The Putnam Hall Cadets: or, Good Times in School and Out

CHAPTER XXV
HOW THE FIGHT ENDED

It must be admitted that Jack was a little in doubt as to the outcome of the fight before him. Dan Baxter was large, and was something of a boxer and an athlete. In fact, he could fight better than he could learn his lessons.

“I’ve got to go at him from the start, otherwise he may wear me out,” the young major told himself.

With clenched fists the two cadets circled around, each watching for a chance to deliver a blow. Those watching the contest formed a large circle, and numerous were the words of advice given.

“Land him a good one, Jack!”

“Paste him hard, Dan!”

Suddenly Baxter’s fist shot out and landed on Jack’s breast, sending the young major back a step or two. Then Jack sent in a blow on the bully’s arm. Next came several hits which were of small consequence.

“Give it to him good, Jack,” came from Andy. “Don’t fool.”

“How do you like that?” cried the bully, and hit Jack a stinging blow in the cheek.

It was just what was needed to wake the young major up. All of his real fighting blood leaped to the surface, and an instant later he sent out his fist on the bully’s nose. Then, before Baxter could recover, he hit out once more, and struck Baxter on the chin, lifting him from his feet and sending him on his back in the snow.

“Hurrah! Jack has knocked Baxter down!”

“Time!” called out Paxton, and rushed to his crony’s assistance. He caught the bully by the arm and dragged him to his feet.

“Are you much hurt?” he demanded.

“What did – did he hi-hit me with?” stammered the fallen one.

“With his fist,” answered Dale. “I reckon it was hard enough, wasn’t it?”

“He struck me with something else – a stone,” cried the bully.

“No, I didn’t,” ejaculated Jack. He held up his open hands. “I haven’t a thing but my fingers and thumbs.”

Again the pair faced each other. Baxter was in a rage, and after a few light passes he rushed in and clinched. Around and around the ring went the two cadets, each trying to get the better of the other.

“Break away!” was the cry. “Break away!” But neither Jack nor Baxter paid attention. Baxter had Jack bent far over and was hitting him on the neck.

“That’s not fair!” cried Andy, but scarcely had he spoken when Jack ducked still lower, and like a flash Baxter was raised in the air and thrown over the young major’s back. He came down with a thud, and before he could get up Jack was on top of him.

“Do you give in, Baxter?” he demanded.

“I – er – I – ”

“Get off of him!” cried Paxton. “That’s no fair way to fight. Let him up.”

“I’ll let him up,” came from Jack, and he leaped up and away. Baxter sat up, stared around, and arose slowly to his feet.

“Come on!” cried the young major. “Unless you have had enough.”

“Oh, I’m all right,” was the reply. “I’ll fix you yet; see if I don’t.”

Once more the pair went at it, hammer and tongs. Blows flew thick and fast, but to the majority of the boys it was easily to be seen that Jack was getting the better of it. Baxter was almost winded, and stood up with difficulty. He felt that another blow or two would make him fall. Watching his chance, he tipped a wink to Paxton.

“Cheese it! Here comes one of the teachers!” called out Paxton. “Run for it unless you want to be caught.”

The cry was taken up on all sides, even though nobody saw the teacher. At once Dan Baxter stepped back and reached for his collar and coat.

“I’ll fix you another time, Jack Ruddy,” he muttered, and hurried away before the young major could reply.

Slipping on his own coat and adjusting his collar, Jack gazed around and then, with his chums, walked toward the gymnasium.

“That was a fake, I believe,” said he. “I don’t see anybody.”

“Paxton gave the alarm,” came from Dale.

“Baxter winked at him – I saw him do it,” said Stuffer. “I guess he wanted to stop. He was pretty dizzy. Another blow or two would have finished him.”

“Never mind, I’ll finish him some other time,” answered Jack. “He won’t behave himself until he is well whipped.”

Baxter did not stop until he reached his dormitory. He sank into a chair, and, later on, bathed his swollen face and eyes.

“He’s a pretty hard fighter,” said Paxton.

“Pooh! I am not afraid of him, Nick,” growled the bully. “The truth is I – I shouldn’t have tried to fight to-day,” he went on, lamely. “I’m not feeling well. My – er – my stomach is all out of order.”

“I knew there must be something the matter,” said Paxton, sympathetically. “You didn’t hit out like I expected.”

“Wait till I’m myself; I’ll lay him out cold,” said the bully, boastingly.

