Chapter III: Part 3

Jim thoroughly enjoyed the gallop across the fields, and when they had gained their position they stopped and waited, facing Hill 31. While they waited a unit of engineers, working in haste, strung a line from nearby trees to the place where Jim's cavalry outfit was waiting. This telephone line was in some places hidden in the grass and under the dirt and in some places up in the air. It communicated with the infantry base, the artillery headquarters, and went around in a looping circle and connected Jim with Stillman on the other side of the hill. It was over this line that the order to form a junction with the infantry was to be given.

Most of the waiting cavalrymen were looking at their watches, on the alert for the beginning of the artillery bombardment. It was scheduled to begin at exactly ten-thirty, and on the minute it began. The first gun roared out and a cloud of dust rose from Hill 31. The cavalry horses started and moved restlessly.

A regular series of detonations now shook the ground and jets of dust flew about the old hill. After the first furious discharge the firing abruptly ceased, to prepare a brief breathing space for a second discharge. This was a change in Major Tireson's original policy. He had given the original order to have one bombardment and then to cease firing, but the order had been changed and two distinct shellings had been ordered. After a minute of silence the second period of firing began, and this time it was more scattered and not so furious. The cavalry unit waited quietly.

"In just about five minutes we'll be on the march," thought Jim, calming his restless black horse.

At that moment the telephone box at his feet emitted a buzzing sound. Somebody was calling for him, and with a frown Jim swung down from the horse.

"Now how in the world am I going to hear anything with that firing going on?" he grumbled. "And I wonder who can be calling me? I'm not supposed to receive any message now. Whoever it is certainly wants me in a hurry, judging by the way he is buzzing."

_9. Under Fire_

Jim picked up the receiver of the telephone and spoke into it, holding the earpiece pressed close to his head. "Hello," he shouted above the din of the artillery fire. "Cavalry unit, Lieutenant Mercer speaking."

Somewhat faintly the answer came to him over the wire. "Mercer, this is Stillman calling. What in the world is happening? Why did they resume their firing?"

"That's all right, Stillman," returned Jim, thinking the new officer did not fully understand. "That was the major's orders, two bombardments, and after that you are to call me and tell me when to join the infantry."

"But don't you understand, man?" called Stillman, frantically. "I sent a man over the hill when the fire stopped!"

"What!" roared Jim.

"Certainly. Lieutenant Thompson told me the day before yesterday that a man was to be sent over the hill the minute the firing ceased. I sent Cadet Vench over the hill and he must be right in the thick of it now!"

For a moment Jim's mind reeled. In a flash the whole tragic situation came to him. Stillman had the old orders, and Thompson had not given him the changed orders, probably because he had not even seen the second Lieutenant. The major had made but a casual inquiry as to whether Stillman knew his orders correctly, and because of the carelessness a cadet had been sent over that hill, perhaps to his death. Jim found his mouth dry and everything seemed to fade from before his eyes. He snapped an order over the telephone line.

"Get word to the artillery to cease firing!" he cried. And with that he jumped to his feet and clutched at the bridle of his horse, turning to his own second lieutenant.

"Townley," he ordered, "you are in charge until I get back. Foster, ride back to the artillery base and tell them to cease firing at once! Ride like mad, for Cadet Vench is on that hill that they are bombarding!"

Foster launched forward like a shot and thundered out onto the road. With a single leap Jim was in his saddle and had jerked his horse's head around in the direction of Hill 31. Before anyone could stop him he was off in a mad gallop toward the shell-torn mound.

The shells were still falling raggedly on the top of the hill when his horse began to climb, and he hoped fervently that the bombardment would cease any moment. He could not see why it should not, for Stillman was to call the artillery on the phone at once, and Jim had even taken the precaution to send a cavalryman back in the remote case that the telephone line would not work. He realized, as his horse flew with sure feet up the sloping sides of the heap of earth, that he was risking his life and that of his horse, but he meant to go through with it. The firing would cease any minute, and the cadet might be injured, in which case he would have to be rushed to the emergency sick bay just back of the infantry base. In the flurry of the last few moments he had forgotten that it was Vench who was out there, but now he remembered it perfectly.

Jim felt the sweat break out on his forehead as they approached the territory in which the shells were falling. Hope suggested that Vench might have been on the edge of the hill when the firing began and that he might have rolled down and out of danger. He might even be back with the other wing of cavalry at the time, and under the circumstances it was not probable that Stillman would call a halt on the artillery fire. A new thought raced through Jim's mind. If Vench had indeed returned uninjured and Stillman had withheld the order to cease firing, he was simply running his own head into grave danger which would do no one any good and which would bring down the major's wrath upon him. But Jim felt that he had done the right thing and he kept on.

