Kitobni o'qish: «The Putnam Hall Champions»

INTRODUCTION

My Dear Boys:

This tale is complete in itself, but forms volume three in a line issued under the general title of “Putnam Hall Series.”

This series was started at the request of many boys and girls who had read some volumes of the “Rover Boys’ Series,” and who wanted to know what had taken place at Putnam Hall previous to the arrival there of the three Rover brothers. When the Rovers came on the scene Putnam Hall had been flourishing for some time and was filled with bright, go-ahead cadets, who had been mixed up in innumerable scrapes, and who had gone through quite a few adventures. My young friends wanted to hear all about these wideawake lads, and for their benefit I started this series.

In the first volume, called “The Putnam Hall Cadets,” I told just how the school came to be founded, and related many of the adventures of Jack Ruddy, Pepper Ditmore, and their chums. In the second volume, entitled “The Putnam Hall Rivals,” the doings of these cadets were again followed, and I also told the particulars of a queer balloon ride and of a remarkable discovery in the woods.

In the present story I have endeavored to show something of what the Putnam Hall boys could do when it came to contests on the lake, in the gymnasium, and elsewhere. A large portion of the cadets’ “off time” was devoted to sports, and the rivalry, both in the academy and against other schools, was of the keenest. Mixed in with the rivalry was a generous share of fun, and what some of this hilarity led to I leave the pages which follow to tell.

Once again I thank my young friends for the interest they have shown in my stories. I trust the reading of this volume will please you all.

Affectionately and sincerely yours,

Arthur M. Winfield.

CHAPTER I
A RACE ON THE LAKE

“Talk about a life on the ocean wave, Pep; isn’t this good enough for anybody?”

“It certainly is, Jack,” answered Pepper Ditmore. “And I think the Alice is going to prove a dandy.”

“The Alice a dandy?” came from a third youth aboard the sloop. “How can you make that out? Girls aren’t dandies.”

“But this girl is a boat,” put in a fourth youth. “Say, has anybody got an apple he doesn’t want?” he went on, looking from one to another of his companions.

“What, Stuffer, aren’t you filled up yet?” demanded Jack Ruddy, who had hold of the tiller of the craft that was speeding up the lake. “To my certain knowledge you have eaten ten apples already.”

“Ten?” snorted Paul Singleton, who was often called Stuffer because of his love of eating. “Not a bit of it! I’ve only had four – and two were very small.”

“Here’s another – my last,” cried Pepper, and threw the apple to his chum.

“By the way, Jack, I want to ask a question,” said Dale Blackmore. “Why did you call the new sloop the Alice?”

“Name of his best girl,” answered Pepper, promptly. “Why do you ask foolish questions?”

“I haven’t any best girl and you know it,” retorted Jack Ruddy. “I named the sloop after my cousin, Alice Smith. Her father, my uncle, gave me the boat. He – ”

“Hullo, here comes another sloop!” cried Paul Singleton, looking across the lake. “Wonder what boat that is?”

“I see a big P on the mainsail,” answered Dale Blackmore. “Must belong to some of the Pornell Academy fellows.”

“I know that boat – heard about her when I was in town yesterday,” said Pepper Ditmore. “She belongs to a fellow of Pornell named Fred Century.”

“Gracious, Imp, is he a hundred years old?” queried Dale, with a grimace.

“Hardly. He’s only a little older than I am. The sloop is named the Ajax, and Century claims she is the swiftest thing that was ever launched here.”

“She certainly looks as if she could make time,” was Dale Blackmore’s critical comment, as he gazed at the approaching craft, with her snowy spread of sails. “I don’t think she is quite as wide as the Alice.”

“She is every bit as long,” came from Paul Singleton. “And her sails are every bit as big.”

“Sloop ahoy!” came a hail from the approaching craft.

“Ahoy, the Ajax!” answered Jack Ruddy.

“Is that the new boat from Putnam Hall?”

“Yes.”

“We thought it might be,” went on Fred Century, as he came closer. “This is the new boat from Pornell Academy.”

“Yes, we know that,” answered Jack. “Fine-looking sloop, too,” he added.

“Do you want to race?” asked another youth aboard the Ajax.

“Well, we didn’t come out to race,” answered the young owner of the Alice. “We just came out for a quiet sail. We’ve got to be back to the Hall by six o’clock.”

