"Good-by to Oak Hall!"—Page 137.
CHAPTER XVI
PREPARING FOR A LONG TRIP
"Whoop! hurrah! Off we go! Good-by to Oak Hall!"
The carryall belonging to the school was moving away from the campus. It was loaded with students and behind it came two wagons, full of trunks and dress-suit cases. Back on the campus a crowd was assembled to bid the departing ones good-by.
"Write to me often!"
"Don't forget, Tom! Atlantic City, middle of August!"
"Be sure and ask him to join the team!"
"Yes, we are going to Casco Bay. Come up, if you can."
"Tell Jack Say, get off my toes, will you? Tell Jack to come up to Lake Titus, back of Malone. We'll give him a dandy"
"Toot! toot! toot! Now then, Horsehair, start 'em up, and be lively, or I'll miss that connection for Albany!"
"I'll start 'em up, all right, if you young gents will give me a show," responded the driver. "Say, Buster, don't use the whip. Give me the reins, Master Porter."
"Don't you want me to drive, Horsehair?"
"No, I want Say, you in the back, give me my hat, will you?" shouted the driver, turning around. "I ain't a-going a step till I git that hat!"
"All right, Horsehair, darling!" replied Sam Day. "I thought I'd keep it to remember you by, but if you want"
"Which puts me in mind of a story," said Shadow Hamilton. He had caught the humor of the occasion. "A lady once"
"No stories allowed," broke in Phil.
"I can't tell a story unless I speak it aloud," answered Shadow, tartly.
"Phew, what a pun!" came from Roger. "Somebody please dump him off for that."
"Hold tight, all of you!" called out the anxious driver, and with a lurch the carryall made a turn and started out of the academy grounds and along the broad highway leading to Oakdale. All of the boys shouted themselves hoarse, and horns and rattles added to the din. Such a thing as holding the students in was out of the question, and Doctor Clay and his assistants did not attempt it. The doctor and Andrew Dale smiled broadly and waved their hands, and only Job Haskers looked bored. The other teachers were busy in the building and did not show themselves.
This was the first load to leave, and another was ready to depart directly after dinner. Nearly all of the boys were in high spirits, and sang and "cut up" all the way to the town, much to the terror of Jackson Lemond, known only to the lads as Horsehair, because he carried the signs of his calling continually.
If there was one boy in the crowd particularly sober at times, it was Shadow Hamilton. Doctor Clay had communicated with his parents, and Mr. Hamilton and the master of the school had had a long conference regarding the pins and stamps that had been taken. Shadow's father had agreed to pay for the missing articles, if they could not be recovered inside of the next few months. In the meantime, a private detective was to be called in to watch the movements of Gus Plum.
At Oakdale the party split into three parts, one to go up the railroad line, another to go down, and the third to take the connection for Albany. Phil, Roger, Ben, and Dave took the same train, and managed to get seats together.
"I wish I had heard from my folks," remarked Roger. "But I think it is all right," he added, hopefully.
"Don't be too sure, Roger," said Dave. "I don't want you to be disappointed."
"I shall write to you as soon as I get home and can talk to my father," said Phil to Dave. "We'll be able to arrange everything without much trouble, I am sure."
Near the end of their journey Dave and Ben found themselves alone, Roger and Phil having said good-by at places further up the road. As they neared Crumville, the heart of the country boy beat quicker. How many things had happened since he had left that town to go to Oak Hall!
"I see the old white church steeple!" cried Ben, as they came out of a patch of timber. "Looks natural, doesn't it?"
"I feel as if I had been away a year, instead of a few months," answered Dave. He was peering anxiously out of the window. "Here we come to the station, and, yes, there is Mr. Wadsworth's automobile, and Mr. Wadsworth himself and Jessie!"
Soon the train came to a halt, and they piled out, dress-suit cases in hand, and walked over to the automobile.
"How do you do?" cried Jessie Wadsworth, a beautiful miss of thirteen, with soft eyes and golden curls. "I told papa you would be on this train."
"How do you do?" returned Dave, dropping his suit case to lift his cap and shake hands. "I hope you are well."
"Oh, I am," replied the miss, shaking back her curls. "How do you do, Ben?" And then there was more handshaking.
Both of the boys were invited to enter the automobile, and did so, and in a few minutes Ben found himself at his own door. Then the machine was turned toward the Wadsworth mansion.
"I like to go riding with papa," explained Jessie. "I never go out with our man, though. Not sinceyou know!" and she turned a pair of grateful eyes upon Dave that made the boy color up.