A shell bursting a few yards before him threw dirt up in his face and caused his horse to snort and rear, and Jim realized then that he was actually under fire. It was with an instinctive roll that he threw himself from the animal and looked dazedly around. The hill, now pit-marked from the fire, was otherwise bare, except for one growth of dead trees and bushes toward the middle, and it was there that Jim sighted Vench. The cadet was lying face downward, with one hand held over his head, motionless, and Jim, forgetting his own peril, ran forward, calling his name. The terrified horse rushed madly down the other side of the hill.

Vench did not answer Jim's call and the cadet lieutenant ran toward him. Just as he reached the inert figure a shell exploded back of him, and a short thick piece of wood flew through the air, striking Jim on the head. He pitched to the ground, over Vench's outstretched legs.

Although Jim did not know it, that was the last shot. The artillery fire died away abruptly. The telephone message had not gotten through to the artillery, due to bad connections in the stringing of the wires, but Cadet Foster had plunged like lightning into the artillery base camp. He shouted an order to the captain and then explained matters swiftly. With a look of horror the artillery officer signalled frantically from gun to gun and the fire stopped with a final crash.

The infantry, the unit that the major was with, prepared to move up, thinking that the artillery had ceased to fire according to schedule, although the major knew that the firing time was still two minutes short. Foster rode to him, saluted and explained that Cadet Vench had started over the hill and that Lieutenant Mercer had followed. Don started and his heart sank as he heard the report, which was made in the presence and hearing of all the foot soldiers. The major grew red in the face.

"What did Lieutenant Stillman mean by sending a man over the hill?" he roared. "He had strict orders not to do so! By George, I'll hang him for this!" He turned to his infantry captain, Rhodes. "Captain, accompany me to the hill. Lieutenant, take charge of the men here and send one of them for the ambulance. Come, Captain Rhodes."

The major and the young captain rode off furiously and an orderly hastened to summon the ambulance, which jogged across the uneven fields a minute later. The artillery unit stood quietly beside their guns, and the infantry and cavalry did the same. Don was very pale but perfectly quiet. Lieutenant Sommers looked briefly at the men left in his charge and then stood at attention, looking straight ahead, satisfied that they would carry themselves as they should.

The major and Rhodes had now arrived at the foot of the hill and they spurred rapidly up the incline. The cadets were all in plain sight, that is, all but the division which Jim had commanded, and the ones who could see were watching with painful interest. At the top of the hill the two officers jumped from their horses and hastened to the two cadets who lay so quietly under the stunted, twisted tree.

"Only stunned, both of them," said Major Tireson after a hasty examination. "Is the ambulance here?"

"It is, sir," reported Rhodes, pushing back his trench helmet.

The major imperiously signalled the stretcher-bearers to come up and four men ran to them with stretchers. Both cadets, still unconscious, were loaded on them. They were both placed in the ambulance and run quickly back to the field hospital. Don, watching all this from a distance, felt his throat go dry and his eyes smarted, and although he had a terrible impulse to break ranks and find out how badly his brother had been hurt he controlled the impulse and waited until the major and Rhodes spurred up to them.

"Just stunned, both of them," said the major, loudly, and Don breathed a prayer of thanksgiving. The major, feeling that something was needed to break the tension, and wishing to teach them that nothing must halt military activities at any time, gave the order to advance, and Don felt a temporary relief in the action which followed.

Although the cadets obeyed every order which was given and everything was carried out according to orders, the spirit with which the young soldiers had begun the day was lacking. The closeness with which they had come to tragedy had shaken them, and their minds were not on the words of command. After a mock storming of the hill they were marched back to the encampment, and no sooner were the ranks broken than Don made a rush for the hospital tent.

Terry was there before him and was sitting at the bedside when Don entered. Jim grinned up at him weakly and thrust out his hand.

"Hi, kid," he said. "Did I have you worried?"

"You sure did," returned his brother with fervor. "How do you feel, Jim?"

"Okay now," nodded Jim. "I was just stunned, that is all. Terry was just a witness to a touching scene."

"What was that?" asked Don curiously.

"Why," explained the artillery cadet, grinning, "Mr. Vench swore eternal loyalty to Jim!"

"Did Vench make friends with you?" asked Don eagerly.

"Yes," answered Jim. "They took him back to school, because he has a gash in his head, but before he went he apologized and told me that he could never be sufficiently grateful to me. I was glad that Terry was here to save me from total embarrassment."

"Just the same," said Don. "You did a very brave thing, Jim, and I'm proud of you. You could easily have waited until the bombardment was over and then have gone up." He looked around and lowered his voice. "I certainly wouldn't want to be the major, because he is the one to blame. If he is sensible he won't say a word."

_10. Rebellion_

When the cadets returned to school and routine life was resumed the young soldiers were loud in their praises of Don and Jim. They admired the fortitude with which Don had kept quiet and calm when he had learned of Jim's plight, and they admired Jim's plucky action. And most of them were surprised at the changed attitude of Cadet Vench.

