Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days; Or, The Handicap of a Millionaire's Son Part 27

Accompanied by the commandant, d.i.c.k went to his apartment. To his surprise his neat bureau was in great disorder, the objects on it being scattered all about.

"Well?" asked Major Rockford.

"Some one--some one must have been in here, sir," said d.i.c.k.

"Ha! Do you wish to accuse any one?"

d.i.c.k went closer to his bureau. Something on it caught his eye. It was a note written in pencil. It read:

"DEAR HAMILTON: I am awfully sick this morning. I lost that twenty-five you loaned me. Can you let me have some more? I called but you were out, so I wrote this note here. Please let me have the money.

"RUSSELL GLEN."

Then d.i.c.k understood. Glen, suffering from the effects of his dissipation the night before, had called at the room after our hero and Paul had left to go to breakfast. In writing the note Glen had, probably unthinkingly, disarranged the things on d.i.c.k's bureau, where he wrote and left the missive. Then he had gone away, and, Captain Naylor, on police inspection, had seen the disorder, and reported d.i.c.k.

"Do you wish to accuse any one?" went on Major Rockford.

d.i.c.k thought rapidly. To tell the true circ.u.mstances, and show Glen's note, would mean that the facts of the spread would come out. Glen and his chums would be punished, and d.i.c.k might be censured. It would be better to accept the blame for having his room in disorder, rather than incur the displeasure of his comrades by being the means of informing on Glen.

So d.i.c.k answered:

"I--I guess I was mistaken, sir. I am sorry my room was out of order."

"So am I, Hamilton, for you have a good record. Still there have been several violations of late, among the cadets, and I must make an example. But, in view of your good conduct, and record I will not give you any demerits."

"Thank you, sir."

"Still, I must inflict some punishment You will not be allowed to attend the football game this afternoon, but must remain in your room."

That was punishment indeed, for d.i.c.k felt that he would have a chance to play. Still, like a good soldier, he did not murmur. He concealed Glen's note in his hand, saluted the major and then, as chapel was over, he marched to his cla.s.sroom, with a heavy heart.

"I wonder if that was part of a plot to get me into trouble," thought d.i.c.k, as he recalled what he had overheard Dutton say. "They're trying to force me to leave the academy. But I'll not go! I'll fight it out!"

He felt very lonesome as he had to retire to his room that afternoon, and heard the merry shouts of the football eleven, the subst.i.tutes, and the other cadets leaving for the final battle on the gridiron with Mooretown.

"How I wish I could go!" thought d.i.c.k. "I'm punished for something I didn't do. It isn't right. Still, perhaps Glen was so sick he didn't know what he was doing."

He had already sent Glen some more money, for he did not want to refuse one of the few favors that had been asked of him since coming to the academy.

As he was moping in his room, Toots came along, whistling "Three Cheers for the Red, White and Blue," and giving a succession of bugle calls.

"What? Not at the game, Mister Hamilton?" asked the jolly janitor.

"No; I'm a prisoner."

"That's nothing. Many a time I got out of the guard house. There's no one around now, and I won't look, nor squeal. You can easily slip out, and go to the game."

"No," said d.i.c.k, though the temptation was strong. "By the way, Toots, did you ever call to mind about this picture?" and he showed him the one of missing Bill Handlee, which was still on the mantle.

"No," replied Toots, again striving hard to remember about it. "It's clean gone from me, Mr. Hamilton. But, are you sure you don't want to escape? I can find some work to do at the other side of the barracks, if you want to go."

"No. I'll stay."

And stay d.i.c.k did, all that long afternoon. It was dusk when the players and the other cadets came back, and there was an ominous silence about their return.

"It doesn't sound as if they'd won," thought d.i.c.k. "If they did they're celebrating very quietly."

Paul Drew came in a little later.

"How about the game?" asked d.i.c.k eagerly.

"We lost," said Paul. "We might have won, only Henderson, who had a chance to score a winning touchdown, couldn't run fast enough with the ball, and he was downed on the five-yard line, too late for another try to cross the Mooretown goal. I wish you had played. You'd have won the game for us."

"Oh, I guess not."

"Yes, you would. Captain Rutledge admitted as much."

"Well, maybe I'll get a chance next time."

"There won't be any next time this year. The game is over for the season, and Mooretown did us two contests out of three. It's too bad.

The fellows are all cut up over it. Say, have you any idea who mussed up your bureau? Was it Dutton?"

"No, it wasn't Dutton," said d.i.c.k quietly, and that was all he could be induced to say about it.

Discipline, which had been somewhat relaxed during the football season, was now in force again, and the cadets found they were kept very busy with their studies and drills. d.i.c.k was standing well in his cla.s.ses, but he made no more progress in gaining the friends.h.i.+p of the students, other than a few freshmen.

Even Glen showed no disposition to make much of d.i.c.k. He did not repay the money borrowed, on the plea that he was in debt quite heavily, and had lost much on the football game. Still he had the cheek to ask d.i.c.k for more, and when the young millionaire properly refused Glen called him a "tight-wad," and sneered at him, making no pretense of retaining his friends.h.i.+p.

One night, following several spreads, to none of which was d.i.c.k invited, he wrote a rather discouraged letter to his father, hinting that he wished he could attend some other school.

In due time there came an answer, part of which was as follows:

"You know the terms were that you were to remain at least a full term. Still, if you do not wish to, you have the choice of going to your Uncle Ezra. He will send you to a boarding school of his own selection. Let me know what you will do. I will not be able to get home by Christmas, as I expected, and you had better remain at the academy over the holidays. I know it will be lonesome for you, but it can't be helped."

"Go to a boarding school selected by Uncle Ezra," murmured d.i.c.k. "Never!

I'll stay here a full term, even if no one but the teachers speak to me.

I never could stand Uncle Ezra and Dankville. This is bad enough, but there are some bright spots in it. The sun never s.h.i.+nes where Uncle Ezra is."

Yet the time was coming when Uncle Ezra was to do d.i.c.k a great favor, though he himself was not aware of it.

So d.i.c.k sent word to his father that he would remain at Kentfield. Fall merged into winter, and overcoats were the order of the day at all out-door exercises. Much of the drilling and parading was omitted, and more study and recitation was indulged in. What maneuvers on horseback and afoot were held, took place mainly in the big riding hall or drill room, and they were not as attractive as when held out of doors.

"Well, are you going home for Christmas?" asked Paul, about a week before the holiday vacation.

"Guess not," replied d.i.c.k, somewhat gloomily. "Our house is shut up, and I don't care about spending Christmas at a hotel in Hamilton Corners."

"Come home with me."

"No, thank you. I was thinking of visiting some of my chums at home. I believe I'll do that. I'll be glad to see them again."