The Putnam Hall Rivals. Stratemeyer Edward
am sorry this happened,” observed Jack, as he and Pepper ran for the mess-hall. “This will make Baxter more down on us than ever.”
“I couldn’t help it, Jack. I did what I could to steer clear of the bushes. I didn’t want to scratch my face, and I didn’t know he was back there out of sight.”
When Jack and Pepper reached the Hall they were met by Josiah Crabtree, who viewed them sternly.
“What is the meaning of this, Major Ruddy?” demanded the first assistant teacher. “You are setting a bad example for those under you.”
“We had a little trouble on the ice,” answered Jack. “Pepper fell down and knocked over Dan Baxter’s camera, and we had to straighten matters out.”
“Humph! See that you are not late again,” muttered the teacher, and passed on.
“Phew! we got off easily that time,” exclaimed Pepper, in a low tone. “He must have something else to attend to,” and in this surmise the youth was correct.
A drum was already rolling, and the boys were hurrying to the parade ground. Jack dashed in and got his sword, and Pepper got his gun, and both hurried to the parade ground.
“Battalion, attention!” commanded the youthful major, and soon the cadets were in line. Then came a short drill, followed by the order to march. The drums sounded out, the fifes struck up a lively air, and around the parade ground went the cadets, and at last marched into the mess-hall, where they all sat down to a plain but substantial supper.
During the meal Pepper and Jack saw Dan Baxter scowl at them, and both felt that the bully “had it in for them.”
“He is bound to get square,” said Jack. “Pep, we must keep our eyes peeled.”
After supper the boys had an hour off. Some spent the time in the library reading, while others drifted into the gymnasium.
Jack had some studies to attend to, and went to an open classroom. Pepper walked to the gymnasium, accompanied by Andy Snow.
Both boys were soon exercising on the rings, and Andy showed what he could do on a turning bar, – doing the “giant swing” and other difficult feats.
While they were exercising, Mumps, the toady to Dan Baxter, came in, followed by a new student named Reff Ritter.
Reff Ritter was a youth who had a very high opinion of himself. His parents were fairly well off and the boy had traveled a good deal in foreign countries. Reff had an idea that he could do almost anything, and he loved to boast of his ability and also to boast of where he had been and what he had seen. A few of the boys, including Mumps, toadied to him, but the majority voted the newcomer “a pill.” He had tried to become friendly with Jack and Pepper, but both had tired of his everlasting boastings.
“Are you a gymnast?” asked Mumps, as he and Reff Ritter came to a halt close to where Andy and Pepper were practicing.
“Oh, yes, certainly!” exclaimed Ritter, in a loud voice. “I took some lessons in New York and I finished up while I was in London and Berlin. A German instructor – one of the Turn-verein men – taught me a lot of tricks.”
“What do you think of that?” went on Mumps, as Andy made a swing on the rings.
“Fair, only fair,” drawled Reff Ritter. “Not at all graceful. Now when I was stopping at Madrid, there was a Spaniard there who showed me how to do a turn like that, and it was perfection, I can assure you.”
Andy heard the remark, and it made his ears tingle. He gave a swing and landed on the floor in front of Ritter and Mumps.
“I’d like to see that Spanish swing you just mentioned,” he said, coldly.
“Humph! I didn’t – er – calculate to do anything in the way of gymnastics this evening,” stammered Reff Ritter.
“Maybe you are afraid to try,” went on Andy, pointedly.
“Not at all! not at all!” exclaimed the new student. “I’ll show you how to do it if you want me to.”
He took off his coat and vest and also his collar and tie. Then he leaped up on the rings and began to swing.
“Here goes!” he called out, and made the turn, while a small crowd began to gather.
“Good! That’s fine!” called out Mumps. “Now, Andy Snow, how do you like it?”
The turn had been a fairly good one. Andy smiled quietly.
“Can you make the double turn?” he called up to Reff Ritter.
“Certainly – I learned that in Berlin also,” was the answer, and the turn was made, after a good deal of an effort. Then, warming up, Reff Ritter began to show off, doing about everything he had ever learned. He did not stop until he was practically out of breath.
Taken as a whole, it was a fair exhibition of gymnastic work, and some of the boys standing around applauded.
“Have you finished?” asked Pepper.
“I have,” answered Reff Ritter. He caught his breath. “There’s a pattern for your friend to go by.”
“Thank you, but I don’t need any pattern,” answered Andy. “Here goes for another try at it!”
He went up lightly and began to perform. First he did several things which were comparatively easy. But each turn was clean-cut in itself and decidedly graceful.
“Andy certainly knows how to go at it,” remarked Joe Nelson, who was present.
“Huh! He hasn’t done anything as difficult as I did,” put in Reff Ritter.
Then Andy began to do other things, making swings and leaps that were really wonderful in one who was only an amateur. The boys applauded more and more. Then he made a leap and a twist seldom seen outside of a regular circus performance.
“Look at that!” cried Pepper, enthusiastically. “Nobody can do better!”
“Sure, an’ Andy’s the bist acrobat in the school, so he is,” said Emerald.
And the majority of those standing around agreed with the Irish cadet.
CHAPTER IV
A DOSE OF SNOW AND ICICLES
As soon as it became apparent that Andy was doing much better than he had been able to do, Reff Ritter lost interest in the exhibition going on.
“I reckon I’ve seen enough,” he drawled. “It’s cold in here anyway. I’m going back to the school,” and he shuffled off, followed by Mumps.
“Andy, you are ten times better than he is on the bar and rings,” cried Pepper.
“Sure, an’ that Ritter is a big blow, so he is!” was Hogan’s comment. “I am glad that Andy took him down.”
“I don’t think he’ll like it much,” observed Andy.
The acrobatic youth was right. Reff Ritter was very bitter at heart.
“Where are Baxter and Coulter?” he asked of Mumps, as they hurried outside.
“Went down to the old boathouse,” and Mumps winked.
“For a smoke?”
“Yes,” was the whispered answer. For, as my readers may imagine, smoking among the cadets was strictly prohibited.
“Think I’ll have a cigarette myself,” said Ritter. “Will you come along?”
Now, Mumps did not like to smoke, as it made him sick. But he did not wish to offend his new friend, and so he agreed to go along. They soon made their way to where Baxter and Coulter had taken themselves, and the toady gave a peculiar whistle.
It was answered a moment later, and Coulter appeared.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said. “All right, come in.”
They entered a section of the old boathouse that was but little used. It would have been cold, only the cadets