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CHAPTER XVII
A SERIOUS ACCUSATION

Instantly there was great excitement in the dormitory, and all of the students crowded around Polly, to learn what he might have to say.

“It was this way, don’t you know,” said the scholarly youth. “I went to Oakdale to see my uncle, who stopped off on his trip from Portland to St. Louis. He wanted to ask me about some family matters, and he didn’t have time to come to the Hall. I went down in the buggy–”

“Oh, never mind that, Polly, tell about the explosion,” interrupted Roger.

“Well, I had just seen my uncle to the midnight train and was getting into the buggy to come back when I heard a low boom! coming from the direction of Sparr’s hotel. The station-master and I were the only people around, and I asked him what the noise meant, but he said he didn’t know. Then he jumped into the buggy with me to find out. We drove to the hotel, and there was excitement enough, I can tell you. The girls and women folks were screaming wildly and Mr. Sparr and some men were running around, not knowing what to do. Soon a crowd began to collect, and then we found out that a wing of the building – where the dining-room is – had been blown up. Some men from the railroad said it had been done by dynamite – the kind used for blowing up that old bridge.”

“Was anybody hurt?” asked Dave.

“Nobody but an old man who was sleeping in the house next to the addition. He got so scared he jumped from an upper window and sprained his ankle. Oh, that dining-room is a sight, I can tell you! One end is completely gone – the wall away from the main house – and all the tables and chairs and ornaments smashed! And the roof is full of holes!”

“How was it done?” questioned Gus.

“The dynamite was placed at the side of the dining-room foundation, according to the railroad men, and it was set off by some sort of clockwork,” answered Polly.

“And who did it?” asked Shadow.

“They don’t know, yet. But Sparr suspects Phil. That is why I woke him up as soon as I came in,” continued the girlish student.

“Suspects me!” exclaimed the shipowner’s son.

“Yes. He says you are the only one who would do such a thing – you and the crowd who have been backing you up.”

“Well, I never!”

“Maybe he means me, too,” murmured Ben.

“He does, and all the others in the crowd, too. He thinks it’s a plot to get square because he wouldn’t give Phil his dinner money back.”

“I had nothing to do with it,” declared Phil, stoutly.

“Nor I,” added Ben.

“Well, I am sure I wasn’t in it,” said Dave. “I didn’t dream of such a thing.”

“Nor did I,” added Roger and some others.

The news soon spread through several dormitories, and the boys discussed the startling happening in whispers. Phil was greatly disturbed.

“I didn’t do it, but I know he’ll try to fasten it on me,” he told Dave. He did not add that he had written to his father about the affair of the feast and his parent had sent a warning letter back, ordering his son to have nothing more to do with Jason Sparr.

The next morning the news was all over the school. Nat Poole heard of it, and he and some of his cronies declared it as their opinion that Phil and some others were to blame. This brought on a fistic encounter between Ben and the money-lender’s son, and the latter got a black eye in consequence.

“You sha’n’t say I did it – or had anything to do with it,” said Ben, when Nat backed away, having had enough of the battle.

“Humph! just wait till the law has its say!” retorted Nat. “Then maybe you’ll get what is coming to you!”

Some of the boys wanted to go to town – to see the damaged hotel – but Doctor Clay would not permit this. In the meantime the wreckage was being cleared away, and the authorities and Jason Sparr were doing their best to locate the author or authors of the crime.

Then came a great surprise, in the shape of a letter delivered in a mysterious way to the hotel-keeper. He was seated in the hotel office in the evening, talking to one of the town constables, when a missive was hurled at him through an open window. He dodged at first, fearing more dynamite, but when he saw it was only a letter, he picked it up and turned it over. It was addressed to him and marked “Private and Personal.”

“Wonder what this is?” he mused, and walked over to the light to read the letter. It was written on a single sheet of paper, in lead pencil, and evidently in a disguised hand. It contained but a few lines, as follows:

“If you want to catch the fellows who blew up your hotel have these boys of Oak Hall school arrested at once, Philip Lawrence, Benj. Basswood, David Porter, Roger Morr, and Joseph Beggs. They were together when it was done, and one or more of them surely did it.