“Oh, they are afraid to race you, Fred,” said another boy aboard the Ajax. “They know you can beat them out of their boots.”

“Let us race them, Jack,” whispered Pepper.

“No use of racing if the Alice isn’t in proper condition,” interrupted Dale.

“Oh, she’s all right – but I like to go over everything before a race,” said Jack, a bit doubtfully. “Some of the blocks work rather stiffly, and I haven’t quite got the swing of this tiller yet.”

“Want to race or not?” cried a third boy aboard the Ajax.

“Of course, if you are afraid of being beaten – ” began Fred Century.

“Did you come out just for the purpose of racing?” demanded Jack.

“Why, hardly,” said the owner of the Ajax. “We just saw you, and thought you’d like a little brush, that’s all.”

“How far do you want to race?”

“As far as you please.”

“Very well, what do you say to Cat Point and from there to Borden’s Cove? The first sloop to reach the white rock at the cove is to be the winner.”

“Done!” answered Fred Century, promptly.

“We’ll beat you by half a mile!” sang out one of the boys aboard the Pornell boat, a lad named Will Carey.

“Better do your blowing after the race is over,” answered Pepper.

“Oh, we’ll beat you all right enough,” said the owner of the Pornell boat. “This sloop of mine is going to be the queen of this lake, and don’t you forget it.”

A few words more were spoken – as to how the boats should round Cat Point – and then the race was started. There was a favorable breeze, and each craft let out its mainsail to the fullest and likewise the topsail and the jib.

“We are carrying four passengers while they are only carrying three,” said Dale, when the race was on in earnest. “We should have made them take some extra ballast aboard.”

The course mapped out was about two miles in one direction and two miles in another. At the start of the race the Alice had a little the better of it, but before half a mile had been covered the Ajax came crawling up and then passed the Putnam Hall boat.

“Here is where we leave you behind!” sang out Fred Century.

“We’ll show you a clean pair of heels over the whole course,” added Will Carey.

“As soon as you are ready to give up the race, blow your fog-horn,” said Bat Sedley, the third member of the party aboard the Ajax.

“You’ll hear no fog-horn to-day,” answered Paul.

“Good-bye!” shouted Fred Century, and then his sloop took an extra spurt and went ahead a distance of a hundred yards or more.

“Oh, Jack, we’ve got to beat them!” murmured Pepper. “If we don’t – ”

“They’ll never get done crowing,” finished Paul.

“We’ll do our best,” answered the youthful owner of the Alice. “This race has only started.” And then he moved the tiller a trifle, to bring his boat on a more direct course for Cat Point.

To those who have read the previous volumes in this “Putnam Hall Series” the boys aboard the Alice need no special introduction. For the benefit of those who now meet them for the first time I would state that they were all pupils at Putnam Hall military academy, a fine institution of learning, located on the shore of Cayuga Lake, in New York State. Of the lads Jack Ruddy was a little the oldest. He was a well-built and handsome boy, and had been chosen as major of the school battalion.

Jack’s bosom companion was Pepper Ditmore, often called Imp, because he loved to play pranks. Pepper was such a wideawake, jolly youth you could not help but love him, and he had a host of friends.

Putnam Hall had been built by Captain Victor Putnam, a retired officer of the United States Army, who had seen strenuous service for Uncle Sam in the far West. The captain had had considerable money left to him, and with this he had purchased ten acres of land on the shore of the lake and erected his school, a handsome structure of brick and stone, containing many class-rooms, a large number of dormitories, and likewise a library, mess-room, or dining hall, an office, and other necessary apartments. There was a beautiful campus in front of the building and a parade ground to one side. Towards the rear were a gymnasium and several barns, and also a boathouse, fronting the lake. Beyond, around a curve of the shore, were fields cultivated for the benefit of the Hall, and further away were several patches of woods.

As was but natural in the case of an old army officer, Captain Putnam had organized his school upon military lines, and his students made up a battalion of two companies, as related in details in the first volume of this series, called “The Putnam Hall Cadets.” The students had voted for their own officers, and after a contest that was more or less spirited, Jack Ruddy was elected major of the battalion, and a youth named Henry Lee became captain of Company A, and Bart Conners captain of Company B. Some of the boys wanted Pepper to try for an officer’s position, but he declined, stating he would just as lief remain “a high private in the rear rank.”

