Dave Porter at Oak Hall/Chapter 26
CHAPTER XXVI
THE SURPRISES OF A NIGHT
"Stop her! Stop her!"
"We'll go over, sure!"
All of the students were on their feet and several prepared to leap from the swiftly moving trolley car.
"Don't jump," came from Roger. "I've got the brake on. Don't jump!"
He had at last managed to release the brake from where it was stuck, and now he applied it with all his power. The sparks flew from the wheels as they slid along the steel rails, and the car bumped and creaked over the uneven track. Then they struck the curve, and the front truck left the rails and jammed up tightly into some rocks and dirt. Everybody was thrown forward, and while one boy went over the dashboard, poor Buster Beggs turned a somersault from the roof, and landed in some bushes a dozen feet away.
Shrieks and yells arose. It was, "Get off my back!" here, and "Oh, my leg!" there, while one boy in a corner gasped out, "Somebody's mashing me!" For a full minute pandemonium reigned, and then, slowly, all began to recover their senses.
"Well, this is the worst yet!" cried Ben, limping from the car. "I guess my little toe is about squashed. How are you, Dave?"
"I'm all right, but I was pretty well squeezed."
"Somebody fish me out of the bushes!" came in a wail from Buster Beggs.
"Buster's been doing the circus act of his life," came from Sam Day.
"Anybody hurt?" questioned Phil, anxiously.
An examination was made, and it was soon ascertained that, while a number had been bruised, nobody was seriously hurt. But all agreed that the shaking up had been so great that nobody wished to try the experience again.
"Talk about a ride by moonlight!" grumbled one of the party. "I'd rather ride a trick mule."
"Well, we can be thankful that nobody was killed," said Dave. "If that brake had remained stuck, some of us would have had a different story to tell."
Most of the students were very sober as they walked around the trolley car. The rear truck was still on the tracks, but the forward wheels were a foot and a half from the rails.
"I don't see how we are to get those wheels back on the track," came from Ben. "A trolley car weighs a good deal, and we have no tools to work with."
"We must get it back," said Phil. "We can't leave the car here."
"How are we to return to the Hall?" came from another. "We are at least nine miles away."
"Walking is good, Belcher."
"I'm not going to walk," retorted Belcher. "I want my twenty-six cents' worth, and I'm going to ride." And this created a short laugh.
"Perhaps we can pry the wheels back on the tracks," suggested Dave. "Let us get a few fence rails and try it."
There was a rail fence not a great distance away, and soon the boys had several rails. Under the directions of Phil and Dave they were put into position, and flat rocks were placed under them. Then the rest set to work to pry up the front end of the car and the truck with them.
It was hard work, and for half an hour the wheels refused to move as desired. But then more rails were brought into play, and at last the wheels of the truck slipped back on the tracks.
"Hurrah!" shouted Roger. "Back at last! Now, fellows, we had better get aboard once more, and return to where we came from."
"There is to be no hurrying on this trip back," declared Phil. "We must take our time and be sure of what we are doing."
"Right you are," came from Buster. "I don't want any more tumbles." The bushes had scratched his hands and face not a little.
"You keep off the roof, Buster," said Phil. "I don't want anybody to be killed on this trip."
The controller was placed on the other end of the car and the trolley pole switched around, and then the journey back to the starting point was begun. The car seemed to work all right, and they turned on a moderate degree of power.
"We'll have to get back soon," cried Roger, consulting his watch. "Do you know what time it is?"
"Quarter to twelve," said another student.
"Exactly, and do you know that the power is shut off from this line at twelve o'clock?"
"Is that true?" demanded Dave.
"Yes, I heard somebody speaking of it last week. The last car out returns to the car barn at twelve o'clock, and then the power is cut off until six in the morning."
"Then we want to make the most of our time," said Ben. "Give her a little more power on the straight stretches, but mind the brake, and look out for the switches and other cars," and this was done.
Nevertheless, twelve o'clock found them still three miles from the starting point. The power held, however, for a few minutes longer and in that time they covered all but a mile and a quarter of the distance. Then, just as they were nearing the top of a hill, the power died out completely.
"That ends it," sighed Phil. "Put on the brake, or we'll slide backwards. I don't see why they didn't keep the power on until this car came back."
"I've got a scheme," suggested Roger. "Can't we push the car to the top of the hill? It's only a few yards. Then we can run down the other side without power."
