"What's the use of a guard over our clothes?" queried Dave. "There isn't another soul besides ourselves in these woods this afternoon."

"Go on thinking that!" chuckled Teall.

Running out on a log and putting his hands together, Dick dived.

"How's the water?" called Tom.

"Cold," Prescott answered, blowing out a mouthful as he struck out for the middle of the pond. "You'd better keep out."

"He wants the pond all to himself," muttered Tom, and dived at once.

In a moment all six boys were in the water, sporting about and enjoying themselves.

"I wish they'd get further away from here," thought Ted wistfully. "They're hanging right around here. If I show myself they'll all swim in. There wouldn't be time to do anything."

All too late Ted heard some one coming through the woods behind him. He crouched, ready to crawl away to privacy, but found himself too late. Hi Martin parted the bushes as be forced his way through.

"Hello, Teall," called the North Grammar captain.

"Hush—-sh—-sh!" warned Ted, putting a finger to his lips.

"What's the matter?"

"Prescott and his crew are out there swimming, and their clothes are right below."

"I see," nodded Martin. "You want to get the clothes?"

"Sit down here, out of sight, and keep quiet, won't you?" urged Teall.

Hi sat down quietly. He didn't like Teall especially, but he disliked Prescott, and perhaps here was a chance to serve Dick's discomfort.

"If they'd only swim away for a little stretch!" whispered Ted.

"I see," nodded Hi Martin rather pompously. "Too bad, isn't it? Now, Teall, you and Prescott both come from mucker schools, and I don't know that I ought to butt in any. But I don't mind seeing you torment Prescott a bit. You wait. I'll go in, and maybe I can challenge those fellows to swim down the pond that will take them away from this point."

Ted's face had flushed sullenly at Hi's remark about "mucker schools." At another time Teall might have been ready to fight over a slighting word like that. Just now, however, he craved help against Prescott more than anything else.

"All right," urged Ted. "You decoy that crowd away from here for a few minutes, and maybe I won't do a thing to them!"

"I'll see what I can do for you," returned Martin, going down to the edge of the pond.

"How's the water, fellows?" called Hi.

"Fine," returned Dick with enthusiasm.

"Room enough in the pond for another?" Hi asked.

"Surely. Come on in."

"I believe I will," Hi answered, seating himself and fumbling at his shoe-lacings.

A couple of minutes later Hi dived from the log and swam out to the other boys.

"Are you fellows any good on swimming distances?" Martin asked, as, with lazy stroke, he joined Dick & Co. The North Grammar boy was an expert swimmer and proud of it.

"I guess we can swim a little way," Prescott replied. "I don't remember that we ever swam any measured courses."

"Can you swim down to that old elm?" asked Hi, indicating a tree at the further end of the pond.

"We ought to," smiled Dick.

"Come along, then," invited Hi, starting with a side stroke.

Dick & Co. started in irregular fashion, Darrin and Reade soon spurting on ahead of Martin.

"How long can you tread water?" inquired Hi, after they had reached the neighborhood of the elm.

This sport is always interesting to boys who are good swimmers. Forthwith some endurance tests at treading were started. Then Hi showed them all a few "stunts" in the water, some of which Dick & Co. could duplicate easily, and some which they could not.

Thus the minutes slipped by. Hi, for once in his life, went out of his way to be entertaining to Central Grammar boys. But, at last, he muttered to himself:

"I guess Teall has had plenty of time for his tricks. If he hasn't, then all afternoon wouldn't he time enough."

"Hello, Hi," called Dick. "Where are you going?"

"Back to dress," Martin replied. "I've been in long enough."

"I guess we all have," Dick nodded, himself turning back. His chums followed.

"I don't know whether I'll dress or not," remarked Tom Reade, as he shot ahead of the others. "If I find I don't want to dress, then I'll just sit on the bank and dry my skin before going in again."

Continuing his spurt, Tom kept on until be reached the log from which the first diving had been done. He waded ashore, looked about in some bewilderment, and then called over the water:

"Say, fellows, just where was it that we left our clothes?"

