Dave Porter in the South Seas: or, The Strange Cruise of the Stormy Petrel. Stratemeyer Edward
loftily. "Directly after supper, report to me in classroom 7," and he passed on.
"We are in for it now," grumbled Phil. "It's a shame! It wasn't our fault that the oarlock broke."
"Wonder what he will make us do?" came from the senator's son.
"Something not very pleasant," answered Dave. He had encountered the second assistant many times before and knew the harsh instructor well.
They were soon in their seats at the table. Some of the other students looked at them inquiringly, but nothing was said. Not far from Dave sat Gus Plum and Nat Poole, and both favored the poor boy with a scowl, to which Dave paid no attention.
The meal finished, Dave, Phil, and the senator's son brushed up a bit, and then hurried to classroom 7, located in an angle of the building. They were soon joined by Job Haskers.
"The three of you may remain here and each write the word 'Oarlock' two hundred times," said the second assistant. "As soon as all of you have finished, ring the bell, and I will come and inspect the work. It must be neatly done, or I shall make you do it over again." And then he left them to themselves, going out and closing the door tightly after him.
CHAPTER IV
A PLOT TO "SQUARE UP"
"Phew! but this is a real picnic!" came softly from Phil. "He's as kind as they make 'em, isn't he?"
"It's a jolly shame," grumbled the senator's son. "To make us stay in this stuffy classroom on such a fine evening as this."
"I am glad I finished with my lessons," was Dave's comment. "But I am sorry for you two. But, as there is no help for it, we might as well get to work. The sooner begun, the sooner done, you know." And he began to write away vigorously on one of the pads the teacher had pointed out to them.
"I wish old Haskers had to write it himself," growled Roger, as he, too, went at the task. "Oh, but isn't he the mean one! I don't see why the doctor keeps him."
"He's smart, that's why," answered Phil. "I wish we could get square for this. I'm sure Doctor Clay would have excused us, had he known the facts. I've a good mind to go to him about it."
"Don't you do it, Phil," cried Dave. "It's not worth it. Get to work – and we'll think about squaring up afterwards."
In a minute more all three of the boys were writing as rapidly as their fingers could travel over the paper. Roger was the best penman of the three and finished several minutes before the others. He began to walk up and down the room, whistling softly to himself.
"Yes, I go in for squaring up with old Haskers," he said, rather loudly. "He's about as mean – " And then he stopped short, as the door swung open and the second assistant appeared.
"Huh!" he snorted. "Were you alluding to me, Master Morr?" he demanded.
Roger stammered, and his face turned red.
"Her – here are the words," he stammered.
"Two hundred, eh? Well, you may write a hundred more, and after this be careful of what you say." And then Job Haskers turned to Dave and Phil. "That is all right, you two can go."
"Can I stay with Roger?" asked Dave.
"No, I shall remain here myself," was the cold answer, and then Dave and Phil had to leave.
"I'll wager Roger feels like hugging him," was Phil's comment. "He will want to get square now, sure."
The two boys went out on the campus for awhile and then up to their dormitory, where they found a small crowd assembled, some talking, and a few studying. The door to the adjoining dormitory was open, and there Luke Watson was playing on a banjo, while another student was singing a negro song in a subdued voice.
"I say, Dave, will you explain something to me?" said a voice from a corner. The question came from Chip Macklin, Gus Plum's former toady. The small boy was working over a sheet of algebra sums.
"Certainly," said Dave, readily, and sat down by the other's side. "Now, what is it? Oh, I see. I got twisted on that myself once. This is the proper equation, and you can reduce it this way," and he was soon deep in the problem, with Chip looking on admiringly. When the problem had been worked out and explained in detail, the small boy was very grateful.
"And, Dave," he went on, in a low tone, "I – I want to tell you something. Be on your guard against Plum and Nat Poole."
"Why?"
"Because they are plotting mischief. I heard them talking in the gym. I don't know what it is about, but they are surely up to something."
"I'll remember, Chip, and much obliged," answered Dave, and then he turned to the other boys, leaving the small youth to finish his examples.
"Hello, where have you been?" came from stout and lazy Buster Beggs. He was sprawled out on the end of a couch. "I noticed you didn't get to supper till late, and went right off, directly you had finished."
"Had a special session with Haskers," answered Dave. "He wants me to improve my handwriting."
There was a smile at this, for all the boys knew what it meant.
"Oh, that fellow is a big peach, he is!" came from Sam Day, who sat in one of the windows. "Yesterday, he made me stay in just because I asked Tolliver for a lead pencil."
"He was mad because Polly Vane caught him in an error in grammar," added another youth. "Didn't you, Polly?" he added, addressing a rather girlish-looking boy who sat near Chip Macklin.
"I did," was the soft answer. "It was rather a complicated sentence, but perfectly clear to me," explained the boy.
"I don't wonder, for Polly fairly lives on grammar and language," put in Phil. "I don't believe anybody could trip him up," and this compliment made Bertram Vane blush like a girl. He was in reality one of the best scholars in the academy.
"Which puts me in mind of a story," came from one of the cots. "An – "
"Hello, are you awake, Shadow?" cried Sam Day. "I thought you were snoozing."
"So I was, but I am slept out, and feel better now. As I was saying, an old farmer and a college professor went out rowing together. Says the college professor, 'Can you do sums in algebra?' 'No,' answers the farmer. 'Then you have missed a great opportunity,' says the professor. Just then the boat struck a rock and went over. 'Save me!' yells the professor. 'Can't you swim?' asked the farmer. 'No.' 'Then you have lost the chance of your life!' says the farmer, and strikes out and leaves the professor to take care of himself."
"Two hundredth time!" came in a solemn voice from the doorway to the next room.
"Wha – what do you mean? I never told any story two hundred times," cried Shadow Hamilton. "And that puts me in mind – "
"Shadow, if you tell another as bad as that, I'll heave you out of the window," came from Sam Day. "That has moss on it three inches th – "
"Oh, I know you, Lazy; you're jealous, that's all. You couldn't tell a story if you stood on your head."
"Can you, Shadow?" and then a general laugh went up, in the midst of which the door opened, and Job Haskers entered. On catching sight of the unpopular teacher, Sam Day lost no time in sliding from the window-sill to a chair.
"Boys, we cannot permit so much noise up here!" cried Job Haskers. "And that constant strumming on a banjo must be stopped. Master Day, were you sitting in the window?"
"I – er – I think I was," stammered Sam.
"You are aware that is against the rules. If you fell out, the Hall management would be held responsible. After school to-morrow you can write the words, 'Window-sill,' two hundred times. Hamilton, get up, and straighten out that cot properly. I am ashamed of you." And then the hated teacher passed on to the next dormitory.
"I told you to get out of the window," said Macklin, as soon as they were alone. "I was caught that way myself once, and so was Gus Plum."
"Lazy is going to learn how to write a little better, too," said Dave, with a grin.
At that moment Roger came in, looking thoroughly disgusted.
"Made