“One Who Knows.”

The hotel-keeper read this letter several times and then stuffed it into his pocket. Then he went into the next room and drew from a drawer several things wrapped up in a newspaper.

“I am going down to see the squire,” he said, to the constable. “You can come along, if you want to.”

“What was in the letter?”

“The names of the rascals who blew up my hotel.”

“What! You don’t mean it, Jason!”

“Yes, I do.”

“Who sent the letter?”

“That’s a secret. But come on, we’ll talk it over with Squire Thompson. Ain’t no time to waste.” And then the hotel man went off to interview the leading legal light of the town.

The conference at the squire’s office lasted the best part of two hours. At this Jason Sparr produced the contents of the package, several things picked up near the hotel at the time of the explosion – a tan glove, somewhat worn, two iron rings, an empty paper box marked, “L.” in one corner, a whip handle, and a clock-like contrivance which had been used to set off the dynamite. He told of his trouble with Phil and his chums, of the threats made, and produced the letter received so mysteriously.

“Looks kind of plain to me, Squire,” he said. “Don’t you think so?”

“It isn’t for me to say,” replied the squire, cautiously. “But if you want to swear out warrants for those boys’ arrest–”

“Ain’t I justified?”

“Sure you are,” put in the constable, who happened to be the squire’s brother-in-law. “I wouldn’t waste no time on it.” He thought he saw in this a job for himself, with some fat fees.

“If you have them arrested, you’ve got to prove your case,” said Squire Thompson, slowly. “It’s a serious business, Sparr.”

“But this letter says they are guilty.”

“Lock ’em up and make ’em confess!” broke in the constable. “Give ’em the third degree!” he added. He had read something of how city criminals were occasionally treated and he wished to air his knowledge.

“I’ll do it!” cried Jason Spar. “I’ll show ’em they can’t insult me and take away my trade and then try to blow up my hotel! I’ll have ’em all locked up! Then we can examine ’em one by one, and get ’em tangled up and make ’em confess.”

After much trouble, the warrants for the arrest of Phil, Ben, Dave, Roger, and Buster were made out. The constable wanted to serve them at once, but it was decided at the last moment to wait until the next morning, to see if any new evidence regarding the crime might be forthcoming.

The constable went home, sworn to secrecy, but he had to tell his wife and her sister of the affair, and the news got to the ears of a man who boarded with them. This fellow, who was named Andy Prime, chanced to know Dave quite well, our hero having once done him a favor. Early in the morning Prime drove past the school, and seeing Dave on the campus, hailed him.

“Come over here, I want to tell you something, Porter,” said Prime, mysteriously.

“What do you want?” asked Dave, good-naturedly.

“Ride a bit with me, will you? I don’t want nobody to hear us,” went on the man, lowering his voice.

Wondering what was coming, Dave got up on the seat of the man’s wagon and they drove to the far end of the Oak Hall grounds. There Andy Prime told of all he had learned.

“Please don’t say I told ye!” he pleaded. “It might git me in trouble. But you did me a good turn onct an’ I ain’t forgot it.”

“Thank you, Prime, I won’t tell who told me,” answered Dave.

“Thet old skinflint o’ a Sparr deserved to have his buildin’ blown up.”

“Perhaps. But we didn’t do it, I can assure you of that. If Mr. Sparr has us arrested, he’ll get in hot water,” answered our hero; and then he got out of the wagon and Andy Prime drove on.

Dave at once carried the news to those immediately concerned. All were very indignant, and some were scared.

“Say, I won’t stand for being arrested!” cried Phil, in horror. “It’s too much of a disgrace!”

“My folks would never get over it,” added Ben.

“It would just about kill my mother, if I was locked up,” came from Buster.

“Well, I’ll stand it if I have to,” said Roger. “But I’ll make that fellow suffer for it later!” he added, bitterly.

