Chapter XXIV: An Attack and a Fight

“What’s doing, Andy?”

“Wait and see. You won’t have to wait long.”

The bully of Putnam Hall and his cronies were sleepy and soon tumbled on their cots. They had scarcely gotten under the blankets when a general cry arose.

“Oh, my! I’m stuck full of pins!”

“Ouch! Something is sticking me in the middle of the back!”

“Ker-chew! Who—ker-chew!—put this—ker-chew!—pepper on my—ker-chew!—cot?”

“My cot is full of burrs!”

“There are thistles in mine!”

Groans and muttered imprecations followed. Dan Baxter and his cronies were wild with rage. They had to light a lantern and clean their cots and blankets with care. The boys outside sneaked to their own quarters, laughing heartily to themselves.

“When did you do it, Andy?” asked Dale.

“While the shooting was going on. I got the burrs and thistles while I was out walking this afternoon.”

“They won’t forget this encampment in a hurry,” said Pepper, with a grin.

“Look out that they don’t pay us back.”

There was other fun afloat that night, but our friends did not hear of it until morning. Then Jack brought the news.

“We are in a pickle now,” announced the young major.

“What’s up, Jack?” questioned Pepper.

“Every boat is gone.”

“The boats gone!” cried Harry Blossom. “Where did they go to?”

“Nobody seems to know.”

“Did they drift away?”

“I think not. Mr. Strong and myself saw that they were tied up last evening.”

“Some of the fellows must have used them,” said Andy.

“And forgot to tie them fast afterwards,” suggested Dale.

“Or else they hid the boats just for fun,” said Pepper.

Jack looked at his friends questioningly.

“See here, boys, please remember that I am the major at this encampment,” he began, seriously.

“We know it, Jack,” said Andy, quickly. “I, for one, know nothing of the boats.”

“And neither do I,” came from each of the others.

“Maybe it is the work of the Baxter crowd,” said Dale.

Two hours were spent in looking for the boats. Then a farmer was seen approaching the island in a small scow which had seen better days.

“Say, did you folks lose any boats?” he asked.

“Yes,” said George Strong, who was near. “All we had.”

“Well, they drifted down to my farm. Shall I bring ’em up?”

“If you will.”

“What is it worth, mister?” asked the farmer, who did not believe in working gratuitously.

Captain Putnam was called, and he told the farmer he would give two dollars to have the boats brought back.

“Can I go along and help, Captain?” asked Andy.

“Yes, you can go, and Conners can go with you,” answered Captain Putnam.

The boys were soon in the scow, and the farmer took them to the extreme end of the lake. Here they found all of the boats the school had used, drifted under some overhanging bushes.

“They are all tied together,” said Andy. “That looks as if they were taken away from the island on purpose.”

“You didn’t take them away, did you?” asked Bart Conners, of the farmer.

“Me? Not much. I was asleep last night,” was the answer. “I heard you shootin’ over to the island, but I didn’t git up.”

Andy leaped into one of the boats and picked up a cigarette butt and then another.

“I guess I know the crowd who did this,” said the acrobatic youth.

“Perhaps I do too,” said Bart, pointedly. “The same crowd that set the old boathouse on fire, eh?”

“Exactly.”

The cadets and the farmer took the boats back to the island. George Strong came down to inspect the craft and pay the farmer off.

“Humph!” said the teacher, as he saw the remains of the cigarettes. He said no more, but later on talked the matter over with Captain Putnam.

Saturday night found the cadets back at Putnam Hall, safe and sound. The march back to the school had been without special incident. The walk told on some of the students, and on Sunday many of them were content to do little but rest and eat their meals. By the majority the outing was voted a complete success. Baxter and his cronies did not appreciate it so much and wanted to “get square” with somebody for the tricks that had been played.

Once more the boys settled down to the regular routine. Many of them wanted to make a good showing when it came to the examinations and so applied themselves diligently to their studies. But some, including Reff Ritter and Dan Baxter, cared very little if they came out near the head or not.

“I expect to take a trip with my father before long,” said Dan Baxter. “I hope he takes me out of the school before the examinations come off.”

“Wish I was going away,” grumbled Ritter. “It’s mighty dull these days.”

For some reason Dan Baxter got it into his head that Pepper was responsible for all the troubles he had had, and one afternoon, when in a particularly ugly mood, he followed the Imp to the end of the campus.

“Say, Ditmore, you are getting pretty fresh, ain’t you?” he blustered.

“Thanks, Baxter, but I certainly shouldn’t wish to grow stale,” answered Pepper, coolly.

“I don’t like the way you are talking about me.”

“I don’t know as I have talked about you—at least, not lately.”

“Oh, you needn’t try to crawl out of it,” went on the bully in a loud tone, while a crowd began to collect.

“I am not crawling out of anything.”

“Maybe you’d like me to give you a good licking, eh?” went on Baxter, working himself up into a rage.

“I have no desire to fight. But if you——”

“Bah! Take that!” cried the bully, and without warning hit Pepper a stinging blow on the chin. The Imp was not prepared for the attack and went flat on his back on the grass.

“For shame, Baxter!” cried Harry Blossom, who had just come up. “That wasn’t fair at all!”

“You keep your oar out!” snarled the bully. “I know what I am doing.”

Slowly Pepper rose to his feet, a good deal dazed.

“Have you had enough?” demanded the bully, striding up with clenched fists.

“Do you call that fighting fair?” asked Pepper, slowly.

“Oh, I don’t want any gas!”

“Baxter you are a bully and a brute!”

The big cadet glared at the speaker in amazement. Then he made another lunge forward, but his fist met only the empty air, for Pepper ducked just in time.

“I’ll fix you!” roared Baxter, as he staggered forward and then recovered himself.

“I didn’t want to fight, but since you force me to defend myself, why—take that!”

As Pepper finished he let out with his right fist and took the bully fairly and squarely in the ear. Then the Imp swung around his left fist and it came in contact with Baxter’s nose and made the blood spurt. The bully staggered, but before he went down there came another blow that loosened one of his teeth.

“Now have you had enough?” asked Pepper, standing over the fallen form of the bully.

“No!” snarled Baxter, and as quickly as he could he got on his feet. But the instant he was up again, Pepper knocked him down.

“I am going to give you a dose of your own medicine, Baxter,” said the Imp. “If you try to get up again, down you go once more.”

“Boys! boys! what does this mean?” came in a stern voice, and looking up they saw Captain Putnam approaching.