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CHAPTER XV
AT THE HOTEL

At once Dave and all the other students who had come to the hotel with Phil, expecting a fine spread, saw that something was wrong. They looked questioningly at the shipowner’s son and at the hotel proprietor.

“What’s the matter?” demanded Phil, quickly.

“Matter?” repeated Jason Sparr. “That’s just exactly what I’d like to know.”

“You – you are ready for us, aren’t you?” went on Phil, with a sudden catch in his voice.

“Why should I be ready, when you called the whole thing off?” growled the hotel man. “Fine way to do, I must say,” he continued, with strong anger in his voice.

“Called the whole thing off?” repeated Phil. “Me?”

“Yes, you!” shouted Jason Sparr. “And after we had everything in fine shape, too! Say, don’t you think my stuff is too good to send to the Old Ladies’ Home?” he demanded.

“There must be some mistake here, Mr. Sparr,” put in our hero. “Phil didn’t call this spread off. We are here for it, as you can see.”

“But he did call it off – this noon,” returned the hotel proprietor. “And he wasn’t a bit nice about it, either. When I asked him what I should do with the extras I had ordered he told me to do as I pleased – send ’em to the Old Ladies’ Home, or throw ’em away! He didn’t act a bit nice.”

“Say, you chump, you!” shouted Phil, growing suddenly angry. “I didn’t send you any word at all about calling it off. I–”

“Don’t you call me a chump, you young rascal!” shouted the hotel man, in equal heat. “I got your message over the telephone–”

“I never sent any,” interrupted Phil.

“It must be a trick,” cried Roger.

“Who played it?” queried another student.

“Maybe this is the work of some of the Military Academy fellows.”

“Like as not.”

“But how did they learn that Phil was going to give the spread?”

“Give it up.”

“Maybe some of our own fellows did it – some who didn’t get an invitation to attend,” suggested Chip.

“Would any one be so mean?” asked Buster.

“Some of them might be,” murmured Gus.

“I didn’t send you any word,” went on Phil, in greater anger than ever.

“Well, I got word, and so did Professor Smuller. He was mad, too, because he lost another job taking yours.”

“Why didn’t you make sure the word was sent by Mr. Lawrence?” demanded Ben. “You could have done that easily enough.”

“I didn’t think that was necessary. This fellow said–”

“I tell you I didn’t send word!” shouted Phil, growing more angry every instant. “You might have known it was a trick.”

“Of course, he might have known,” added Ben. He lowered his voice. “Say, Phil, if he doesn’t give us the supper make him give your money back.”

“Sure he’s got to give me the money back,” cried the shipowner’s son.

“See here, you can’t bulldoze me!” cried the hotel proprietor. “I’ve had trouble enough as it is. I got ready for this spread and then you called it off, and you were mighty sassy about it, too. I’ve lost a lot of money.”

A wordy war followed, lasting the best part of a half an hour. Through this it was learned that the hotel man had prepared for the spread, and so had the professor of music. Just after noon telephone messages had come in, calling the whole affair off. Some hot words had passed over the wire, and the hotel man was considerably ruffled. The party talking to Jason Sparr had said that when the spread did come off it would be held elsewhere – intimating that a better place than his hotel could be found.

“It’s all some trick, to get my business away from me!” stormed the hotel man. “I won’t stand for it!”

“I didn’t send the messages, and I either want the spread or I want my money back,” declared Phil, stubbornly. And then more words followed, until it looked as if there might be a fight. Finally, in a rage, Jason Sparr ordered the students from his place.

“All right, we’ll go, but you haven’t heard the end of this!” cried Phil.

“You’ll catch it, for treating us so meanly,” added Ben.

“Don’t you threaten me, or I’ll have the law on you!” roared Jason Sparr.

“Perhaps I’ll call on the law myself,” answered Phil, and then, unable to control himself, he shook his fist at the hotel man. Then all the boys filed out of the place, some bystanders looking on in wonder.

“Well, what do you think of this!” cried Gus, when outside.

“Phil, I wouldn’t say anything more just now – you are too excited,” said Dave, catching his chum by the arm.

“Yes, but that fellow is as mean as – as dirt!” answered the shipowner’s son.

“He hasn’t any right to keep Phil’s money,” said one student.

“Then the feast is called off, is it?” said Buster, with something like a groan in his voice.

“And somebody is going to have the laugh on us!” added Shadow. “Say, this puts me in mind of a story,” he added, brightening. “Once some boys were going–”

“Oh, stow it, Shadow!”

“This is no time for stories!”

“I’d rather go down to the cemetery and weep.”

“Nobody is going to have the laugh on me,” cried Phil. “We’ll get something somewhere.”