But for the present he was content to keep out of Jack’s sight, and in public he said little about the contest. Behind it all he was frightened.

“I’ve got to be careful how I go at him,” he told himself. “He knows how to handle his fists better than I thought.”

After the fight matters remained quiet for some time to come. A brisk wind cleared some of the snow from the lake, and the cadets spent a large portion of their off time in skating. Some of the cadets built themselves ice-boats, and had not a little fun in sailing up and down the lake shore. One ice-boat was the property of Dale and Harry Blossom, and on an afternoon Coulter, Paxton, and Mumps made off with the craft, without asking permission to use it.

“That is what I call nerve!” Dale declared, when he heard the news. “Just wait till they get back! I’ll give them a piece of my mind!”

“And so will I!” added Harry. “Our friends can use the ice-boat if they wish, but not such fellows as Paxton, Coulter, and Mumps.”

The cadets who had gone off with the ice-boat did not know much about running such a craft, although Mumps knew all about ordinary sailing boats, having come from the Hudson River, as previously stated. The wind carried the trio out of sight of the Hall, and they sat down to enjoy themselves.

“This is all right!” said Coulter, enthusiastically. “Nick, we ought to build a boat of our own.”

“Too much labor,” grumbled Paxton. “What’s the use, when you can get someone else’s craft for nothing?” And he laughed.

“They’ll be angry when they hear how we went off,” came from Mumps.

“Perhaps, but I don’t think they’ll do anything.”

Sailing with the wind was easy enough, and soon several miles were covered.

“We had better turn around,” said the sneak of the school. “Remember, it won’t be near so easy tacking back.”

“Oh, don’t turn back yet,” said Paxton. “It’s fine to spin along. Let her go!” And on they went for another mile.

“Hi! hi!” shouted Coulter, suddenly. “Look ahead! What’s that?”

“It’s open water!” gasped Mumps. “Stop her! Lower the sail! We’ll be drowned!”

As speedily as possible they lowered the sail of the ice-boat. But the momentum carried them closer and closer to the water, and at last they had to jump out on the ice to try to save themselves. All rolled over and over.

“Help! I’ll drown!” shrieked Mumps, when he found himself in the water. He floundered around, and so did his companions. Then Paxton stood up.

“Stand up – it’s not deep,” he called out, and they stood up and found the water only up to their waists. The ice-boat lay near, floating around on its side. Not far off was the bank of the lake.

“Birr! how cold!” came from Coulter.

“Don’t sa – say a wo – word!” chattered Mumps. “I – I – can – can’t get my br – br – breath!”

“Haul the ice-boat in,” came from Paxton, and in disgust they brought the craft to shore. Here they huddled close together, shivering from head to feet.

“I – I wi – wish we ha – had – hadn’t ta – ta – ta – taken the con – confounded bo – boat!” chattered Mumps. “Oh, this is dreadful! I’ll be frozen stiff in another minute!”

“How are we to get back?” questioned Coulter. “If we sail back we’ll be frozen to death before we re – reach th – the Hall.”

They stared at each other in dismay. They were in a pickle truly, and did not know how to help themselves.

CHAPTER XXVI
FRIENDS IN NEED

While the boys were staring around helplessly, and shaking from head to feet from the cold, Coulter espied another ice-boat coming along the lake shore.

“Let us stop those chaps!” he called. “Come on! Run!”

The others needed no second bidding. Anything was better than standing still, and they set off at a dog-trot, and soon came up to the ice-boat. It was a craft belonging to Bart Conners and some of his intimates.

“Stop! Stop!” yelled Coulter, Paxton, and Mumps. “Stop! There is open water ahead!”

These cries were heard, and without hesitation Bart Conners turned his craft into shore, allowing it to slide deep into a snowdrift.

“Oh, pshaw! Why didn’t we think to run our boat ashore?” muttered Coulter. Such a simple move had never entered the heads of the ill-fated trio.

“What’s the matter with you fellows?” demanded Bart Conners. “Why, you look frozen to death!”

“W – we are – al – almost!” gasped Paxton. “Ca – can’t you help us?”

“Did your boat go into the water?”

“Yes.”

“Here’s a blanket, we’ve been using it for a seat,” sang out a cadet in Conners’ crowd. “Wrap yourself in that.”

“Here’s my overcoat, Mumps,” said another. “I’ve got my sweater on and don’t need it.”

