The High School Freshmen Part 11

"Brace up, man, unless you want to admit your thras.h.i.+ng," urged Ted Butler.

"I'll attend to that mucker when I feel like it," growled Fred Ripley.

The form of the remark was unfortunate for the one who made it, for it caused one of the freshman cla.s.s to call out exultantly:

"He sure doesn't feel like it just now. Look at him!"

"Come, if you don't hurry in you've get to admit the beating,"

muttered Ted Butler.

Ripley's reply being only a snort, Butler suddenly drew forth his handkerchief, rolling it rapidly into a ball.

"In default of a sponge," called Butler, "I throw this up for my man---I mean princ.i.p.al."

"Ripley being unable to come to the scratch, the fight is awarded to Prescott," announced Frank Thompson.

"Whoop! Hoo-oo-ray!" The freshmen cl.u.s.tered about were wild with excitement.

"You'll have a fine time squaring this with the soph.o.m.ore cla.s.s,"

uttered Ted Butler, disgustedly. "Your cla.s.s, Ripley, will be sore enough, anyway, over losing the paper chase for the first time that any of us can remember. Now, for a soph to be thrashed, in three rounds, by a little freshman-----"

Butler didn't finish, but, turning on his heel, walked over to join the rest.

There were two soph.o.m.ores there who had come over at the end of the paper chase, but neither went to the a.s.sistance of his defeated cla.s.sman. Ripley, alone, got his sweater back over his head.

The crowd was around d.i.c.k Prescott, who felt almost ashamed of the fight, unavoidable as he knew it to have been.

When he had finished getting his clothes on, Ripley stalked moodily past the main group.

"You mucker," he hissed, "I suppose you feel swelled up over having had a chance to fight gentleman. You-----"

"Oh, Ripley, dry up---do!" interjected Ted Butler. "You call yourself a gentleman, but you talk and act more like well, more like a pup with the mange!"

"A pup with the mange! Great!" came the gleeful chorus from a half score of freshmen.

"I'm not through with you, yet, Prescott!" Fred Ripley called back over his shoulder. "I'll settle my score with you at my convenience!"

Then, as he put more distance between himself and the other Gridley High School boys, Ripley added to himself:

"That settlement shall stop at nothing to put d.i.c.k Prescott in the dust---where he belongs."

"Oh, fres.h.i.+e, but you've coolness and judgment," cried Thompson, approvingly. "And you've broken one cad's heart today."

"I'm sorry if I have," declared d.i.c.k, frankly, generously. "I wouldn't have had any heart in the fight if he hadn't started in to humiliate me. I wouldn't have cared so much for that, either.

But he started to say something nasty about my parents, and I have as good parents as ever a boy had. Then I felt I simply _had_ to fit a plug between Ripley's teeth."

Fred Ripley had pain in his eyes to help keep him awake that night. Yet he would have been awake, anyway, for his wicked brain was seething with plans for the way to "get even" with d.i.c.k Prescott.

CHAPTER VI

FRED OFFERS TO SOLVE THE LOCKER MYSTERY

For a week Gridley High School managed to get along without the presence of Fred Ripley. That haughty young man was at home, nursing a pair of black eyes and his wrath.

Yet, in a whole week, a mean fellow who is rather clever can hatch a whole lot of mischief. This d.i.c.k & Co., and some others, were presently to discover.

All outer wraps were left in the bas.e.m.e.nt in locker rooms on which barred iron doors were locked. In the boys' bas.e.m.e.nt were lockers A and B. Each locker was in charge of a monitor who carried the key to his own particular locker room.

As it happened d.i.c.k Prescott was at present monitor of Locker A.

If during school hours, one of the boys wanted to get his hat out of a locker the monitor of that locker went to the bas.e.m.e.nt with him, unlocking the door, and locking it again after the desired article of apparel had been obtained.

Thus, in a general way, each monitor was responsible for the safety of hats, coats, umbrellas, overshoes, etc., that might have been left in the locker that was in his charge.

Wednesday, just after one o'clock one of the soph.o.m.ore boys went hurriedly up the stairs, a worried look on his face. He went straight to the princ.i.p.al's office, and was fortunate enough to find that gentleman still at his desk.

"What is it, Edwards?" asked the princ.i.p.al, looking up.

"Dr. Thornton, I've had something strange happen to me, or to my overcoat, if you prefer to put it that way," replied Edwards.

"What has gone wrong?"

"Why, sir, relying on the safety of the looker, I left, at recess in one of my overcoat pockets, a package containing a jeweled pin that had been repaired for my mother. Now, sir, on going down to my coat, I found the pin missing from the pocket."

"Did you look thoroughly on the floor, Edwards?"

"Yes, sir; hunted thoroughly."

"Wait; I'll go down with you," proposed the princ.i.p.al.

Both princ.i.p.al and student searched thoroughly in the locker.

d.i.c.k, as in duty bound, was still there, on guard at the door.

"Mr. Prescott," asked puzzled Dr. Thornton, did any student have admittance to the locker after recess today?"

"None, sir," answered d.i.c.k promptly.

"Hm! And you're absolutely sure, Mr. Edwards, that you left the little package in your overcoat pocket?"

"Positive of it, Dr. Thornton."

"It's so strange that it startles me," admitted the good princ.i.p.al.

"It startles me a good deal," confessed Edwards, grimly, "to think what explanation I am to offer my mother."

"Oh, well, it _must_ turn up," replied Dr. Thornton, though vaguely.