All thoughts of going to school that morning were abandoned by the five boys. They talked the situation over, and determined to go down the road and await the arrival of the constable, Andy Prime having said that Hickson would come by ten o’clock.

“This is awful!” gasped Phil, shaking his head dolefully. “Say, Dave, I can’t stand it!”

“Wait until we hear what the constable has to say.”

“He won’t say anything – he’ll just drag us to the Oakdale lockup!” put in Ben.

“I wonder what my dad will say to that, when he hears of it?” murmured Roger. “The newspapers are bound to make a spread of it. ‘Son of a U. S. Senator Jailed for Blowing Up a Hotel!’ or something like that. Oh, it makes me sick!”

Plainly the majority of the students were very nervous. The only one who kept calm was Dave, and even he was much disturbed. All walked along the road, keeping a sharp eye out for the appearance of Paul Hickson.

“Here he comes!” cried Phil, as a covered wagon came along the road, driven by the keeper of the Oakdale jail. On the front seat beside the driver were the constable and Jason Sparr.

“Hi, you boys!” shouted the constable, as the wagon came closer. “I want to see you!”

“What do you want?” demanded Dave, stepping to the front.

“We want you, for one!” cried the hotel-keeper. “Be careful, Hickson, that none of ’em get away!” he added.

“I don’t know one from tudder,” said the constable, doubtfully.

“This is just the bunch we are after, unless I am mistaken,” went on the hotel man. “That is Lawrence there, and Basswood, and this is Porter, and I think that is Morr,” and he pointed to the various students.

“Good enough. Boys, in the name of the law, I call on you to halt,” declared the constable, pompously.

“Mr. Sparr, what does this mean?” demanded Dave.

“It means that I am going to have the whole bunch of you arrested!” shouted the hotel man, harshly. “You blew up my hotel, and I can prove it! I’ve got the evidence against every one of you! I am going to have you arrested right now and sent to prison!” And he shook his fist at the boys.

“The evidence against us?” faltered Phil.

“Yes, sir, the plain, clear evidence,” went on the hotel-keeper, dramatically. “I’ve got you just where I want you. I am going to send every one of you to prison for five or ten years!”

CHAPTER XVIII
THE MEETING ON THE ROAD

There was an intense silence, following the announcement of Jason Sparr that he intended to send Dave and his chums to prison for attempting to blow up the hotel. In the meantime the hotel man and the constable got down from the seat of the covered wagon.

“I’ve got the warrants fer the arrest, boys,” said Constable Hickson, somewhat importantly.

“Mr. Sparr, I’d like a word with you,” said Dave, as calmly as he could speak under the circumstances.

“I ain’t got no more to say than I’ve said,” returned Jason Sparr, stubbornly. “You done it, and I can prove it! The constable is going to do his duty and arrest you!”

“Dave, I – I won’t stand for it!” whispered Phil, hoarsely. “It’s terrible! I – I can’t stand it!” And he began to back away.

“Hi, there! stop!” yelled the hotel man. “Stop him, Hickson! Don’t let him get away!”

“You sha’n’t arrest me for nothing!” cried the shipowner’s son, and like a flash he turned around and started off on a run.

“Come back here, Phil!” called out Dave. “Come back! You are making a mistake by running away!”

But Phil did not hear, nor did Ben and Buster, who had also taken to their heels. Roger ran a few steps, then halted, and came back to our hero’s side.

“You are right, Dave,” he said. “It’s best to face the music.”

Phil, Ben, and Buster had turned towards Oak Hall. Phil was in the lead, but the others soon caught up to him.

“Wha – what are you go – going to d – do?” panted Ben.

“I’m not going to let them arrest me!” answered Phil. “I didn’t do it, and I’m not going to jail.”

“Let us hide until we can get our folks to help us,” suggested Buster. The thought of going to a lockup filled him with dread.

“I’m going to notify my folks, too,” said Ben.

“The trouble is, I don’t know where my folks are just now,” came from the shipowner’s son. “My father went on a trip on one of his vessels and mother is visiting relatives.”