"Hurrah! saved again!" cried one of the crowd. "Come on, everybody!" And out of the car swarmed the club members, Murphy leading. Some got in the rear of the car, and the others on the sides, and all shoved with might and main.
"She's coming! Now, then, all together!" shouted Phil. "Push as if you meant it." And push they did, until the car reached the top of the grade and started to slide down the other side.
Then on they leaped once more, and swept downward, until the starting point came into view, where the trolley car was stopped at the exact point where they had got aboard.
The members of the club found the old motorman where they had left him.
"Now, listen," said Phil. "If we give you three dollars will you promise to keep quiet about this affair?"
"Sure," said the motorman, with a grin. He had had to do with Oak Hall and Rockville students before.
"Very well, here's the money," came from the secretary of the Gee Eyes, and it was passed over. Then the trolley fares were also paid, and the students prepared to depart.
"That car will have to remain where she is until morning," said the motorman.
"Then let her stay," said Roger. "You can say there was a slight accident."
"All right," and again the old motorman grinned; he was an easy fellow with whom to deal.
As quickly as possible, the members of the club marched back to the vicinity of Oak Hall. Then two were sent ahead as scouts, to learn if the coast was clear. In a few minutes one came back in a state of excitement.
"Old Job Haskers is around the lower hall!" he announced. "I'm afraid our absence has been discovered."
"In that case our cake is dough," murmured Roger.
"Wait—I'll make certain of this," came from Phil. "Come on, Dave, if you will."
They hurried to the Hall, and slipping into a side door, found the second assistant sitting in a chair, as if on guard.
"He has found out something, otherwise he wouldn't be down here at this hour of the night," whispered Phil.
"I've got a scheme," whispered Dave in return. The adventures of the night had sharpened his wits. "I'll try to get him into the storeroom yonder. If he goes in, slip into the hall and lock the door on him."
"How will you do it?"
"Wait and see."
Dave tiptoed his way around the building, and pausing at the window of the storeroom began to rattle the blinds and the sash. At first this did not attract Job Haskers' attention, but presently he arose and tiptoed his way into the storeroom to see what it meant.
Phil was watching the assistant master, and as silently as he could he sneaked up, closed the door, and turned the key. Then he ran outside and gave a low but clear whistle.
It was a signal that the coast was clear, and like so many cats the students ran into the Hall and scampered to their dormitories. Some were already partly undressed, and in a very few minutes all were in bed and safe.
As soon as Dave heard the other boys enter the building, he followed, and then of course, the rattling at the window ceased.
"Queer what that was," murmured Job Haskers to himself. "There isn't any wind to-night." He gazed out of the window, but could see nothing unusual. This done he retraced his steps to the door.
The moment he tried the handle he realized that something was wrong. He felt for the catch of the lock, but found that shoved down. Then he knew he was locked in.
"The young rascals!" he muttered, savagely. "Hi! Let me out!" he roared. "Do you hear? Let me out!"
No one answered his command, and he began to beat upon the door. Then he thumped so loudly that Pop Swingly, the janitor, came up, followed presently by Dr. Clay and Andrew Dale.
"Who's in there?" demanded the janitor, who had armed himself with a club.
"I am, Swingly. Let me out!"
"If it ain't Mr. Haskers!" ejaculated the janitor. "Who locked you in?"
"That is what I'd like to know. Did you see anybody around?"
"Not a soul, sir—everybody has gone to bed."
"No, some of the young rascals are around—I heard them go out hours ago, and I was waiting for them to get back."
"Did you say some of the students were out?" demanded Dr. Clay.
"Yes, sir."
"And they locked you in the storeroom?" asked Andrew Dale, and smiled to himself in the semi-darkness.
"They did."
"I'll investigate this!" thundered the doctor. "Mr. Dale, look through the dormitories and report who is missing."
"I'll go along," put in Job Haskers.
"These revels at night must cease, and at once," continued the master of Oak Hall. "Make an close investigation, and I will make an example of the offenders."
"I'd just like to punish them," muttered Job Haskers. "The idea of locking me, me in the storeroom," and he shook his head bitterly.
The two assistants hurried off, and were gone the best part of quarter of an hour. They had visited every dormitory belonging to the students, and now they reported at the doctor's office.
"Three students are missing," said Andrew Dale. "Augustus Plum, Chipham Macklin, and Nathaniel Poole. We have ascertained that they left the Hall about nine o'clock and have not yet returned."