"Why, barely a dozen feet back of the log," Dick called from the water.

"Hardly ten feet from where my clothes lie," added Hi Martin, his face solemn, but with an inward chuckle over the rage of six boys that he knew was soon to follow.

"But where are your clothes, Martin?" asked Tom, staring about him. "Where is anybody's clothes?"

The look in Hi's face changed rapidly. He took a few swift, strong strokes that bore him to shore.

Then, indeed, Martin's wrath and disgust knew no bounds. For his clothing was as invisible as that of the Central Grammar boys.



Chapter IX

HI MARTIN TRIES TO MAKE TERMS

"Confound that fellow Teall!"

This angry expression slipped past Hi's lips unguardedly.

By this time Dick Prescott was on shore. His quick, keen glances took in the patent fact that some one had removed all the discarded clothing from sight.

"So Ted Teall was around here, and you knew that he was going to take our clothing?" demanded Dick, flashing a searching look at Hi Martin.

When too late, Hi Martin saw how he had put his foot into the mess by his indignant exclamation.

"And, knowing that Teall was going to slip away with our clothing," Dick went on, "you went into the water and lured us away to the lower end of the pond. That was what you did to us, was it, Martin?"

Hi shook his head, then opened his mouth to utter an indignant denial.

"Don't try to fool us," advised Dick bitterly. "Martin, you may have thought it funny, but it was a mean trick to serve us, and I am glad that Teall has shown you how little he likes you."

Under ordinary circumstances Ted might have left Hi Martin's clothes behind. It had been Hi's impolitic remark about "mucker schools" that had decided Ted to take away Hi's belongings as well.

"That Teall is a dirty sneak," cried Hi.

"He was simply a comical genius as long as he took only our clothes," Dick retorted. "But now that your things are gone as well, it's a mean, low-down bit of business."

"Martin," observed Tom Reade dramatically, "thine own ox is gored."

"Talking won't bring back any duds," grunted Harry Hazelton. "Teall can't have gotten very far with such a load. Let's rush after him."

"You lead the way, then, son," suggested Dick, "and instead of following you, we'll wait here until you bring the things back."

"I wonder which way he went?" puzzled Hazelton.

"Probably straight to the road," smiled Dick grimly. "That's the shortest cut, and the road isn't far from here."

"But I can't go near the road in this—-this—-fix," sputtered Harry, looking down at his wet, glistening skin.

"Exactly," nodded Prescott. "Nor can any of us go. That's the joke. Like it? Ha, ha, ha!"

Dick's laugh had anything but a merry sound. None of the boys had a truly jovial look, nor was it to be expected of them. Tom was solemn as an owl, Harry fussy; Dan was grinning in a sickly sort of way, as was Dave Darrin. Greg Holmes, utterly silent, stood with his fists clenched, thinking how he would like to be able at this moment to pounce upon Ted Teall.

"It's an outrage!" sputtered Hi Martin, white to the roots of his hair. He was walking about, stamping with his bare feet on the ground, the fingers of both his hands working nervously.

"Oh, well, you won't get any sympathy in this crowd," Tom assured Hi glumly. "You were party to this, and all that disturbs you is that any one should dare take the same kind of a liberty with you. We don't care what happens to you, now, Martin."

"What shall we do with Martin, anyway?" demanded Dan Dalzell.

"Nothing," returned Dick crisply. "He isn't worthy of having anything done to him."

"Let's call 'Ted' with all our might," proposed Harry.

"You can, if you want to," Dick rejoined. "I doubt if he is now near enough to hear you. Even if he did hear, he'd only snicker and run further away."

After a few moments more Dick and his chums, as though by common consent, squatted on the sand near the edge of the pond. It was warmer for them that way. Martin edged over close to them. Not one member of Dick & Co. did the captain of the North Grammar nine really like, but in his present woeful plight Hi wanted human company of some kind, and he could not very well go in search of people who wore all their clothing.

While the swimmers had been occupied in the water at the lower end of the pond, Ted Teall had been wonderfully busy.