The boys had kept on running on the road. But now, as they saw the constable after them, they turned and dashed into a side-path leading to the river.

“A motor-boat!” cried Ben, a few seconds later.

“It’s the Kingsley boat,” added Buster. “I know Tom will let us use it – he said I could do it once. Let us go across in it.”

All leaped on board, and Ben started up the engine while Buster took the wheel. There came a put! put! as the fly-wheel was turned over, and the little craft, which belonged to a boy living on the river-bank, headed out into the Leming River.

In the meantime, while Constable Hickson was running after the fugitives, Jason Sparr and the driver of the covered wagon confronted Dave and Roger.

“Don’t you try to run!” bawled the hotel-keeper.

“I’m armed,” added the keeper of the town lockup, suggestively.

“I don’t intend to run, Mr. Sparr,” answered Dave.

“Why should we run, since we have done nothing wrong?” added the senator’s son. He tried to follow Dave’s example and remain calm, but he was tremendously disturbed.

“Did those three fellows do it alone?” queried the hotel man, eagerly. “If they did, you had better confess to it, and clear yourselves.”

“None of us are guilty,” answered Dave.

“I know better.”

“You do not. Since we didn’t do it, Mr. Sparr, I don’t see how you can prove that we did, – unless you have manufactured some evidence against us,” went on our hero, pointedly, a new idea coming into his head.

“I ain’t manufactured no evidence!” bawled Jason Sparr. “Didn’t that young rascal of a Lawrence say he’d get square with me, and didn’t all of you say the same? Wasn’t you down to the blowing up of the bridge, right where they had all that dynamite stored? Wasn’t some of the dynamite sticks stolen? Didn’t you fellows come right by the hotel afterwards? Wasn’t the blowing up done by clockwork, made to go off hours after it was set? You can’t tell me! You are guilty. Besides, I got other evidence – I got a letter,” added the hotel-keeper, shrewdly.

“A letter? About us?”

Jason Sparr nodded.

“Saying we were guilty?”

“Yes.”

“Who wrote it?”

“Never mind that. You’re guilty, and you know it. Just wait till Hickson comes back with them others and I’ll show you a thing or two,” continued the hotel man, harshly.

“Mr. Sparr, I said I wanted to talk to you, and I do want to,” said Dave, after a pause. “You will find it to your advantage to listen to me. You have got this whole thing settled in your own mind, but you are dead wrong. You intend to have us locked up for something we didn’t do. To have us locked up will blacken our characters and blacken the reputation of Oak Hall. My folks are respectable people, and so are the folks of the other boys. Do you think they will stand for this sort of thing? And do you think Doctor Clay will stand for it? If you do, you are greatly mistaken. If you have us arrested on this charge, which is absolutely false, I’ll get my folks to sue you for false imprisonment and defamation of character, and I know the other fellows will do the same. And you can rest assured that the charges against you will be pushed to the limits of the law.”

At this plain talk Jason Sparr’s jaw dropped. Several times he was on the point of interrupting, but thought better of it.

“Well, now – er–” he stammered when Dave had finished.

“My father is a United States senator,” said Roger. “You don’t suppose he will let a matter like this pass unnoticed? If you do anything to besmirch our family name, you’ll take the consequences.”

“Your father is a United States senator?” faltered Jason Sparr.

“He is, and Dave’s father is a rich man, and so is Phil Lawrence’s father. Of course, our money has nothing to do with it, excepting that it will enable us to stand up for our rights in the courts, and get able lawyers to defend us. We are innocent of all wrongdoing. If anybody is in the wrong it is you, for you cheated Phil Lawrence out of the money he advanced to you for that spread we were to have at your hotel.”

“Cheated him!” cried the hotel-keeper.

“That is what it amounted to, for you took his money and gave him nothing in return.”

“He called the spread off–”

“He did not, and we can prove it,” said Dave, following up what he thought looked like an advantage. “Why, if he wanted to do it, Phil could have you locked up for swindling.”