At the school there was a big youth named Dan Baxter, who was a good deal of a bully. He had wanted to be an officer, and it made him very sore to see himself defeated. Together with a crony named Nick Paxton and a boy called Mumps he plotted to break up a picnic of Jack and his friends. This plot proved a boomerang, and after that Baxter and his cohorts did all they could to get Jack and his chums into trouble.

The first assistant teacher at the Hall was Josiah Crabtree, a man of good education, but one who was decidedly sour in his make-up and who never knew how to take fun. With him the cadets were continually in “hot water,” and more than once the boys wished Crabtree would leave Putnam Hall never to return.

The second assistant teacher was George Strong, and he was as much beloved as the first assistant was despised. George Strong had not forgotten the time when he was a boy himself, and he often came out on the lake or the athletic field, or in the gymnasium, to take part in their sports and pastimes. Pepper voted him “the prince of good teachers,” and Jack and the others endorsed this sentiment.

During the first session of Putnam Hall, George Strong had mysteriously disappeared. Two strange men had been seen around the school, and it was learned that the strangers had something to do with the missing instructor. A hunt was instituted by Captain Putnam, and in this he was joined by Jack, Pepper, Dale, and an acrobatic pupil named Andy Snow. George Strong was found to be a prisoner in a hut in the woods, and it was learned that his captors were the two strange men. These men were related distantly to the teacher and both were insane – their minds having been affected by the loss of their fortunes.

After the insane men were cared for George Strong told the cadets about a pot of gold which his ancestors had buried during the Revolutionary War. One day some of the cadets took a balloon ride, as related in detail in the second volume of this series, entitled “The Putnam Hall Rivals,” and this ride brought them to a strange part of the woods near the lake. Here they came on some landmarks which had been mentioned to them, and to their joy unearthed the pot of gold coins. For this find the cadets were rewarded by George Strong, and the teacher became a closer friend to the boys than ever.

Dan Baxter had been called away from Putnam Hall by his father. He had had a fierce fight with Pepper and gotten the worst of it, and he was, consequently, glad enough to disappear for the time being. But he left behind him many of his cronies, and three of these, Reff Ritter, Gus Coulter, and Nick Paxton, vowed they would “square accounts” with the Imp and also with his chums.

“I’ve got a plan to make Pep Ditmore eat humble pie,” said Reff Ritter, one day. And then he related some of the details to Coulter and Paxton.

“Just the thing!” cried Coulter. “But don’t leave out Jack Ruddy. I’d rather get square with Ruddy than anybody. He has been down on me ever since I came to the Hall. I hate him like poison.” And Gus Coulter’s face took on a dark look.

“Yes, we’ll include Ruddy,” answered Reff Ritter. “I hate him, too. I’d give most anything if we could drive ’em both from the school.”

“Maybe we can – if we watch our chances,” answered Gus Coulter.

CHAPTER II
WHAT THE WIND DID

Pornell Academy was a rival institution of learning, located several miles from Putnam Hall. It was presided over by Doctor Pornell, who had not fancied Captain Putnam’s coming to that locality. The students of Pornell were for the most part sons of wealthy parents, and a large number of them thought themselves superior to the Putnam Hall cadets.

On one occasion the lads of the two institutions had had quite a lively row, but this had been patched up, and several contests on the lake and on the athletic field had come off. Sometimes the Putnam Hall cadets were defeated, but more times they were victorious, which pleased them not a little.

Fred Century had come to Pornell Academy several months before this story opens. He was from Portland, Maine, and belonged to a boat club that usually sailed its craft on Casco Bay. Immediately on his arrival at Cayuga Lake he took up boating and then had his father purchase for him the Ajax, certainly a craft of which any young man might well be proud. Then he heard that Jack had a new boat, the Alice, and he watched for his opportunity to race. That opportunity had now presented itself; and the race was on.

It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining brightly and the breeze strong enough to make the sails of the sloops fill well. The Putnam Hall cadets had left the school with no idea of a contest of any sort, but now that the race was in progress they were keenly interested.

“I’ve heard about this Fred Century,” remarked Dale, as the Alice sped on her course. “They tell me his father is next door to being a millionaire.”