First of all, Ted had loaded himself with about half the clothing belonging to Dick & Co. The shoes he had carried by tying each pair by means of the laces and swinging three pair around his neck. The first load be carried swiftly through the woods until be came to a thicket where he hoped he would find concealment.

Then he had gone back for the other half of the clothing. This, upon arrival at the thicket, Ted dropped in on top of the first installment.

"Now, I guess I ought to hide somewhere where there won't be the least danger of them finding me. Then I can see the fun when those fellows come ashore," chuckled Teall. "Hold on, though! There's one more debt to pay. That confounded Hi Martin called the South Grammar a 'mucker' school. I believe I'll hide his clothes, too, for his saying what he did. But I'll have to go carefully, and see whether the fellows are still out of sight."

Ted returned with a good deal of caution. Then he discovered, by the sound of voices, that the swimmers were still at the lower end of the pond.

"Plenty of time to get Hi's duds, too," chuckled the pleased joker. He slipped down close to the beach, gathering up all of Martin's garments and the hat and shoes.

"Say, it must be fine to have a pretty well fixed father," murmured Ted wistfully. "All these duds of Hi's are of the best quality. I wonder if I'll be able to wear clothes like these when I'm earning my own money?"

Then he started off, going more slowly than on his two previous trips, for he felt that he had plenty of time. But at last the nearing voices of the returning swimmers warned him.

"They can't see me," chuckled Ted. "If any of 'em chase me, I can make a quick dash for the road and they won't dare follow me there. They'd be afraid of running into other people."

So Ted even dallied for a while. Some of the angry words uttered reached his ears and delighted him.

"Hi Martin is hot with wrath, and I'm glad of it," chuckled Ted to himself. "So he thought I'd spare him, did he! Huh! The next time he'd better be a little more careful over his remarks about 'mucker' schools!"

Then Ted walked on again leisurely.

"I believe I'll let these fellows stay here until about dark, hunting for their clothes, and not finding 'em," reflected Teall. "Then I'll have Ed Payne drop around and tell 'em just where to look. They can't thump Payne, for he won't be guilty of anything but helping 'em. Then maybe Dick Prescott will pitch dynamite again for me to bat at!"

Teall gained the thicket that concealed the other clothing. Just as he was about to cast Martin's belongings after the other wardrobes, he was disturbed by a sound close at hand.

With a start Ted looked up. Then he felt uneasy; frightened, in fact. At his side stood a shabbily dressed man of middle age. The man's cheeks were sunken, though they burned with an unhealthy glow. There was, in the eyes, also a light that made Ted creepy.

"S-s-say, wh-what do you want?" stammered Teall.

"So you are a thief, and at work?" inquired the man, who had rested a thin but rather strong hand on Ted's shoulder.

"A thief?" Teall repeated indignantly. "No, sir! And nothing like it, either."

"Is all the clothing in there yours?" demanded the stranger sternly.

"No, sir," Ted answered promptly.

"Then——-"

"You see," Ted went on more glibly, and trying to conceal the fact that he was very uneasy under those burning eyes, "it's just a joke that I'm playing on some fellows who are swimming."

"You consider that sort of a joke humorous?" demanded the stranger, tightening the grip of his hand on Teall's shoulder until the boy squirmed.

"It's not a bit worse than what one of them did to me this morning," Ted asserted, strongly on the defensive now. "And I don't know what business it is of yours, mister. Who are you, anyway?"

"My name," replied the other quietly, "is Amos Garwood."

"Amos Gar—-wood?" Ted repeated. At first the name conveyed no information to him. But suddenly he remembered the name that had been on everyone's tongue a few days before.

"The crazy man?" cried Ted, his voice shaking. Then the woods rang with his startled combination of whoop and prayer.

"This is no place for me!" gasped Teall huskily, as, frantically, he tore himself free of that grip on his shoulder.

Without more ado Ted Teall broke through cover for the road. Never before had he realized how fast it was possible for him to sprint. Terror is an unexcelled pacemaker at times.