Up to that time the little cadet had been intensely disliked and he had few friends. A few of the students who knew him better than the others called to pay their respects to the injured man and they returned to tell strange tales of a completely changed Vench. He had lost his air of superiority and his boastfulness and he led the way in praising his recent enemy. His injuries were not grave, but he had been badly shaken and at the advice of the doctor he remained in his room and did his studying there. The gash in his head healed rapidly.

He told his story several times and the cadets were much interested in it. He had just reached the top of the hill when the second round of artillery fire had started and he was scared and bewildered. He had started to run for the shelter of the trees, hoping that the fire would cease long enough to give him a chance to roll backward down the hill. But as he lay there a stone had hit him and that was the last he had known until he found himself in the field hospital.

The cadets discussed the carelessness of the major in low tones, and the general opinion was that he would say nothing concerning it all. But in this they were mistaken. On the evening following their return to Woodcrest a large group was standing on the campus in the light of Locke Hall when Second Lieutenant Stillman came out of the door and started toward Inslee Hall, where he roomed. Rhodes noted a look of dejection and anger on the face of the cadet officer and hailed him.

"Hi there, Stillman," he said. "What's the matter with your face?"

"You mean the expression of it?" asked Stillman ruefully.

"Why, yes," laughed Rhodes. "Now that I take notice of it, the face itself is all right. But the look that is on it at present doesn't draw any favorable comment."

"I've had a mean time in there," said Stillman, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the main hall. "Major Tireson called me down for that affair at the hill."

"For sending Vench over?" asked Dallenger, a third class man.

"Yes," nodded Stillman.

"But you didn't take it, did you?" inquired Don.

"Why, yes, I suppose I did. I more or less had to."

"You did not," said Cadet Chipps. "The major asked you if you had received the orders and you said that you had received them two days previous. Instead of checking up on you to see if you had the correct ones he let you go on. It distinctly was not your fault."

"Well, he said it was, and he talked pretty hotly, too, I assure you. Naturally, I couldn't talk back to the major."

"You certainly could have," retorted Don. "You didn't have to be snappy about it, but as long as you were in the right you should have stood firm."

"Maybe," shrugged Stillman, moving away. "But that's easier said than done."

Talk concerning the major became more pointed and it is probable that some of it reached his ears. At any rate, on that very night, as Don, Jim and Terry were studying in their room there came a knock on the door and Jim bade the knocker enter. The door opened to admit the major and all three boys rose quickly and saluted. The major returned the salute shortly and faced Jim.

"Mr. Mercer," he said. "I want to take this opportunity to speak to you. Do you feel well enough to talk?"

"Yes, sir," answered Jim wonderingly.

"I just want to tell you that I did not approve of your rash act at Hill 31," said the major, excitement growing on him. "I understand that some of the cadets think you quite a hero and that in consequence you may become heir to a swelled head. I personally do not think that you did anything commendable, and you greatly endangered me by your foolishness. If anything had happened to you I would have been blamed. In the future you will be kind enough to mind your own business and stick to orders. You will perhaps recall that you had no orders to make any melodramatic dash up the hill in the face of the artillery fire. Do you understand?"

"I do," said Jim, his eyes flashing. "But I do not need orders to make me try to help someone out of difficulty, sir!"

"That will do," snapped the major. "You will find out that this is a military school and not a place where you can do as you like. I will place twenty-five demerits beside your name for what you did that day."

"Very well, sir," said Jim, calmly.

"Wait a minute, Major Tireson," said Don, with equal quietness, but with a determined look in the set of his jaw. "You will do nothing of the kind!"

The major's eyes bulged. "Silence, sir! How dare you speak to me when I am not even addressing you?"

"I repeat what I said," returned Don, coolly. "You will place no demerit marks against Jim's name. We both expect to graduate from here with clean records and we will permit no marks to be placed against us unless we knowingly break the rules. Jim didn't do that and so you will not do what you said you will do!"

"Mercer," snarled the major. "I will order you under arrest!"

"You may do what you like," retorted Don. "But it will do you no good. Every cadet in this school knows that what happened is your fault, Major Tireson, and not anyone else's. Every cadet is blaming Lieutenant Stillman for having taken demerit marks from you. You yourself know that you made no effort to check up and find out if the second lieutenant knew his orders, and under those circumstances Jim will not take any punishment from you or from anyone else!"

For one moment the temporary headmaster glared at him and then his tone became cold. "Report yourself under arrest, Mr. Mercer," he commanded.

"Certainly, sir," agreed Don with composure. "Until tomorrow evening, and if you have not released me by then I shall leave the school for good!"

"Remain in your room under arrest, Mr. Mercer," repeated the major, and turning on his heel he went out, banging the door after him.

"Well, what do you know about that!" gasped Terry, sinking down on the bed.

"I know that I'll follow Don out if he tries to keep him under arrest," answered Jim, briefly.

"He won't try it," promised Don, grimly. And a few moments later, when Chipps and Rhodes came in on a visit, they told him the cadets would stand back of him.

"In fact," said Rhodes, getting up. "I think I'll spread the word right now for a general rebellion!"