“Right you are!” cried Dave. “I’ve got it!” he added. “Let us drive over to Rockville and get something at the hotel there. I know the proprietor and he’s a nice man.”

“Better telephone to him first and make sure,” suggested Roger.

“I’ll do it,” said Phil.

The carryall was brought around again and all piled in and drove down to a drug store where there was a telephone booth. Into the booth went Phil, to communicate with the hotel in Rockville. He came out smiling.

“It’s all fixed up and I guess we’ll have something this time,” he said. “But just wait; I’ll fix that mean Jason Sparr, see if I don’t!”

“It’s quite a drive to Rockville,” protested Horsehair, when they told the driver what was wanted.

“Never mind, it will do the horses good,” cried Roger. “They are getting too fat standing still.”

“Say, Phil,” whispered Dave. “If you haven’t got money enough along, I can let you have some.”

“Good,” was the whispered return. “I was going to speak of that, as soon as I got a chance.”

The affair at the Oakdale hotel had put something of a damper on the crowd, and all the talk was of how Jason Sparr had acted and who had been mean enough to play such a trick.

“Maybe it was Nat Poole,” said Chip.

“What makes you think that?” asked Phil.

“Oh, he is mean enough for anything.”

“If Nat did this I’ll – I’ll mash him!” cried Phil, with energy.

“Can’t you find out?” asked Roger.

“I’ll try – but most likely the fellow who did it took care to cover up his tracks. Sparr didn’t know where the messages came from.”

On and on rolled the carryall, until the lights of Rockville appeared in the distance. By this time all of the students were decidedly hungry. They rolled up to the little hotel and those with horns gave a couple of shrill blasts.

This time there was a warm welcome by the host. He came out, bowing and smiling.

“Did the best I could for you, on such short notice,” he said, as they entered. “Next time, if you’ll only give me a little more time–”

“That’s all right, let’s have what you’ve got,” cried Buster. He was hungry enough to eat anything.

They were ushered into what was usually the private dining-room of the little hostelry. The table had been spread out and was tastefully decorated with paper chrysanthemums, made by the hotel man’s daughter. A parlor-lamp and several others shed light on the scene.

“This looks good!” murmured Roger.

“Wait till you see what we get to eat,” answered Sam. “It may be slim – on such short notice.”

But he was agreeably mistaken, the spread was all that could be desired. There were oysters on the half-shell, tomato soup, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, lettuce salad, olives, and also coffee, pie, and various cookies. It was served in home style, by the hotel man’s daughter and a hired girl.

“Say, this is fine!” cried Buster, smacking his lips.

“Better, maybe, than if we had stayed at the other place,” added Dave.

“Only we haven’t got the music,” said Phil. He was glad that matters had taken such a nice turn, but still angry over what had gone before.

As they had already lost so much time, the boys did not dare linger too long over the spread. Horsehair was given something to eat in another room, and then they set out on the return. Songs were sung and jokes cracked, and Shadow was permitted to tell half a dozen of his best stories. Yet, with it all, the edge had been taken off the celebration, and Phil knew this as well as anybody, and was correspondingly chagrined.

“I’ll make that man square up with me, see if I don’t,” he said to Dave, as they arrived at the school. “I’m not going to lose all that money.”

“Well, be careful of what you do, Phil,” warned our hero. “Don’t get into a fight.”

The next day the shipowner’s son sent out two sharp letters, one to Jason Sparr and the other to Professor Smuller. He stated that he was not responsible for the trip-up that had taken place, and demanded his money be returned to him, otherwise he would put the matter in the hands of the law.

To these letters came speedy replies. The musical professor said he was sorry a mistake had been made, and he returned the amount paid to him, and he further stated that if he could discover who had played the trick he would make that party settle up.

“That’s decent of him,” said Phil. “I am going to send him back five dollars for his trouble.” And this he did, much to Professor Smuller’s satisfaction.

The letter from Jason Sparr was entirely different. He berated Phil for the stand taken, and stated that he would pay back nothing. He added that he had learned how the crowd had gone to Rockville to dine, and said he was satisfied that it was all a trick to get patronage away from his hotel. He added that he had had trouble enough with people from Oak Hall school and he wanted no more of it.

“I guess I’ll have to sue him,” growled Phil, on showing the letter to Dave and Roger.

“I don’t think I’d bother,” answered Dave. “Put it down to Experience, and let it go at that.”

“If you sued him it would cost as much as you’d get, and more,” added the senator’s son.

“Humph! I don’t feel like swallowing it,” growled Phil. “I’ll get it out of him somehow.”

“He must have lost something – if he got ready for the spread,” said Dave.

“Oh, I don’t think he lost much. He’s a close one – to my way of thinking,” responded the shipowner’s son.

