The Putnam Hall Cadets: or, Good Times in School and Out. Stratemeyer Edward
field
The Putnam Hall Cadets; or, Good Times in School and Out
INTRODUCTION
My Dear Boys: In bringing out this story, “The Putnam Hall Cadets,” the initial volume in the “Putnam Hall Series,” I feel it necessary to make an explanation why it is that this tale is brought out when I have already written so much concerning the doings of the students at Putnam Hall.
Ever since I presented to the boys the first volume in the “Rover Boys Series,” I have been urged by the boys – and girls, too, for the matter of that – to write something concerning the doings of the students at the Hall previous to the coming of the Rover boys on the scene. When the Rovers arrived they found a wide-awake, jolly crowd of cadets already there, some of whom had been at the academy several years. My young friends wished to know more about these, and it is for their benefit that I have instituted this new series, which will tell of many things that happened at the famous seat of learning from the time it was first opened to the present day.
Putnam Hall is an ideal boarding school for boys, located on the shore of a beautiful lake in upper New York State. The students there are bright, manly fellows, full of vigor and fun, and bound to get the best there is out of school life. There are some keen rivalries, and in the story are related the particulars of a mystery which had an unlooked-for ending.
In offering this first book of the new series I wish to thank the thousands everywhere who have written to me regarding the “Rover Boys Series.” It does my heart good to know that the tales have been so well liked. I trust sincerely that the present story meets with equal approbation.
Affectionately and sincerely yours,
July 25, 1905.
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCING SOME CADETS
“Hurrah, Jack, I’ve got news! To-morrow we are going to ballot for officers!”
“I’m glad to hear that,” answered Jack Ruddy, as he threw down the algebra he had been studying. “I was almost afraid we weren’t going to have officers this term.”
“I suppose Captain Putnam wanted to find out if there was any military material here before he let us fellows take charge,” went on Pepper Ditmore, as he swung himself up on a corner of the dormitory table. “Tell you what, Jack, it’s a great thing to organize a school like this, and get everything in working order, all in six weeks.”
“Do you think you are organized, Pep?” queried Jack Ruddy, with a twinkle in his eyes.
“I’m organized about as much as I’ll ever be,” returned Pepper Ditmore. “You can’t expect a fellow like me to settle down and be as quiet as a lamb, can you?”
“No, you’re more like a jumping-jack. The fellows don’t call you the Imp for nothing.”
“It’s a base slander,” returned Pepper Ditmore, with an injured air. “I’m as meek, sometimes – ”
“When you are asleep.”
“As a – a – ”
“Circus clown. By the way, have they found out yet who mixed the salt and sugar last Saturday?”
“Can’t say as they have.”
“And who put that little bulldog in Josiah Crabtree’s bedroom in the dark?”
“They haven’t asked me about it,” and now Pepper Ditmore began to grin.
“Then let me congratulate you on your escape,” and Jack Ruddy smiled broadly.
“Let’s change the subject, Jack. Don’t you want to be an officer of the Putnam Hall Cadet Corps? I should think that would just suit you. Your father was an army officer.”
“It would suit me first-rate. But the fellows don’t know much about me. Most of them are strangers to me.”
“Well, they are mostly strangers to each other. If you want to become an officer, say the word and I’ll do the electioneering for you.”
“Don’t you want to be an officer yourself?”
At this question Pepper Ditmore gave a merry laugh.
“I’d make a fine-looking officer, wouldn’t I?” he returned. “No, I’ll remain a high private in the rear rank – and take my sport in some other way.”
“And you expect me to be an officer over you, Pep? How in the world will I manage you?”
“By not trying, Jack. But come, are you going to be an officer or not? As a battalion, we are to have a major, two captains, two first lieutenants, two second lieutenants, and a lot of sergeants and corporals. I want to see you a captain at least.”
“That’s kind.”
“I’d rather see you an officer than that Dan Baxter. Do you know, Jack, I don’t like that chap at all.”
“No more do I. He is very overbearing. I heard him bossing some of the little fellows around in regular slave-driver style.”
“Well, he shan’t boss me around.”
“Oh, it’s not likely he’ll bother the big boys,” came from Jack Ruddy, as he arose from his chair and stretched himself. “Those chaps usually make the little fellows toady to them. What time is it?”
“Just five o’clock.”
“Then come on down to the lake and have a row before supper.”
At that moment something soft, thrown up through the open dormitory window, struck Jack Ruddy on the shirt bosom. It was a lump of mud, and it left quite a mark behind.
“Hi, there, who threw that?” he cried, angrily, as he rushed for the window. He was just in time to see a lank youth diving out of sight behind some bushes.
“I know that lad,” came from Pepper Ditmore. “His name is John Fenwick, but they call him Mumps.”
“I’ll Mumps him!” retorted Jack Ruddy. “Come on!” And he rushed out of the dormitory, and down the broad stairway three steps at a time. He was just near the bottom when he passed a tall and rather sour-looking teacher, who was coming up.
“Master Ruddy, not so fast – ” began the teacher, when of a sudden Pepper Ditmore struck the man on the shoulder, hurling him flat on his back at the foot of the stairs.
“Oh, excuse me, Mr. Crabtree!” burst out the cadet. “I – er – I didn’t mean to run into you!”
“Yo – you imp!” spluttered Josiah Crabtree. “What do you mean by tearing downstairs like a – a cyclone?”
“We’re after a fellow who threw some mud up into our room,” explained Jack Ruddy.
“I didn’t see you coming,” added Pepper. “Very sorry – it shan’t occur again.”
“This jumping downstairs has got to be stopped!” fumed Josiah Crabtree. “I shall make an example of you, Ditmore. Go back to your classroom and write this sentence one hundred times: ‘It is best to walk with care.’”
“Have I got to go back now?” cried Pepper.
“At once.”
“It isn’t fair, Mr. Crabtree. I didn’t mean to run into you; really, I didn’t.”
“Stop! I want no back talk. To the classroom instantly.”
“Mr. Crabtree,” put in Jack Ruddy, “please – ”
“Silence, Master Ruddy, or I shall send you, too.”
“Catch that boy if you can, Jack,” said Pepper, and walked slowly towards his classroom. Josiah Crabtree saw him enter, and saw Jack Ruddy leave the building, and then continued on his way upstairs.
Jack Ruddy and Pepper Ditmore were chums. Both hailed from the western part of New York State, and they had arrived at Putnam Hall about a month before this tale opens. Jack was a few months older than Pepper, but the youths were of the same size and weight. Jack was of a serious turn and studious, while Pepper was rightly called the Imp, on account of his fun-loving disposition.
At the time of which I write, Putnam Hall was a