"Oh, you aren't going that far, are you?" asked Don.

"Absolutely!" said the senior captain. "Major Tireson must be shown conclusively that he can't pull off a stunt like that and get away with it. That would be making ninnies out of the whole cadet corps. Jim did the right thing and we won't stand for treatment of that kind, as long as the major himself is the guilty one."

The two seniors departed to spread the word and before taps sounded the cadet body was seething with excitement. A definite plan was formulated and in the morning it was launched.

The cadets, with the exception of Don, filed into chapel in the morning and sat quietly down. The services went off as usual and then the major gave the signal for dismissal. A few fourth class men got up, but the senior and third class remained seated. Following their example the second class remained seated also.

The major looked at them in amazement. "I said assembly dismissed, gentlemen," he said.

There was nothing but silence over the entire hall and the major's eyes blazed. "What does this mean?"

Rhodes stood in his place and faced him quietly. "I have been delegated by the cadet corps to say that we will not return either to study or to drill until Cadet Mercer, of the fourth class, has been released and all blame for the campaign affair withdrawn from Lieutenant Stillman and Cadet James Mercer," he stated.

"Oh!" hissed the major, when he had fully comprehended. "A school rebellion, eh?"

"We hope not, sir," respectfully returned Rhodes. "But if necessary it will be. The cadet corps has also commissioned me to say that all blame for the Hill 31 affair is to be laid directly to you, Major Tireson. Here at Woodcrest we are taught that military service demands absolute efficiency, especially in the giving and interpreting of orders, and yet the biggest blunder, and one which might have cost two lives, has been made by our commanding officer. We feel that any cadet in the ranks, upon learning that Lieutenant Thompson was ill, would have immediately seen to it that his appointed successor had the correct orders, particularly as those orders had been changed. In the hearing of many of the cadets you were told that Lieutenant Stillman had received orders that were two days old, and yet you allowed that statement to go unchallenged. Under the circumstances the cadet corps feels that punishment of these cadets and the imprisonment of Cadet Mercer is an insult to our organization and will not permit it to go on!"

"A very pretty speech," sneered the major, livid with rage. "Sit down, sir!"

"We will now march to the breakfast hall," went on Rhodes, ignoring the order. "But we will not attend any class or any drill until you have complied with our request. We also feel that we are being lenient with you in not asking you to apologize to the cadets you have reprimanded!"

"You sit down!" bellowed the major. "You won't get a mouthful until you have returned to study and drill! Dictate to me, will you? I'll punish every one of you and show you how to obey orders quickly!"

"Any tactics such as those," warned the senior, "will be followed by the worst thing that can possibly happen to the school. Every member will return to his own home and remain there until Colonel Morrell has returned or until you back down in your stand." The senior captain turned his back on the enraged headmaster. "Corps, attention! March as orderly as possible into the dining room!"

"I'll have the food stopped and you won't get a mouthful!" roared the major.

"The minute you give such an order you will be put outside the building and the doors locked against you!" returned Captain Rhodes, quietly. Turning to the waiting cadets he cried briskly: "Get into action, boys. Forward march!"

The corps marched impassively into the dining room and took up its place around the tables. The instructors lingered in the assembly hall for a moment, waiting for word from the major, but as none came, they joined the students in the dining room. Taking complete charge of the situation the senior captain asked a blessing on the food and then the cadets ate a hearty breakfast.

Rhodes kept his eyes open during the meal, but nothing happened until the close when an instructor beckoned him to come outside. The senior left the room and the cadets waited while they finished their coffee. Rhodes returned after a few minutes and rapped for attention.

"The rebellion is over, gentlemen," he announced. "Major Tireson has agreed to release Cadet Mercer and to forget the entire affair. We will now return to our classes and drill in the spirit of the corps, if you please."

There was a slight feeling of disappointment on the part of the cadet body, but they went back to routine without murmur. Don was told later in the morning to go down and get his breakfast and report to his second call for classes. He did so, and later Rhodes spoke to him briefly.

"Our threat to leave the school was what finally tamed him," the senior said. "He wailed a bit about my disrespect and insults and so forth, but finally agreed to hush up the entire matter. You and Jim won't have any more trouble on that score."

"I guess not," agreed Don. "But I'll bet he won't love the Mercer brothers from now on!"

One murmur ran through the body of cadets with increasing force. "I wish that something definite would be done about locating our colonel," Lieutenant Sommers expressed it.

_11. Vench Breaks Silence_

For a time things went on as usual at Woodcrest. The major kept to himself and had almost nothing to do with the cadet corps. He led the morning services and looked briefly on at drill times, but aside from that he paid no attention to them. His attitude, the new boys were told, was directly opposite to that of the colonel, who mixed in with them and shared their life in a spirit of comradeship. The major was not popular and his absence was not greatly mourned.