CHAPTER XVI
THE BLOWING UP OF THE BRIDGE

“Say, this is something fierce, Dave!”

“I agree with you, Roger. I don’t see how we are going to do such a long lesson.”

“Old Haskers is getting worse and worse,” growled Phil. “I think we ought to report it to Doctor Clay.”

“Just what I think,” came from Ben. “He keeps piling it on harder and harder. I think he is trying to break us.”

“Break us?” queried our hero, looking up from his book.

“Yes, make us miss entirely, you know.”

“Why should he want us to do that?” asked Roger.

“Then we wouldn’t be able to graduate this coming June.”

“Would he be mean enough to do that?” asked Dave.

“I think he would be mean enough for anything,” responded Phil. “Oh, I am not going to stand it!” he cried.

The boys had just come upstairs, after an extra hard session in their Latin class. All were aroused over the treatment received at the hands of Job Haskers. He had been harsh and dictatorial to the last degree, and several times it had looked as if there might be an outbreak.

The next day the outbreak came. Phil sprang up in class and denounced the unreasonable teacher, and Ben followed. Then Dave and Roger took a hand, and so did Buster and several others.

“Sit down! Sit down!” cried Job Haskers, growing white in the face. “Sit down, and keep quiet.”

“I won’t keep quiet,” answered the shipowner’s son. “You are treating us unfairly, Mr. Haskers, and I won’t stand for it.”

“Neither will I,” added Ben.

“Sit down, I tell you!” stormed the instructor.

But none of the students obeyed him, and in a minute more the room was in an uproar. One of the under-teachers heard it, and quickly sent for Doctor Clay.

As the master of Oak Hall strode into the classroom there was a pause. He mounted the platform and put up his hand, and soon all became quiet.

“Young gentlemen, be seated,” he said, in his strict but kindly fashion, and instantly every student sat down. Then he turned to the teacher. “Mr. Haskers, what is the trouble?” he asked.

“The trouble is that certain students will not learn their lessons,” answered Job Haskers, sourly. “I had to take them to task for it.”

“Who are those students?”

“Lawrence, Basswood, Porter, Morr, Beggs–”

“That will do for the present. Lawrence, stand up,” ordered Doctor Clay.

Phil did as requested, and the eyes of the entire class were fastened on the shipowner’s son.

“Now, Lawrence, what have you to say for yourself?” went on the doctor.

In a plain, straightforward manner, Phil told his side of the story. Several times Job Haskers wanted to interrupt him, but Doctor Clay would not permit this. Then Ben was questioned, and after that the master of the school turned to Dave.

“Is your complaint the same, Porter?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And yours, Morr?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What have you to say, Beggs?”

“The same. The lessons lately have been altogether too hard – we simply can’t get through them. We never had such long lessons before.”

“I have given them only the regular lessons,” put in Job Haskers.

“Ahem! Let us go over them and see what can be done,” responded the doctor. “If the students are willing to work we do not want to overburden them, Mr. Haskers.”

A discussion lasting over a quarter of an hour followed, and in the end the lessons were cut down, much to the satisfaction of the whole class, who felt like cheering the head of the school. The only person who was not satisfied was Job Haskers. He was invited to go out with the doctor to his private office, and came back some time later, looking anything but happy.

“I’ll wager he got a calling down!” whispered Phil to Dave. “I hope he did.”

He was right about the “calling down,” as he expressed it. The master of Oak Hall had spoken very plainly to the instructor, and given Job Haskers to understand that he must get along better with the boys in the future, and treat them with more consideration, or he would be asked to resign from the staff of the school.

Several days slipped by and during that time Dave paid close attention to his lessons. He had also a theme to write on “The Future of Our Country,” and he devoted considerable time to this, hoping it would receive at least honorable mention, even if it did not win the prize offered for the best production.

“Come on down to town!” cried Roger, one afternoon, as he rushed in, “Big excitement on! Going to blow the railroad up!”

“Blow the railroad up?” queried our hero. “What sort of a joke is this, Roger?”

“No joke, at all. You know the old stone bridge over the creek?”

“Sure.”

“Well, the railroad wants to get rid of it and do it quickly, so they can build another, so the contractors are going to blow the old bridge up with dynamite at half-past four o’clock.”

“Let’s go!” burst out Phil. “It will be a great sight – to see that old bridge go up.”

“Right you are!” cried Ben.

All the boys were enthusiastic, and in the end fully fifty students got permission to go down to Oakdale to see the old stone bridge destroyed.

“None of you must go very close,” warned Doctor Clay, “for dynamite is powerful stuff – eight times more powerful than gunpowder.”

“We’ll keep away, don’t fear about that,” answered several.

“Dynamite isn’t to be fooled with,” added Dave.