“One thing is certain – he has a good opinion of his boat,” added Pepper.

“Well, I’ve got a good opinion of my boat, too,” answered the young major. “I want her to win.”

“Oh, she must win!” cried Stuffer. “Why, don’t you know that those Pornell fellows are just aching for a chance to crow over us?”

The race had now been noted by a number of people out in pleasure boats. Many knew that the two sloops were new boats and they were curious to learn which might prove to be the better. Some waved their hands and handkerchiefs, and others shouted words of encouragement to one group of lads or the other.

“It looks to me as if the Pornell boat was going to win,” said one gentleman, who was out in his pleasure yacht.

“Oh, papa, how can you say that?” cried his daughter, who was an admirer of the Putnam Hall cadets.

“Because their boat is ahead,” was the answer.

It was not long before Cat Point was reached. The Ajax rounded the rocks in fine style, for Fred Century was really a skillful skipper and knew how to handle his craft to perfection.

“Good-bye to you!” he called out, as his craft stood for a moment close to the Alice.

“We’ll tell everybody you’re coming sooner or later,” added Bat Sedley. “Don’t be too long – folks may get tired of waiting.”

“I rather think they’ll get tired of your blowing,” retorted Paul.

“Don’t get uppish!” cried the Pornell Academy boy, angrily, and then the two sloops passed out of speaking distance of each other.

“I wish the wind would freshen,” said Jack, with something like a sigh.

“What good will that do?” demanded Dale.

“If it got too fresh it would make them take in some sail. The Alice is broader than the Ajax, consequently we can risk a little more than they can.”

“Well, I think the breeze is freshening,” said Pepper. “Just look down the lake.”

They did as directed and saw that he was right, for the water was beginning to show numerous whitecaps and ripples. The Alice rounded Cat Point, the mainsail was thrown over, and they started for Borden’s Cove with the rival sloop more than a quarter of a mile in the lead.

“I don’t believe we can catch up to that boat even if the wind does freshen,” remarked Dale, soberly. “She’s got too much of a lead.”

“Here comes the breeze!” shouted Pepper, and he was right, the wind had freshened as if by magic, and at once the sloop bounded forward at an increased speed, cutting the water like a thing of life and sending a shower of spray over all those on board.

“Hi! I didn’t come out for a shower-bath!” yelled Pepper.

“Got to stand for it, though,” answered Jack, with a grin. “All for the glory of the cause, you know.”

The breeze kept increasing, and this caused the Alice to heel well over on her side. This made Paul a little bit anxious.

“Hadn’t we better take in some sail?” he ventured. “We don’t want to be dumped into the lake.”

“Not yet,” answered Jack. “It will have to blow harder than this to send the Alice over. There is a whole lot of lead in her keel.”

With the increase in the wind the Alice kept gaining slowly but surely on the Ajax, and this gladdened the heart of the youthful owner. He looked ahead and saw that Fred Century was gazing back anxiously on the rival that was coming nearer.

“I guess he is wondering when we’ll take in some sail,” said Jack. “Well, he can keep on wondering.”

“He is taking in his topsail!” cried Pepper, a moment later, and the announcement proved correct. In the meantime the wind came stronger than ever, until it fairly whistled through the ropes aboard the Alice. Under ordinary circumstances Jack would have lowered not only his topsail but also his mainsail – or at least taken a reef in the latter – but now he was determined to win the race if taking a small risk would do it. By this time the other boats on the lake were making for various harbors.

But if Jack was willing to take a risk, so was Fred Century, and against the wishes of his two companions the lad from Pornell Academy kept all his sails flying. As a consequence the Ajax suddenly careened and took aboard enough water to literally wash the deck and flood the standing-room.

“Hi, look out, or we’ll all be drowned!” yelled Will Carey. He was not much of a sailor or a swimmer.

“Oh, you mustn’t mind a dip like that,” said Fred Century, reassuringly, yet even as he spoke he looked anxiously at the sky and at the wind-clouds scurrying past. He knew that if the wind increased much more he would have to take in his topsail and his mainsail and perhaps his jib.

“That other sloop is coming up fast,” announced Bat Sedley, not a great while later. And he spoke the truth, the Alice was approaching by what looked to be leaps and bounds, making the best possible use of the stiffening breeze as Jack hung to the tiller and eased her off, this way or that. The young major had issued orders to his chums, and they stood ready to lower both mainsail and topsail at the word of command.