Once or twice strange men came and talked with the major, men who had the look of police detectives, but evidently nothing new had been learned of the missing headmaster's whereabouts. The four friends kept a close watch on their own account and several times passed close to Clanhammer Hall purposely to see if there was anything to be learned. But they did not find out anything until Cadet Vench broke his long silence.

The little cadet was growing more and more popular with the corps and was himself astonished at the change in his own life. He had never before realized that to be respected and liked meant everything in the world, and he was slowly learning what it was to have real friends. He had abandoned his over-wise attitude, was now devoting himself to his studies, and on the whole was living a vastly improved life. The Mercers and their own immediate friends helped him all that they could without being tactless about it, and it was to this circumstance that they owed the fact that Vench told his story.

He found the four of them back of the boathouse one late afternoon enjoying the declining sun and discussing sports. They were seated on the boat runway and the little cadet sat down beside them. They greeted him genially.

"Well, what's on your mind, kid?" said Terry.

"I want to tell you guys something," returned Vench.

"Fire away," invited Don.

"I want to tell you what I saw in Clanhammer Hall that night!" said Vench, unexpectedly.

They sat up in genuine interest. "I wish you would," said Rhodes. "When you get through we'll tell you why we are so anxious to know. Perhaps you can help us more than you realize."

"I hope I can," returned Vench, looking around to see that no one was within earshot. "Well, listen, here is the story. As you know, I said I was going to put on a dance that would make history in this school. We were going to start fixing the place up that night when that business came up in the library, the slashing of the picture and all that. We knew that there would be guards around the school and that it would be even harder to try a stunt like that, but I was determined to put it over, so I went ahead and made plans. And my biggest plan was to have it in Clanhammer Hall.

"At first I had planned to have it in the gym, the usual way, you know. But just about then I got the idea that it would add to the romance or thrill or whatever you want to call it by having it in Clanhammer Hall. Some of the fellows told me that it was strictly against the rules to go into that place, it was a sort of mysterious shrine, they said, but that made me all the more anxious to have it there. So we planned it that way and I asked if anybody knew anything about the outlay of the old place. No one did, so I decided to go in myself and look it over.

"Don was patrolling up and down when I slipped out of the side door and I waited until he got out of sight down along the lake front. Then I sneaked to the back of the old building and pried open a cellar window. I dropped down into the place and looked around--I had a flashlight with me--and I saw that it was an ordinary basement with old ash cans and a big furnace and coal bins, and whatever else goes to make up a basement. After a couple of minutes I found the stairs and went up to the top, where I didn't have any trouble breaking open the door and getting into the hall. I flashed the light into a room or two downstairs, one an old office and one a classroom that was mighty small, and I decided that upstairs would be the better place to go. We'd be safer, I thought, and so I went up the stairs to the second floor. The thing that puzzled me was this, I smelled cooking in that old place!"

"What!" cried the others, in a breath.

"Yes, real cooking, something with plenty of grease in it. I don't know just what it was," said Vench.

"Well, I'll be darned!" gasped Terry. "I saw evidence of the same thing. Somebody is making a regular hotel of that place!"

"I had half a notion to go down and investigate," continued Vench. "But I thought I'd take a look around the upstairs before I did. I thought I had a lot of courage to go into the place alone to begin with, but when I got to the upper floor I felt my courage ooze away. One look, I thought, and then I'd go down again and come back with the fellows. There was a small room right off of the staircase and I walked in there. Once inside I turned on the flash, and found to my dismay that it was going out. But in the feeble light that came from it I could see dimly around the room, which seemed to be a small study, with a faded carpet, a desk and a couple of chairs. There was just one small window in that room, rather high up, and as I stood there looking around my light went out.

"I snapped it a couple of times to see if it would go on again, but nothing happened. The room was pitch black, and I was wondering how the devil I was going to get back to the cellar window. At the time I was bending over the useless flashlight, and then I felt the hair on my head begin to crinkle up and pull. There was a faint light coming from somewhere, and a minute later I saw a beam of yellow light in the hall. It was the light of a candle, and it was coming down the hall toward the room I was in. Although my legs seemed stiff as boards I did manage to somehow drop down behind that desk and watch.

"After what seemed an age someone came to the door. The light had been moving toward me all the time, but I hadn't heard a sound. Now a candle in a tin holder was thrust around the edge of the door and a minute later an old man looked into the room. His face was long, his hair all straggly and his eyes were narrow and close together!"

"The same man I saw!" breathed Terry.

"He looked around the room but did not come in. I guess he was only suspicious, for after a little while he went away, as noiselessly as he had come. He went up to the third floor, judging by the way the light went, and I waited until I was sure he had gone before I left that room. And I assure you I left it in a hurry. I found the stairs all right and got to the cellar, where I got another scare when I saw Don looking in the window. That's what I saw in Clanhammer Hall, and of course we didn't have our dance."

"So that's what you saw there!" exclaimed Jim, drawing a deep breath.

"Yes, and I've been puzzled over it ever since. I kept it to myself and no one else knows it. Now let's hear what you have to tell me."