“Coulter, you can take my overcoat,” came from Bart Conners.

The three wet cadets were willing enough to don the things handed out to them. But even with these dry coverings all were intensely chilled.

“Jump on and we’ll take you back to the Hall as fast as we can,” said Conners. “It’s dreadful to take a plunge in the lake in such weather as this.”

“Who lent you the ice-boat?” asked a cadet in the crowd.

“Oh – we – er – we only thought we’d have a bit of fun,” stammered Mumps.

“Phew! if you took that boat without permission, I guess you got paid for it,” was Bart’s comment.

The ice-boat was turned back, and as speedily as it could be done, they brought the craft up to the Putnam Hall landing. Here they met Dale and Harry.

“What do you fellows mean by running off with our ice-boat?” demanded Dale.

“It was a mean piece of business,” put in Harry. “You ought to be pounded good for it!”

“Don’t scold them now,” said Bart. “They’ve been punished enough. They got a ducking in the ice-cold water.”

“Oh!”

“The ice-boat ran into the open water, and they might have been drowned, only the water wasn’t deep enough,” put in another cadet.

“Where is the ice-boat now?” questioned Dale.

“In the open water near shore. I guess you can pull her in by throwing a line over her,” answered Bart.

Like so many half-drowned rats, Paxton, Coulter, and Mumps sneaked into the Hall, and up to their rooms. The news soon circulated that they had fallen into the lake, and Captain Putnam ordered them to bed, and had Mrs. Green prepare some hot tea for them. In the meantime Dale and Harry took a ride on Bart’s ice-boat, and soon succeeded in hauling the overturned craft to the firm ice once more. The ice-boat was not damaged, and a little while later Dale and Harry were sailing her as before.

“I hope that teaches those fellows a lesson to leave our things alone,” said Dale, and it did teach Coulter, Paxton, and Mumps a lesson, at least as far as the ice-boat was concerned.

Following the adventure just narrated, came a series of heavy snow-storms, which are remembered even to this day at Putnam Hall. They lasted over the holidays, and many boys who had planned to visit their homes at Christmas had to forego that pleasure. One party that left got stalled on the cars just outside of Ithaca, and remained in the snowdrifts for twenty-four hours. Another party got as far as Cedarville, and after remaining there one whole day returned to the Hall.

That the cadets might not feel too blue because they were snowed in, Captain Putnam allowed them to do pretty much as they pleased during Christmas week. A fine turkey dinner was served on Christmas and on New Year’s day, and the boys had a great deal of sport in the Hall and in the gymnasium. Captain Putnam allowed them to have some private theatricals, and Jack, Pepper, Andy, Dale, and several others gave a two-act drama entitled “The Boy from the Country.” Andy was the country boy who comes to the city to seek his fortune, and Dale played the part of an old lady who knows the boy’s rich uncle. The drama was full of fun, and was well received. Before the drama came a banjo solo by one of the cadets, and then a duet by two of the cadets who could sing remarkably well.

While the singing was going on, Pepper noticed Dan Baxter sneaking behind the stage, and pointed him out to Dave Kearney.

“I think he is up to mischief,” he said. “I’ve got to go on in the next dialogue. Won’t you watch him?”

“Sure I will,” answered Dave, and hurried after Baxter. He was in time to see the bully throw something on the floor, just at the places where the actors and singers made their entrances and exits.

“Grease!” murmured Dave Kearney, after getting down and feeling of the stuff with his fingers. “How mean! The boys would look fine, sprawling all over the stage.”

As soon as he had greased the floor Dan Baxter slipped back to his seat in the hall.

“Be careful,” said Dave, running around to those who were waiting to perform.

“Careful of what?” demanded several.

“Of grease on the floor. If you’re not, you’ll go sliding from one side of the stage to the other.”

“How did the grease get there?” asked Jack.

“Dan Baxter put it there – I saw him do it.”

“Say, he ought to be mobbed!” cried Andy.

“What a dirty trick!” came from another student. “We ought to pay him back for that.”

“Let us pay him back to-night,” suggested Stuffer.

So it was agreed, and it was also settled that nobody should say a word about the grease until the proper time came. The performance went on, each performer taking good care not to get too much grease on his soles, and stepping out with caution. At last the show was over, and the final curtain went down amid great applause and cheering.

“That was as good as a professional show,” declared Joe Nelson.