The Alice was still a good half-mile from Borden’s Cove when her bow overlapped the stern of the Ajax. At this Pepper set up a yell of pleasure and all with him joined in. They waved their hands to those on the other craft, but received no answer. Then they forged ahead, the ever-increasing wind driving them along faster and faster.

“Lower the topsail as soon as we are far enough ahead,” ordered Jack. “No use of running the risk of breaking our mast now.”

A strange whistling of the wind followed, and down came the topsail in a jiffy. Then several reefs were taken in the mainsail. The bosom of the lake was now a mass of whitecaps, while the sun went under a heavy cloud.

“It’s a wind squall, and a corker!” cried Jack.

“Why don’t they take in some sail on the Ajax?” asked Dale, as he clung to a guard rail, to keep from being swept overboard.

“They are taking in the topsail,” announced Jack. “But that isn’t enough. If they don’t – ”

The rest of his words was lost in the piping of the gale that came extra strong just then. The sloop seemed to be fairly lifted from the lake, then she sank into a hollow and the water dashed over her stern. Then she bobbed up like a cork and shot forward as before. Pepper, holding tight with might and main, glanced back.

“The Ajax has gone over!” he screamed, in alarm.

Only Jack understood his words, but the others saw the look in his face and saw him nod to a spot behind them on the bosom of the angry lake. True enough, carrying the mainsail had proved too much for the Pornell craft, and she was now drifting along on her side, her mast half-submerged in the lashing and foaming waves.

The Putnam Hall cadets were greatly alarmed, and with good reason. They had no desire to see any of their rivals drowned, and they felt it was more than likely one or another had gone overboard. Indeed, as they looked back, they saw one youth struggling in the water near the toppled-over mast, while another was trailing behind, clutching some broken cordage. The third lad was nowhere to be seen.

“What shall we do?” yelled Paul, to make himself heard above the wind.

“I’ll try to bring the sloop around,” answered Jack. “Stand ready to throw them some ropes and those life-preservers.”

As well as the squall would permit, the young major sent the Alice around. Even with only the jib set this was a dangerous operation, and he would not have undertaken it had he not thought it a case of life or death. As the sloop came broadside to the squall a wave struck her and broke over the deck. The full force of this landed on Pepper, carrying him off his feet in a twinkling. As he slid around Paul made a clutch for him and held fast.

“Goo – good for you, Stuffer!” gasped Pepper, when he could speak. “Say, but that was something awful!” And he took a better hold than before.

“I am afraid some of those fellows will go down before we can reach them,” answered Paul. “My, what a blow this is! And it looked to be a perfect afternoon when we started out!”

The sloop boasted of two life-preservers, with lines attached, and as well as they were able the cadets got these in readiness for use. In the meanwhile Jack, having brought the craft up in the wind, was now “jockeying” to get close to the overturned craft without crashing into the wreck or running anybody down. This was a delicate task, and would have been practically impossible had not the breeze just then died down a little.

“Save us! Save us!” came from the water, as the Alice drew closer.

“We’ll do it!” yelled back the boys from Putnam Hall.

“Here, catch the life-preserver!” called out Paul, and flung the preserver in question toward Bat Sedley, who was floundering around near the half-submerged mast. The Pornell Academy lad saw it coming and made a dive for it, catching it with one hand. Pepper threw the second life-preserver to Fred Century, who was trying to pull himself toward his wrecked craft by some loose ropes.

“Where is the third boy?” was asked, but for the moment nobody could answer that question. Bat Sedley had seen him hanging fast to some ropes as the Ajax went over, but had not seen him since.

“He must have gone down – ” began Pepper, when Jack set up a shout.

“There he is, under the edge of that sail,” and he pointed to where the broad mainsail of the Ajax rose and fell on the waves. True enough, Will Carey was there, one arm and one leg caught fast in the sheeting and some ropes. He had been struggling, but now he fell back and went under, out of sight.

“We have got to save him!” cried Jack. “Here, Pepper, take the tiller.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Go overboard after him.”

As he spoke the youthful owner of the Alice pulled off his cadet coat and cap. The next instant he was at the side of the sloop. He poised himself for a dive, and then cut the water like a knife and disappeared from view.