“What, me? Locked up?” cried the hotel man.

“Certainly. Why not? It’s as reasonable as your charge against us – more reasonable, in fact, for you kept his money and gave him nothing in return,” went on our hero, warmly.

“Well, now what do you know about that?” grumbled Jason Sparr, turning to the driver of the covered wagon. But the lockup man merely shrugged his shoulders. Privately he was of the opinion that the boys were not such rascals as had been pictured.

“If those fellows wasn’t guilty, why did they run away?” continued Jason Sparr, after an awkward pause.

“Because you scared them,” responded Roger. “I would have run away myself if it hadn’t been for Dave.”

“Humph!”

All looked along the road. Constable Hickson had disappeared, having followed the runaways down to the river. Presently he came back, out of breath from his exertions.

“Did you get ’em?” queried the hotel-keeper, eagerly.

“No, they got away in a motor-boat.”

“A motor-boat!” repeated Dave and Roger, and looked at each other in astonishment.

“Yes, went up the river out of sight,” said Paul Hickson. “Too bad! But we’ve got two of ’em, anyway,” he added, looking at our hero and the senator’s son.

“I wanted Lawrence more than I did the others,” grumbled Jason Sparr. He was doing some deep thinking and his face showed that he was much disturbed.

“Mr. Sparr, just remember what I said,” remarked Dave, pointedly. “If you go ahead, take my word for it, it will cost you dear.”

“Say, Hickson, we’ll drop this matter for the present,” said the hotel-keeper, in a low tone.

“Drop it?” ejaculated the constable. “Ain’t you goin’ to have these two took up?”

“Not just now. I – er – I want to get more evidence first, if I can. We can get them any time we want them.”

“But who is going to pay me for my trouble? I’ve got them warrants to serve right in my pocket, and–”

“I’ll fix that up with you,” answered the hotel man, in a whisper. “Come on. We can come back later.” And then the hotel man said something to the driver of the wagon. The latter merely nodded and got back to his seat. Jason Sparr climbed up beside him, and the constable slowly followed.

“I don’t understand–” went on the constable; but Jason Sparr merely pinched his arm, and he stopped short.

“Just remember, this ain’t settled yet!” cried the hotel-keeper, to Dave and Roger. “I’m going to look into it a bit deeper before I make a move, that’s all. I know some of you done it, and I’ll have you in prison for it yet, see if I don’t!” And he shook his head grimly; and then the covered wagon was turned around, and the three men drove off in the direction of Oakdale.

“Oh, Dave, do you think they’ll come back?” cried Roger, when the men were out of hearing.

“There is no telling what they will do, Roger. But you can make up your mind to one thing – Sparr won’t come back until he has more evidence than he has at present.”

“But how can he get evidence? Surely you don’t think Phil and the others guilty, even if they did run away.”

“No, I think Phil and the others are as innocent as we are. But I can’t understand some things. Somebody used that dynamite and somebody wrote a letter to Sparr about us. The question is, Who was it?”

“Could it be Nat Poole?”

“I don’t think Nat would be bad enough to try to blow up a hotel.”

“It certainly was an awful thing to do.” Roger drew a long breath. “What shall we do now, go back to school?”

“We might as well. If we don’t, old Haskers will be after us again.”

“Do you think Phil and the others will come back?”

“Why not? As soon as they have time to think it over they’ll realize it is best to face the music,” answered Dave.

He and Roger returned to Oak Hall. They had missed one class, but fortunately that was one presided over by Mr. Dale, and he readily excused them when they said they had had some personal matters of importance to attend to, and would explain later.

“It is bound to come out, sooner or later,” said Dave to his chum. “So we might as well take Doctor Clay and Mr. Dale into our confidence.”

“I suppose you are right,” answered the senator’s son. Nevertheless, he heaved a deep sigh, as he thought of what might be the outcome of the trouble. What if, after all, Jason Sparr should concoct some sort of evidence against them and send them all to prison?