“Sure an’ it was betther nor some professional shows,” put in Hogan. “Wanct I wint to a show in the country – a travelin’ troupe ’twas – an’ they couldn’t act fer a sour apple. The b’ys got ancient eggs, an’ the stage was a soight to see afther thim players got out av town!”

The performance had lasted until half-past ten, and as soon as it was over the majority of the cadets retired to their dormitories. With the crowd went Dan Baxter, much disgusted that his joke had not turned out as he had anticipated.

“I suppose one of them found out about the grease, and he told the rest,” was the way he reasoned. “Hang the luck anyway! I don’t seem to be able to get square with that crowd, no matter what I do!”

Baxter was tired, and it was not long before he was in the land of dreams. How long he slept he knew not, but of a sudden he awoke, to find a handkerchief tied across his mouth. Then his arms were tied to his sides, his feet were fastened, and he was raised up out of bed by six persons and carried from the dormitory.

He was not greatly frightened, because he thought some of the others in the dormitory were playing a joke on him. He tried to see the faces of the cadets, but could not, for each of the party had a big paper bag thrust over his head, with two holes in front, for seeing purposes.

Baxter was carried downstairs to the lower floor of the Hall. Then the party made its way to a side door.

“Throw a blanket over him, fellows,” said one person, and then the bully was almost smothered. The next instant he found himself out in the snow and being carried toward the gymnasium. The building was soon reached and the door opened. Then the whole party went inside, and a lantern was lit.

“Now set the prisoner up, and we will decide his fate,” said one of the masked cadets, and then the bully was placed on an empty box. His heart sank within him, for he felt that he was not among friends, but among those who had good cause to be his enemies.

CHAPTER XXVII
THE PUNISHMENT OF A BULLY

“Look here, what do you intend to do with me?” asked Dan Baxter, as soon as he could speak.

“Punish you!” came from all of the masked boys.

“What for?”

“For many things.”

“I don’t know what I have done.”

“You have tried to bully us,” said one.

“You greased the stage at our entertainment,” answered another.

“You are always quarreling with us,” put in a third.

“You want to run things to suit yourself,” came from a fourth.

“You get Mumps to play the sneak,” added a fifth.

“I – I – don’t!” cried the bully, and began to turn pale. “I want you to let me go. It’s cold here!”

“You’ll feel warm enough before we get through with you,” answered one of the masked cadets, meaningly.

“If you – you hurt me, I’ll – I’ll – ”

“Don’t threaten us, Baxter. If you do, we’ll treat you so much worse.”

“It’s a mean shame!”

“Stay where you are,” said the leader of the masked cadets – it was Jack. “If you move, it will be at the peril of your life!”

After that the crowd withdrew to a corner, leaving Baxter alone. The bully wanted to escape, but he was afraid to try it. The masked cadets held a consultation lasting several minutes.

“Just the thing!” was the cry. “Just the thing!”

“Now what do they intend to do?” asked the bully of himself. “Something awful, I’m sure!”

“Baxter, we have decided on your fate,” said one of the masked boys. It was Pepper, but he disguised his voice well.

“What are you going to do?”

“We are going to brand you first and then march you out into the country, so that you can’t find your way back to Putnam Hall.”

“Brand me! March me away! Don’t you dare to do it!”

“Blindfold him first, fellows!” came from Andy, and the bully’s eyes were quickly bound tight with a handkerchief.

“Now heat up that iron,” came loudly from one of the masked cadets. “I think that a B on his forehead will look beautiful.”

“What are you going to – to – put a B on me for?” asked Baxter, with a shiver.

“B stands for Bully, and that is what you are, Dan Baxter. Hurry up with that iron, boys.”

“No! No!”

“The iron is getting hot!” came from Dale. He had stepped to one of the windows and brought in a sharp-pointed icicle.

“Nos. 3, 4, 6, and 7 will hold him, while Nos. 1 and 2 perform the operation. No. 5 can remain on guard.”

“If you brand me, I’ll – I’ll – ” began the bully.

“Silence! If you dare to cry out, we’ll brand you on the cheeks as well as the forehead.”

“I won’t stand it!” roared the bully and started to get from the gymnasium, bound as he was. But they tripped him up with ease, and as he went headlong, one cadet sat on his breast and another on his legs, rendering him helpless.

“Now then, the iron!” called out Stuffer. “Brand him well.”