Terry told his part and the others filled in. Vench was impressed. "Something very wrong with that old school," he commented.

"Do you think we ought to tell Major Tireson?" asked Don, of Rhodes. The senior thought it over and then shook his head.

"No, I don't," he said. "That might clear things up and then again it might not. What I do think is this, we ought to go through Clanhammer Hall some day ourselves!"

"But not at night!" objected Jim.

"No, that would be foolish. In the first place, we wouldn't be able to see anything, and in the second place I am no more keen to prowl around there after dark than you are. We'll simply break in some afternoon, perhaps tomorrow, and look around ourselves. If we are caught there we can simply tell our story and say that we wanted to investigate. They can't do much to us for that."

"No, I don't think they can. Do you want to go through tomorrow afternoon?" asked Don.

After some more talk they all agreed to break into Clanhammer Hall on the following afternoon and then they prepared for supper. The evening passed as usual and they went to bed. How long they had been asleep they did not know, but they were aroused by the furious ringing of the fire gong. With one accord they leaped from their beds.

"Now what is going on?" began Jim, but Terry, who had raced to the window, interrupted him.

"It's a sure enough fire this time," he called. "And, by George, it's Clanhammer Hall!"

They rushed to the window. One corner of the old school building could be seen from there and Terry had spoken the truth. The back of the place was on fire and the flames could be seen curling up against the sky. Already the campus was dotted here and there with cadets who had run out, scantily clothed.

"Come on!" shouted Don, leaping for his clothes. "Let's get out there! We'll find out something important now!"

In a few minutes the boys were out on the campus and running rapidly across the wet grass toward the old building. The flames were mounting higher and they could see that a shed in the back, which was joined to the main building, was burning briskly. The roof was on fire and there was no time to be lost.

The major had arrived on the scene and had taken charge. Some of the cadets ran down to the boathouse and dragged out the fire-fighting equipment, consisting of a hose reel and some axes. There was a fire hydrant at the corner of Clinton Hall, and before long a solid stream of water was playing on the roof of the shed. Some of the cadets had started to form a bucket brigade, but seeing that the hose would do the work much more efficiently they stopped and all stood around watching. Rhodes held the hose and under his direction the fire was speedily put out.

Don, Jim and Terry watched the old building with interest, hoping to see someone show themselves at the windows, but there was no sign of life and soon darkness fell over the landscape. The major, who seemed anxious about the fire, saw to it that the rear portion of the building was well soaked before he allowed the cadets to turn off the water. Rhodes offered to go inside and see if there was any fire inside.

"Never mind, Mr. Rhodes," said the major. "I'll attend to that." He took out a bunch of keys and went around to the front, where he let himself in. Some of the cadets, finding it quite cold outside, went back to bed, but several stayed to see if there were any further developments. In less than five minutes the major was back with them.

"No fire inside," he announced. "I thank you for your prompt work, boys. I would have felt very badly indeed if anything had happened to the dear old school building. You may put the hose reel away."

Some of the cadets put the hose reel away and the major, on the plea that they would catch cold, ordered the rest of the young soldiers to their rooms. Rhodes stopped just outside their door and talked in low tones to Terry and the brothers.

"I'm afraid this puts our projected search off a bit," he said.

"You think it wouldn't be wise to go in there right away?" questioned Don.

"Yes, that's it. I am afraid the major will keep a pretty close watch on the place from now on, simply to see that no one does go in there out of curiosity."

"You noticed that the major had a key, didn't you?" whispered Jim.

"Yes, but that, in itself, isn't so very suspicious. There must be some sort of key in the office here. But this is the suspicious part, I wanted to go in with the major. He wouldn't allow me to go. And he never asked how it got on fire or made any fuss about it. Now I'm more than ever glad that we didn't take our story to him."

Before any more could be said Captain Chalmers appeared in the hall. "All in bed, boys," said the instructor pleasantly, and Rhodes hurried off to his own room.

_12. The Paper Chase_

One of the oldest sports at Woodcrest was the game of hare and hounds, paper chase, the boys called it. It was the custom of those interested to divide into two groups, one the hares and the other the hounds. The hares were provided with canvas bags which they filled full of paper, and they were given an hour's start of the hounds. The hares dropped the paper as they ran through the woods, thus providing a definite trail for the hounds to follow. The game generally took all day, and the hares were supposed to arrive back at the school before the hounds overtook them. Each year the rivalry was very keen, and for some years past the hares had won. Veteran members of the hounds were out for revenge that year, and the three friends, as members of the track team, were welcomed to the game with eagerness.

One Tuesday was given over to the game, a Tuesday which happened to be Election Day and a holiday at Woodcrest, and early in the morning the two teams met on the edge of the campus down near the woods. There were about thirty boys willing to play the game, which was strenuous in the extreme, and they divided up quickly. All had been provided with sandwiches and the hares had the bags of paper.

