Dave Porter and His Rivals: or, The Chums and Foes of Oak Hall. Stratemeyer Edward

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Dave Porter and His Rivals: or, The Chums and Foes of Oak Hall - Stratemeyer Edward


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rod will do," answered Dave. "Shadow, hand it over."

      "All right, but don't break the rod," said Shadow. "It cost me four bones."

      The rod was put together, and the school colors fastened to the top. Then the rod was thrust out of a side window of the carryall and waved in the air, first by one student and then another.

      "Look out, that you don't hit nobody with that fishin' pole!" warned the carryall driver, as the turnout swung around a bend of the road.

      He had scarcely spoken when a buggy came into view, driven by a tall, serious-looking individual, wearing a high silk hat. The buggy swung forward quickly, directly in line with the fishing rod, and before the boys could haul the colors in the rod hit the silk hat, sending it whirling into the bushes beside the roadway.

      CHAPTER VIII

      ABOUT SOME NEW STUDENTS

      "Hi! hi! what's the meaning of this outrage!" roared the individual in the buggy, as he brought his horse to a standstill. "Do you want to kill me?"

      "Who is it? Is he hurt?" questioned Dave, quickly.

      "I don't know," answered Ben. "The rod took off his hat, but whether it struck his head or not remains to be seen."

      "Wot's the trouble back there?" demanded Jackson Lemond, as he succeeded in bringing his team to a halt.

      "Trouble is, we hit that man with the rod," answered Buster.

      "Humph! I told you to be careful," grumbled the carryall driver. "It don't pay to act like a passel o' wildcats, nohow!"

      "It's too bad it happened," said Dave, and leaped to the ground and ran back to where the buggy stood, with the driver glaring at them savagely. The other students followed.

      "Are you hurt?" asked Dave, anxiously. The man in the buggy was a total stranger to him.

      "Hurt? I don't know whether I am or not. What do you mean by knocking off my hat with that stick?"

      "It was an accident, sir. We had our school colors on the fishing rod and were waving them in the air. We didn't expect to hit anybody."

      "Bah! you are a lot of rowdies!" growled the man. "Give me my hat!" And he pointed to where the head covering rested on some bushes.

      "There you are," said Ben, restoring the hat to its owner. "But we are not rowdies – it was purely an accident," he added, with a little flash out of his clear eyes.

      "Bah, I know schoolboys! They think it smart to be tough!" The man looked his silk hat over. "I ought to make you buy me a new hat."

      "That doesn't seem to be damaged any," said Buster, as he looked the tile over. "If it is, of course we'll make it right," he added, hastily. He and Luke were holding the fishing rod at the time of the accident.

      "Do you boys belong at Oak Hall?" demanded the man, smoothing down the roughed-up silk hat with his forearm.

      "Yes," answered Dave.

      "I thought so. Well, if this hat is cracked or anything like that I'll notify the master of the school, and make you get me a new hat. Maybe it will be a lesson to you, to be more careful."

      "Let me see the hat, please," said Luke.

      "What for?"

      "I wish to see if it is really damaged."

      "If it is, I'll let you know quick enough, don't fear."

      "I want to see it now. I am not going to pay for a new hat if this one is all right."

      "Ha! so you don't want to take my word for it, eh?" roared the man.

      "I want to look the hat over," answered Luke, stubbornly.

      "So do I," added Buster.

      "I'll not give you the hat – to play more tricks with. I shall take it to a hat dealer, and if he says it is injured, I'll call at the school about it." And having thus delivered himself the man in the buggy put the silk hat on his head, spoke to his horse, and whirled on down the road in the direction of Rockville.

      "Talk about a peppery individual!" cried Ben. "He certainly is one."

      "I don't think the hat was damaged at all," said Dave. "It will simply be a hold-up – if he tries to get a new one out of us. That hat is quite old and rusty-looking."

      "He was a rusty-looking fellow all the way through," commented Buster. "Wonder who he is?"

      "He's some kind of a doctor," answered the carryall driver, who had left his turnout to join the boys. "He came to Oakdale and Rockville this summer, and he gives lectures on how to git well and strong, an' then he sells medicine. I know a feller got a bottle from him, but it didn't do him no good. He calls himself Doctor Montgomery, – but I reckon he ain't no real doctor at all."

      "Must be one of these quacks who go around the country trying to rope people in," said Dave. "If he is, he ought to be run out of the neighborhood."

      "Maybe we'll never hear from him again," said Luke. But the boys were destined to hear from Hooker Montgomery again, and in a manner to surprise them.

      Returning to the carryall, the boys took in the colors, so that they might do no further damage, and then the journey to Oak Hall was resumed. The encounter on the road had sobered them a little, and this did not wear away until they came in sight of the school buildings.

      "Hurrah! I see Phil and Roger!" cried Dave, as the carryall swung in between the large oak trees that gave the place its name. "Hello!" he shouted. "Here we are again!"

      "Dave!" returned the senator's son, running forward, while Phil did the same. "How are you all?" he added, waving his hand to the crowd in general.

      A number of other boys were present, and soon Dave was surrounded by his old friends, all eager to shake hands. They wanted to know all about his trip, and he in return wanted to know what they had been doing. So there was a perfect babble of voices as the crowd walked into the main school building, where good old Doctor Hasmer Clay, the head of the institution, stood to welcome each new arrival.

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