That whoop, followed by the yell of fear, traveled until it reached the boys at the lakeside. The distance and the breeze must have robbed the voice of some of its terror, for Dick sprang to his feet like a flash.

"That was Ted Teall's fine voice!" he cried, running up the slight slope. "Come on, fellows! We'll travel straight in that direction—-and we'll find our clothing."

Nor were any of the boys very far behind Dick in the mad race. Though two or three of them stepped on stones on the way, no one gave a thought to so slight an accident.

Nor was it long ere they burst from cover and came upon Amos Garwood, standing as though lost in thought, for Garwood was trying to comprehend Teall's words, "the crazy man."

All in a flash Dick recognized the man. So did his chums. Hi Martin alone was in the dark.

"Good afternoon," was Garwood's greeting, as he looked up as though coming out of a trance. "You are looking for your clothing, I imagine?"

"Marvelous what a good guesser you are, sir," gasped Tom.

"You'll find your clothing in this thicket," announced Garwood, indicating the spot with a wave of one arm.

Dick and Tom piled into the thicket, passing out the mixed-up articles to the other boys. A quick sorting was made and each item claimed.

"Say!" cried Hi, greatly disturbed. "There isn't a single thing of mine here."

"Serve you right, then," uttered Tom, as he drew an undershirt over his head. "You don't deserve anything to wear."

"You fellows didn't hand out my things," uttered Hi, darting into the thicket. He searched savagely at first, then despairingly. Not a shred of his wardrobe was to be found.

"What became of my clothes?" Martin demanded, stepping out into the open. Tears brimmed his eyes now.

"Clothes? Your clothing?" asked Amos Garwood, again coming to a realization of things about him. "Why, I believe the boy who yelled and ran away from here carried one armful of things with him."

"Which way did he run?" throbbed Hi.

"That way." Garwood pointed to the road.

"You fellows get a few things on and run after Teall as fast as you can go," ordered Hi. "Quick! Don't lose a moment. Do you hear?"

"Yes," nodded Prescott.

"Hustle, then!"

"Forget it," requested Dick, deliberately drawing on a shoe over a sock, next doing the lacing slowly and with great care.

"Which one of you will go!" asked Hi, turning appealingly to the others.

"Hear the echo?" mocked Dave Darrin. "The echo says, 'which one?'"

"Say, you fellows are meaner than poison!" Hi exploded tremulously.

"You have a very short memory, Hi," retorted Greg Holmes.

"Who was it that put up the job on us? Who helped Teall to do it?" asked Harry Hazelton.

"But I'm sorry for that," protested Hi Martin, tears again coming to his eyes.

"I believe you," Dick nodded cheerily. "You're indeed sorry—-sorry for the way it turned out for yourself."

"But aren't you fellows going after Teall and my clothes?" insisted the naked one.

"We're not going to chase Teall," Darrin answered, "if that's what you mean. But, see here, Martin, I'm not going to be downright mean with you."

"Thank you," said Martin gratefully. "You always were a good fellow, Darrin."

"I'm going to be a good fellow now," Dave pursued. "I'm not going to chase Teall, for we don't know which way he went, and he'll be hiding. But I'll go around to your house and tell your folks where you are, and what a fix you're in."

I'll go to-night, just as soon as I've eaten my supper."

"You—-you great idiot!" exploded Hi.

"Now, for that insult, I take back my promise," Dave retorted solemnly. "You needn't talk any more, Martin. I won't do a blessed thing for you now."

"Dave, you're altogether too rough on a fellow that's in hard luck," remonstrated Greg, then turned to Martin to add:

"Hi, it's no use to go chasing Ted Teall, but I'll tell you what I'll do. I'm all dressed now, and I'll go straight to your house and get some clothes for you, so you can come out of these woods and walk home. I'll do it for half a dollar."

"Thank you, Holmesy, I'll do it," Martin eagerly promised. "And I'll thank you, too, from the bottom of my——-"

"You can keep the thanks," proposed Greg gravely. "But you can hand over the half dollar."

"E-e-eh?" stammered Hi, nonplussed, rubbing one hand, for an instant, over his naked thigh in the usual neighborhood of the trousers' pocket.

