poor marksman Captain Putnam took it upon himself to teach the lad how to shoot better.

Jack, Andy, and Dale went out together, and the youthful major of the battalion was lucky enough to make forty-seven points out of a possible fifty.

“That is very good, Major Ruddy,” said Captain Putnam. “I am glad to know that our major can shoot so well.”

“Well, I suppose a commander ought to know something about it,” answered Jack, modestly.

When it came Andy’s turn to shoot, the acrobatic lad made forty-one out of a possible fifty. This was not so high, but as thirty-five was considered the passing mark there was no complaint.

“Well, I suppose it could be worse,” was Andy’s comment. He had been afraid that he would not pass, for he did very little shooting.

Reff Ritter was the next student up, and by luck more than anything else he made forty-three points.

“I learned to shoot in Paris,” he said, loudly. “A French expert taught me.”

“That was very good,” said Captain Putnam, quietly.

Gus Coulter came next and at first failed to hit the target. His total was twenty-eight points.

“I shall have to give you a few lessons in shooting,” said the master of the Hall.

“The – er – the wind was too strong,” grumbled Coulter.

At that moment came a wild cry from one side of the field.

“Mad dog! Mad dog! Save me! Save me!”

CHAPTER XVI

ABOUT A MAD DOG

“Where is the mad dog?” cried Dan Baxter, in alarm.

“There he is!” shouted Gus Coulter, turning pale. “Oh, I do hope he doesn’t come this way!”

All of the cadets and the others present looked in the direction from whence the cries proceeded. They saw a middle-aged woman running along a footpath to the side of the field. Behind her was a big dog, who was frothing at the mouth and snapping his teeth together viciously.

“Help me! Save me from the dog!” cried the woman. She was evidently some farmer’s wife who lived in the neighborhood. She had been carrying a basket, but had thrown the article at the dog, in a weak effort to stay his progress.

When the alarm came Jack had one of the rifles in his hand. It was loaded, and now he turned quickly with the weapon.

“Take care! Don’t hit the woman!” began Captain Putnam, when the crack of the weapon cut short his warning. Taking hasty aim, the young major had fired at the mad animal. A yelp followed, the dog leaped high in the air, and then came down and lay still.

“Good! Jack nailed him!” shouted Andy. “A fine shot!”

“Let me see if he is dead,” said Captain Putnam, and catching up another rifle he ran forward, followed by half a dozen cadets. Soon they reached the woman, who was on the point of fainting from fright and from running.

“Is he – he – dead?” she faltered.

“Yes, he is dead,” announced the master of the Hall, making a close examination. “The bullet must have gone straight through his brain.”

“He was mad, wasn’t he?” went on the woman, recovering a bit.

“Beyond a doubt, and very violent, too.”

“He scared me nearly to death. When I first saw him he was tangled up in some old fence-wire. It seemed to have set him crazy. I tried to get away from him, but as soon as he got shut of the wire he came after me.”

“It was lucky that this young man shot him,” said the captain, and pointed at Jack.

“Oh, did he do it?” cried the woman. “I thought you did it.” She turned to the young major. “I am very much obliged, I am sure.”

“And you are welcome,” said Jack, blushing like a girl.

“Whose dog is it?” asked Andy.

“It belongs to Mr. Haverick, the horse-dealer. I suppose it was quite valuable.”

“Let me see – are you not Mrs. Bennington?”

“I am. My husband sold you some wood last winter.”

“Yes, I remember. Well, Mrs. Bennington, I do not know what to do with the dog excepting to have my man bury him.”

“I think we had better let Mr. Haverick see him first. He thought a good deal of the animal. I’ll have my husband tell him.”

“Very well, we’ll leave him where he is then – at least for the present.”