“Say, that puts me in mind of a story!” cried Shadow. “A Dutch laborer working on the railroad was much annoyed by the other laborers coming along and knocking his stiff old derby hat over his eyes. At last he got good and mad and when he saw a chance, he stole a stick of dynamite from the shanty where it was kept. He stuck the dynamite in his hat and then went around to the other laborers. ‘Now, chust hit dot hat vonce again of you dare!’ he said.”

“And nobody dared,” added Roger, as a general laugh went up.

“I once saw a fellow take a stick of dynamite and burn it like a torch,” remarked Ben. “It gave me a cold chill to see him do it.”

“And it didn’t explode?” queried Roger.

“No. But I heard afterwards that if he had struck it ever so lightly, it might have blown us all as high as a kite.”

“It sure is great stuff,” remarked Phil. “Say,” he went on suddenly, “I wish they were going to blow up old Sparr’s hotel instead of the bridge.”

“So do I,” added Ben. “He’s about as mean as they make ’em.”

“That man ought certainly to have something done to him,” was Roger’s comment.

“Well, he won’t make a success of his hotel if he treats everybody as he treated Phil,” said Dave.

“He doesn’t deserve any success,” growled the shipowner’s son.

When the students arrived in the vicinity of the old bridge they found a large crowd assembled, including many acquaintances from Rockville Military Academy, and people from the town. Red flags had been placed around, and nobody was allowed to get very close to the old structure.

“There is where they have the dynamite stored,” said Phil, pointing to a shanty not far away. “See the sign?”

“That’s a good spot to steer clear of,” returned Dave, with a grin.

“Oh, I’m not afraid of the stuff,” answered the shipowner’s son.

In the crowd of men and boys the students became more or less separated. There was a great thrill when the word was passed that everything was in readiness for the blowing up of the old bridge.

“She’s going!” cried Roger to Dave.

Boom! came the dull, heavy roar, and the boys saw the stones of the old bridge flying upward in all directions. The ground shook all around them, and the water from the creek was splashed on high. A great cloud of smoke and dust filled the air. Then came silence, followed by a wild cheering from the younger element.

“Certainly a great sight,” was Dave’s comment.

“Too bad it didn’t last longer,” sighed Buster.

“It wasn’t quite as big as I thought it would be,” said Luke. “I thought some of the stones would fly about a mile high.”

“Good enough for a free exhibition,” put in Gus. “Beats fireworks all hollow.”

The boys walked down to the ruins of the old bridge and hung around for the best part of a half an hour. Then, in groups of five or six, they walked to town, to look around there before returning to Oak Hall. Dave and his chums passed Jason Sparr’s hotel. He was on the veranda and scowled at them, and Phil and some of the others scowled in return.

“Have you done anything about that Sparr matter yet, Phil?” asked one of the lads.

“No; but I will soon, you wait and see,” was the growled-out reply.

On the main street of the town some of the boys separated, to do a little shopping, and then some walked to the school, while others got in the carryall that happened to be at hand. As a consequence some of the students did not get back to Oak Hall until some time after the supper hour.

Dave was alone when he entered the dining-hall and he was surprised to see that neither Phil nor Roger was present. Ben was also absent and likewise Shadow.

“Didn’t some of them come in with you?” he asked of Buster.

“Gus and Luke did,” was the reply. “I don’t know where the others are.”

The meal was almost at an end when Phil, Ben, and Roger made their appearance. They had but little to say, but Dave could see that something was wrong.

“Had another wrangle with Jason Sparr,” explained Phil, after the meal. “He followed me to one of the stores, and I told him just what I thought of him.”

“And he threatened to have Phil arrested for defamation of character,” added Ben.

“But he didn’t dare to do it,” declared the shipowner’s son.

“Better let him alone,” advised Dave. “You’ll gain nothing by keeping in hot water over it, Phil.”

That night all of the boys had to study hard, and consequently they retired to their dormitories early. The only exception was Polly Vane, who had to go to Oakdale to meet a relative who would stop off but who was going away again on the midnight train.

The boys studied until ten o’clock and then retired. Dave was completely tired out and his head had hardly touched the pillow when he was sound asleep.

He was awakened about two hours later by the sounds of excited talking. He opened his eyes to behold Polly Vane standing in the dormitory fully dressed, while Phil was sitting on the edge of the bed, and Ben and Roger and some others were just rousing up.

“What’s going on?” Dave asked, sleepily.

“A whole lot, if what Polly says is true,” answered the shipowner’s son.

“But it is true, upon my word!” cried the girlish student. “I heard the explosion myself.”

“What explosion?” asked several.

“An explosion in Oakdale, to-night,” answered Polly. “Somebody tried to dynamite Jason Sparr’s hotel!”