"The machine appears to be perfectly safe, since we have had it repaired," put in Mr. Wadsworth. "But our man is better with the horses."
At the mansion Mrs. Wadsworth, an aristocratic but motherly lady, came out to greet Dave, followed by Caspar Potts, whose face was wreathed in smiles. All told, it was a homecoming that would have warmed the heart of any lad, and it made Dave forget completely that he was a "poorhouse nobody."
"You must tell me all about everything," said Jessie, after a somewhat elaborate supper had been served. "I don't want to miss a single thing!"
"Seems to me you are cutting out a big job for Dave," laughed her father.
"Well, I guess I can tell all she'll wish to hear," answered the youth, and seated at one end of a couch, with Jessie at the other, he told much of his life at Oak Hall, with its studies, its pranks, and its athletic sports. Dave could see the humorous side of a thing as well as anybody, and some stories he told made Mr. and Mrs. Wadsworth laugh as well as Jessie. On his trials he touched but lightly, for he could not dream of giving his little lady friend pain.
On the following day Nat Poole came home, and Dave met the aristocratic youth in one of the stores of Crumville. Poole gave him a glassy stare and did not speak. A few minutes later Dave met Ben.
"Just ran into Poole," said the latter, "and what do you think, he made out that he didn't see me."
"He was in Parsons' store, but he wouldn't speak to me, either," answered Dave. "He must feel awfully sore. But I shan't mind."
"Nor I, Dave. I never did like that fellow, and I don't like his father, either. By the way, have you heard anything more about the farm that be longs to Professor Potts?"
"Yes, and I am glad, and so is he, that we didn't let Nat's father get hold of it. The new trolley company is going to put a line past it, and Mr. Wadsworth says it will be quite valuable in time."
Two days passed, and then Dave got long letters from Phil and Roger. Senator Morr had been to see Mr. Lawrence and had arranged to have his son go on the long trip to the South Seas. Roger was almost wild with joy, and said he was going to prepare for the trip immediately.
The letter from Phil told Dave that the start for San Francisco was to be made on the following Monday morning. All the boys were to meet at the Grand Central Depot, in New York City, and take the limited express which left for Chicago at noon.
"I will go with you as far as New York," an nounced Mr. Wadsworth. "I wish to see that your journey is safely begun."
The last days of the week were busy ones for Dave. A steamer trunk was procured for him, and into this was packed his outfit, including a semi-nautical suit that fitted him to perfection and gave him quite a sailor look.
"I suppose you'll be a regular sailor by the time you come back," said Jessie.
"I don't know about that," answered Dave. "I am not going for that purpose," and his tone grew serious.
"Oh, I know that, Dave. I hope you find what you are going for. But—but"
"But what, Jessie?"
"Oh, I—I don't want you to leave us, Dave. If you find a father, or an uncle, or brother, or somebody like that, I suppose you won't stay with us any more." And the young miss pouted engagingly.
"I'll certainly not care to leave you, Jessie," he answered, gently. "But you cannot blame me for wanting to find out who I am, I am sure."
"Oh, no, Dave!"
"I don't want to remain a nobody and have folks shun me on that account."
"Who would do such a thing?" she asked, her eyes opening widely.
"Oh, a good many folks."
"It is very mean of them," came from the little miss, firmly. "But, never mind, Dave, I'll not shun you," she went on, catching his hand and squeezing it as hard as she could. "We're going to be just like a brother and sister always, aren't we?"
"If you say so."
"Don't you say so, Dave?"
"Yes, Jessie."
"Then that is settled, and we won't talk about it any more. Shun you! I just want to see them do it! I won't speak to anybody that does such a thing!" And Jessie looked as tragic as a miss of thirteen can look.
Among the things provided by thoughtful Mr. Wadsworth for Dave was a money belt, and in this was placed a fair amount of bankbills, and also a letter of credit.
"Mr. Wadsworth, you are more than kind!" cried the country boy, and something like tears stood in his honest eyes. "How can I ever repay you?"
"In one way only, Dave. By making a real man of yourself."
"I shall do my best, sir."
"Then that is all I ask."
Billy Dill had been communicated with, and Caspar Potts went after the tar and brought him to Crumville, where Oliver Wadsworth procured the sailor a new outfit. Billy Dill's health was now restored completely, and the only thing he suffered from was a slight loss of memory, and even that defect seemed to be gradually wearing away.
"I'll be the happiest tar afloat when I have the rolling ocean under me once more," said he to Dave. "Cables an' capstans! but I do love the salt breeze!"
"Well, you'll soon get enough of it," answered the boy. "We have a long trip before us."