Rhodes, Vench, Merton and Chipps were on the side of the hares, with a dozen other boys, and Don, Jim, Terry, Lieutenant Thompson and others were running with the hounds. Final instructions were given and the hares started off for the dark woods.

"See you guys right here at nightfall," called out Chipps, waving to the hounds as they sallied out.

"Yes, we'll have a fire going to roast you rabbits!" returned Terry, as the hounds settled down to wait for their time to come.

The hares broke away on a slow run, dropping bits of paper as they went. If the majority of the hares were captured, the decision went to the hounds, but if the hares got a majority back in the yard before the hounds overtook them the victory was theirs. So the hounds waited impatiently for the word to go. Thompson, who was captain of the hounds, had to curb their impatience. Some of them wanted to kick a football around, but the leader put an end to that.

"We've got a long run ahead of us," he warned them. "If we go running around chasing a football we'll be winded and they'll run circles around us. Remember, this is our year."

It was a glorious November day and the hounds found great difficulty in remaining still. Overhead a bright sun shone out of a clear blue sky and a cool breeze assured them that they would not become exhausted from any undue heat. The leaves had turned all colors and the lake was a steel blue. Each young man felt exhilarated and ambition surged high.

When the hour was up Thompson gave the word and the hounds set off at a loping run. They would be compelled to run faster than the hares, who had now a fair start over them, but they were planning to travel steadily and hoped to figure out short-cuts. That was the dangerous part of it all, for they might decide to leave the trail and cut across a hill or valley, figuring that the trail led there, and if they were mistaken valuable time would be lost. The paper trail was easy to follow, for the hares were together, but later on they would split into pairs or threes, and then the work would become harder and the body of hounds would disintegrate. Except on the home stretch, when within a mile or two of the school, the hares never went singly, but always travelled in pairs and threes. That meant that the hounds split up into as many groups and pursued the hares in the same manner.

For about five miles the hounds pursued the hares in one body, and it was not until noontime that they found out from the trail that the hares had split. Down in the hollow of a swamp the paper trail went in different directions, and the hounds stopped to plan their campaign.

"Three of them went this way," said Thompson, pointing toward the east. "Billings, Barton and I will follow those three. The rest of you fellows pick up a trail and follow it. Well, we'll be getting on. Don't lag, and we'll see you at the fire tonight."

The three cadets struck off through the woods on the trail and the other boys set about finding trails of their own. Terry and some of the others trotted away to the west on a trail and Don and Jim examined the nearby bushes. Finally Don straightened up.

"There's a pair running off in this direction," he said, pointing north. "Let's get underway, Jim."

He and Jim followed the trail, picking it up from pieces of paper that showed through the underbrush, and they tirelessly followed it for three miles, without coming across any of the fleeing hares. Shortly past noon they stopped at a farmhouse and took a drink from a well, sitting down against the fence to eat. They did not spend much time eating, but as soon as the meal was over they hurried back to the woods and took up the trail in earnest.

The chase was leading them into wild country, heavily wooded and broken by small ranges of hills. Very few houses were to be seen, and so far they had not noticed anything that would lead them to believe that there was a town near by. It was not until three o'clock that they came to the edge of a clearing and saw before them a little country town. A single spur of the railroad ran through the place, six or seven small frame houses grouped near the station, and off in the distance they saw the roofs of some fairly good-looking homes. Yellow, dusty roads wound over the nearby hills.

"Wonder what place this is?" said Jim.

"I don't know," returned Don. "The hares just skirted the place, judging by their trail. Let's walk down near the station and see what place it is."

Jim grinned. "I don't know why such a sleepy-looking place has a station," he observed. "If the engineer happened to be looking the other way he wouldn't even notice the town."

They veered off the paper trail and approached the tiny station which was bathed in the late afternoon sun's glow. Don narrowed his eyes and read the sign over the structure.

"Spotville Point," he read. "Well, it isn't much more than a point, at that."

"Spotville Point," mused Jim. "Where have I heard that name before? Oh, I know!"

"And so do I!" exclaimed Don. "This is the town where Colonel Morrell got off the train and was never heard of again!"

Forgetting the paper chase in their interest the two brothers walked up to the little board shack and examined it with interest. It was a one-story affair with a small platform, a single waiting room and a tiny office. Through the screen the boys could look across the tracks and see the station agent inside, bending over a book.

"Don," said Jim, "the Colonel got off at this spot, and he had a good reason to do so. Maybe we can unearth some clue."

"Maybe," shrugged Don. "But I imagine that the detectives have been over every foot of the way. However, I'm willing to make a try at it. What do you suggest?"

"How would it be to talk to the station agent?"

"I don't know. Perhaps he's tired of talking about it already, but we'll attempt it. Nothing like trying."

The Mercer boys approached the window, which was open, and looked through the screen. As their shadows fell across the desk the agent looked up. He was a thin old man in a faded blue uniform.

"Hello," he nodded. "Ticket for where?"

"We're not in the market right now," smiled Don. "We'd just like a little information. I suppose you know all of the people and houses around here, don't you?"

