The Rover Boys Down East: or, The Struggle for the Stanhope Fortune. Stratemeyer Edward
to collect around the instructor and those who had set off the fireworks.
“This is an outrage!” fumed Professor Sharp. “An outrage! I’ll have the law on you for it!” And he glared savagely at Tom and Sam.
“I don’t see how you can blame us, sir,” answered Tom, stoutly. “We were just setting off the fireworks when you ran right into the midst of them.”
“Nonsense! nonsense! You did it on purpose!”
“You certainly ran right into the things, just as we had lit them,” said Sam. “I don’t see how you can blame us for that.”
“You’ll see! I shall report to Doctor Wallington at once!” stormed Asa Sharp, and hurried off with his face drawn down in sour determination.
“Phew! I guess we are in hot water, Tom!” whispered Sam.
“I don’t see how he can blame us, Sam.”
“Well, in one way, we had no right to set off the fireworks.”
“Indeed! And why not, on the last day of the term, I’d like to know? The doctor saw us, and he didn’t say anything about stopping.”
“I really think it was Professor Sharp’s fault,” said Allen Charter, who had been standing near. “He certainly ran right into the midst of the lighted fireworks. I saw him do it.”
“Will you say a word for us, Charter, if we are reported to the Head?” asked Tom.
“Certainly.”
“And so will I,” added Stanley.
“And I – if you won’t make me carry that horrid broom any longer,” lisped William Philander Tubbs.
“Say, I guess I’m as much to blame as anybody!” came from Spud, who had followed Asa Sharp from the college building. And then he told of what had happened between himself, Filbury and the instructor.
“I doubt if you hear any more about it,” said Charter. And he was practically right. The subject was barely mentioned by Doctor Wallington, and neither Tom nor Sam were censured for what had occurred. And that was fair, for the Rover boys had really not been to blame.
Later in the evening the college boys had something of a feast. A number had “chipped in” and bought some soda water, ginger ale, ice-cream and cake in Ashton, and the improvised feast was held in the boathouse, which was strung with lanterns. Several of the students made speeches, others sang, and Songbird was called on to recite an original poem, a request that pleased him greatly.
“Say, boys, Brill is a great place after all!” remarked Dick, when he and his brothers were retiring for the night “At first I thought I shouldn’t like it quite as well as dear old Putnam Hall, but I am gradually changing my mind.”
“This place grows on one,” returned Tom. “I suppose by the time we finish up here we’ll hate to leave, just as we hated to leave old Putnam.”
“Well, we won’t be college boys so very long,” remarked Sam. “Almost before you know it, we’ll be men and out in the world of business.”
“And settled down, maybe, with a family of children to support,” added Tom, with a grin.
After the strenuous times of the evening before, the Rovers were glad to take it easy on Tuesday. They finished the last of their packing and Tom played a last joke on William Philander Tubbs by placing in the trunk of the fastidious student a pair of old overalls and three old farm hats found in the barn of Brill. They were hidden in the middle of the dude’s things, and he locked up the trunk without discovering them.
“I hope he unpacks that trunk when the ladies are around,” said Tom. “Then he can show ’em how he used to play farm hand, and wear three big straw hats at a time.”
“It’s too bad to part!” sighed Songbird. “Wish we were all going on another treasure hunt!” And then he commenced to warble softly:
“I love to sail the briny deep!
The briny deep for me!
I love to watch the sunlit waves
That brighten up the sea!
I love to listen to the wind
That fills the snowy sails!
I love to roam around the deck – ”
“And eat the fishes’ tails!”
interrupted Tom. And then he went on:
“I love to swim upon the sand,
And dance upon the brine,
And write my name in salty waves,
And hope for dinner time
To come, so I can eat my fill
Of sea-foam snaps and cream;
And stand upon the quarter-deck
A halfback of the team!”
“Humph! do you call that poetry?” snorted Songbird. “It sounds as much like it as a dog’s bark sounds like a hymn!”
“Well, it would be a ‘him’ if he was a gentleman dog!” retorted Tom, and then Songbird turned away in momentary disgust. But soon his good humor returned and Tom and the others allowed him to “spout poetry” to his heart’s content.
It had been arranged that the Rovers, Dora, and the Laning girls should meet at the Ashton depot, and it is needless to say that the three boys were on time. They were alone, for Songbird and Stanley and some of their other chums were going to take different trains.
“Don’t forget to let me hear from you this summer!” said Songbird, on parting.
“Oh, we’ll be sure to write,” answered Dick. “Come and see me – if you get anywhere near my home,” said Stanley.
“We’ll remember that,” returned Tom.
The boys were taken to Ashton depot in an automobile belonging to the college. Their trunks and dress-suit cases had preceded them, and as soon as they arrived they had their baggage checked straight through to Oak Run.
“I see the girls’ trunks,” announced Sam, who had been looking the pile of baggage over. “We could get them checked, too, if we had their tickets.”
“Wonder where the girls are?” came from Tom, as he looked at his watch.
“How much time, Tom?”
“Ten minutes yet – and this train will most likely be late.”
Rather impatiently the Rover boys walked up and down the platform. Presently they saw one of the Hope carryalls coming and went to meet it.
“They aren’t in that,” cried Sam, disappointedly.
“Another carriage coming from Hope?” queried Tom, of the carryall driver.
“Two of ’em,” was the reply.
The second carriage arrived a minute later. It contained six girls and among them was Grace.
“Dora and Nellie are in the last carriage,” announced the younger Laning girl. “I came on ahead to get the trunks and bags checked.”
“We’ll do that,” answered Sam promptly. “Got the railroad tickets?”
“Yes, here they are,” and Grace handed the tickets over.
It took several minutes to check the baggage, for the agent was busy, and all of the Rovers gave a hand in shifting the heavy trunks out to a place close to the tracks. Then Dick looked at his watch.
“Time for the train now,” he announced. “Wonder why that carriage doesn’t get here?”
“Dick is getting nervous,” said Sam, with a wink.
“Oh, you are all right – with Grace here,” retorted his brother.
Tom had gone up to a bend of the road to take a look. Now he came