The icicle was brought forward, and at the same time one of the boys cut a little lock of hair from his head and lit a match. Then the icicle was run over Baxter’s forehead in the form of the letter B. At the same time the lock of hair was lit and the smell of the burning hair was allowed to reach the bully’s nose.

“Oh! Oh!” yelled Baxter, squirming greatly. “Let up! Don’t burn me! Oh, I’ll be marked for life! Oh, this is outrageous! Don’t, I beg of you! Please let me go! I’ll – I’ll do anything if you’ll only let up on me!”

“Let up now,” whispered Jack. “He may get a fit! He is almost scared out of his life!”

“Now then, the blanket and the old boots,” came from Andy, and the victim of the hazing was provided with a big pair of old rubber boots and a heavy horse blanket.

“What’s this for?” asked the bully.

“For your long tramp into the country,” was the answer.

“I don’t want to go out into the country this cold night! Let me go, please do!”

“It’s too late to beg, Baxter. You have been a bad boy, and you must take your medicine.”

“I’ll have the law on you!”

In a minute more the gymnasium door was opened and the victim was marched outside. He was well blindfolded, so that he could not see where he was going. The masked cadets led him into the woods, around the boathouse, and then made half a dozen turns, so that Baxter was completely bewildered.

“Here’s the old shanty,” said Jack, in a loud voice, when they came to a halt. “Put him into the garret and leave him.” And then Baxter was marched into the carriage house of Putnam Hall and made to mount the ladder to the loft. Here he was tied to a post, but in such a loose fashion that he could get free with ease.

“Now, Baxter, listen,” said Jack, still in an assumed voice. “You are probably four miles from Putnam Hall. Don’t try to get away, or you may get into more trouble. To-morrow night we’ll come back and finish our job.”

“I – I can’t stay here so long. It’s cold and I – I ain’t got anything to eat.”

“Well, make the best of it,” was the cry, and then the masked cadets scampered off, and a few minutes later were safe in their dormitories in the Hall.

With a sinking heart Dan Baxter listened to them depart, and then gave a deep groan.

“I – I can’t stand this!” he muttered to himself. “It’s dreadful! And to think they branded me, too. What will Paxton and the others say!”

The loft was not a particularly cold place, for the windows were tightly closed. Waiting to make sure that the crowd had gone, he pulled himself free from his bonds.

When he placed his hand to his forehead he could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses. He could feel nothing of the branding – his forehead was not sore – it did not hurt! What could it mean?

“They must have tricked me!” he told himself. “What a fool I was to raise such a howl! How they’ll laugh at me for it! But it did feel just as if I was being burnt!”

All was pitch-dark around him, for the masked cadets had taken the lantern with them. He stepped forward and ran into a low beam, giving his forehead a severe bump.

“Ouch! Nothing fake about that!” he muttered, dancing around. “I’ll have to be careful, or I’ll break my neck. Wonder how far I am from the Hall and what sort of a place this can be?” He felt around and grasped some old spider webs. “Some half tumbled down shanty, I suppose. Perhaps I’d better make myself at home until morning,” and he crouched down and hid himself in the old horse blanket. He remained awake half the night, finally falling off into a troubled doze.

When Baxter awoke it was early morning and still dark. He felt cold from head to feet and gave a shiver.

“I’d give five dollars to be back at the Hall,” he muttered to himself. “Wonder if I can walk the distance before it gets too light? If any person sees me on the road with the rubber boots and this horse blanket they’ll take me for a lunatic.” He gave a deep sigh. “I suppose I must be two miles away, at least. They said four, but maybe they piled it on.”

Several times the bully thought of starting out but gave it up, thinking he might lose his way; but when it became lighter he took a look around the loft and presently descended the ladder to the ground floor of the carriage house.

“Hi, you tramp! Wot be you a-doin’ up there, tell me that?” cried a voice from the other end of the building.

“I’m no tramp, sir,” answered Baxter. “I am – Peleg Snuggers!”

“If it ain’t Master Baxter!” ejaculated the general utility man, who had just started in on his morning work. “Well, I never! How did you git here?”

“What place is this, Peleg?”

“Wot place? Why, the carriage house, o’ course.”

“What!” yelled Dan Baxter; and at that instant he was by far the maddest boy the school ever contained.

“Sure. Wot did you think it was, eh?”

“Never mind. Is the back door to the Hall open?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m going in,” answered the bully, and ran off without another word.