"Hope so," said the agent. "Been stationmaster here for ten years."

"Then of course you know them all," agreed Don. "You were working during the early part of October weren't you?"

"No," was the unexpected reply. "I wasn't. I was sick then, and Tommy Grady was taking my trick. I came down sick about October fourth and I just got around to my work again on the first of November."

"Then you were here on the third of October?" questioned Jim, eagerly.

"Sure I was. Why?"

"Perhaps we shouldn't bother you," said Don. "No doubt you have been questioned by the detectives."

The old man stood up, suspicion showing plainly on his face. He looked closely at their uniforms.

"Say, what are you boys up to?" he asked. "No detectives didn't ask me anything. What's your game?"

"This is the only Spotville Point there is in the state, isn't it?" pressed Don.

"Sure it is. But what----"

"Do you mean to say that detectives haven't been here to see you about an elderly stout man who got off here on the third of October?" asked Jim.

"Nobody's been to see me. As soon as I was took sick I went away to Spartenburgh to get well. They might have been to see Tommy."

"Look here," said Don. "We're cadets from Woodcrest School. On the third of October our colonel started for the school and for some reason he got off here at Spotville Point. He was never seen again. Now, you say you were here on the third, and detectives say they have checked up thoroughly. How is it that they haven't been to see you?"

"I'll tell you why they ain't!" cried the old man, his eyes suddenly lighting up. "Me and Tommy has had an argument. He claims he was on here since October second, and I know doggone well he wasn't! He's tryin' to get in some extra pay, if you ask me. I know I was here on October third. Maybe they have been talking to Tommy."

"They must have been," nodded Don quickly. "But do you remember the man I'm talking about? Surely you must remember everyone who gets off here, and as that was your last day before you got sick, I should think you'd surely remember."

"I do remember him!" cried the agent. "A little fat man, yes sir! I remember him as plain as day! I--Oh, murder!"

He sat down suddenly and stared at the boys in dismay. They looked blankly back at him.

"What's wrong?" demanded Jim.

Without answering them the agent opened first one drawer in his desk and then another, searching around in them. At last he brought out a plain postal card and looked at it.

"Good grief," he groaned. "That little man you're talking about came in here and wrote out this postal card. He gave it to me to send for him, but I clean forgot it. I put it in the desk to send off the next day, and then I didn't come into work the next day. Good grief!"

"Will you let me see it?" asked Don, trembling slightly and reaching under the screen. The agent passed it to him, seemed to hesitate and was about to draw it back, but Don, seeing his intention and reading the sudden thoughts which had surged into the old man's head, drew it to him by the tips of his fingers. Eagerly he and Jim bent over it. It was dated October third and the brief message read as follows:

"Dear Merton;

Received a telegram to drop off at Spotville Point to see Morton
Dennings. Perhaps I can come to some agreement with him. Going on to
the school from here.

Elmer."

Jim turned the card over. It was addressed to "Merton Morrell, 95 Orchard Street, Rockwood, N. Y."

"The colonel's brother," said Don, and Jim nodded.

"That is an important clue," said his brother.

"Yes," returned Don. "Do you know of a man named Morton Dennings?" he asked the agent.

"Yes, I know him by sight. He's a wealthy man who has a summer home here, out at the end of the town, on Blackberry Lane. But you won't find him now, 'cause he's gone back to New York City. The house is closed up."

"How do we get to the house?" asked Jim.

The agent turned in his chair and pointed down the dusty road. "Take that road as far as the crossroads and you'll see Blackberry Lane. The house is down there; you can't miss it."

"Thanks," said Don. "It was a good thing you forgot to mail this postal, sir. Up to the present time there hasn't been a single clue, but this will perhaps mean much."

"Say, listen bub," called the stationmaster, hesitatingly. "If--if--well, in case----"

"I understand what you mean," said Don, looking closely at the bowed old man in a new light. "Yes, there is a large reward out for the finding of Colonel Morrell, and I promise you that if anything comes of this clue you shall surely profit by it. Now we're going down the road and take a look at that house Dennings lived in. My name is Mercer, and this is my brother. If you should hear that Colonel Morrell has been found from any clue you may have furnished you can write to us at Woodcrest and we'll gladly see to it that you are fairly rewarded. Thanks for your information and the card. So long."

Jim and Don left the station platform and the old man looked after them in some doubt.

"I wonder if I was a fool to give that card to those boys?" he pondered. "They look honest, but you can't be too sure of anybody these days. I hope they find their colonel."

He returned to alternately dreaming and shaking his head.

_13. Vench Is Astonished_

Jim and Don hurried down the road in the direction which the old man had indicated. They knew that haste was necessary for the sun was sinking rapidly and they were a long way from home.

"We'll have to ride back somehow," said Don, as they talked it over. "If we don't the others will think that we were lost in the woods and will be anxious about us."

"That's true," agreed Jim. "But this is an important clue."