"Fork over the half dollar!" Greg insisted. "This is a strictly cash-in-advance proposition."

"Why, you—-you—-you——-" stuttered Hi in his wrath. "How can I pay in advance when Ted Teall is a mile away from here with my—-my trousers and all?"

"Cash right in hand, or I don't stir on your job," insisted Greg.

"I—-I'll pay you a whole dollar as soon as I can get home," Hi offered eagerly.

"Hi Martin, after what you've done to us to-day," demanded Greg virtuously, "do you think there's a fellow in this crowd who'd take your word for anything? If you don't pay right now, then I won't stir a step for you."

Again tears of helpless rage formed in Hi's eyes. Amos Garwood stood looking on, unseeing. But Dick Prescott's thoughts were flying like lightning. He knew that, somehow, Garwood ought to be seized and held until the friends searching for him could be notified.



Chapter X

"BABBLING BUTT-IN"

"You fellows seem to think that everything is done when you get your own old duds back," complained Hi Martin angrily. "You don't seem to think that there's any need of doing anything for me."

"Why should we?" demanded Dick curtly. "You're the fellow who helped put up a job to hide our clothes. Now, you yell because you can't find your own."

"I'll go and get you some other clothes, whenever I'm paid for it in advance," Greg smilingly repeated his offer.

Dick's brain was busy with plans for holding Amos Garwood until the latter's father and friends could take charge of him.

"You're all the meanest lot!" protested Martin, tears of anger standing in his eyes.

"And you're the funniest fellow," mocked Tom. "To see a lot of sport in playing a trick on us, but howling like a dog with a can tied to his tail when you find yourself the only one stung by the joke."

"I'm going to leave here," Dick suddenly declared.

"Oh, I wish you would find my clothes and bring them to me," begged Hi.

"Come along, Greg. You, too, Dave. The rest wait here until we come back."

Dick shot a significant look at Tom Reade, then glanced covertly in Amos Garwood's direction. Reade understood and nodded.

"I don't really need or want you along with me, Dave," Dick murmured as soon as the three boys were out of sight of the others. "What I wanted was a chance to talk to you. Amos Garwood must be held, if necessary, until we can find some men to seize him and turn him over to the authorities. Be careful and tactful with him, but don't let him get away from you. The other fellows will help you, if necessary. I'm taking Greg with me, just so that Greg may run in one direction and I in another, in case we don't find help easily. But you get back and help Tom and the others. Of course you won't lay hands on Amos Garwood unless it becomes necessary, but in any case don't let him get away from you. Now, hurry back, for, if Garwood suspects, and shows fight, it will take all four of you to hold him. But if you all talk naturally and pleasantly, I don't believe he will be suspicious, or make any effort to get away."

Dave nodded, turning back, while Dick and Greg hastened to the road. Barely had they turned into the highway, when, a short distance, ahead, they espied a boy standing under a tree.

"There's Ted, and he has Martin's clothes with him," called Dick quietly. "Let's hurry up to him and get him to take the clothes back."

"A precious lot I care whether Hi Martin ever has any clothes again," Greg retorted.

"Oh, well, Greg, there's such a thing as a joke, and there's such a thing as carrying it too far. Hi Martin has had his dose of punishment already. We can afford to be decent and let up on him now. Hi, there, Ted!"

Teall looked as though uncertain whether to run or to stand.

"Don't be afraid, Ted," Dick called pleasantly. "A joke is all right, and we admit that it was on us."

So Ted, after a first start of suspicion, decided to remain where he was.

"Hi Martin sent you after his duds, I reckon?" inquired Ted as the other two boys ran up to him. All of Hi's apparel lay on the ground near Teall's feet.

"He certainly wanted some one to come," laughed Dick. "But, say, Teall, the thing has been rubbed in too hard. Run back with the things. You'll find all hands where you hid our things."

"And I'll find the crazy man there, too, maybe," ventured Teall. "Also, I'll run right into a gang that is just waiting to trim me. I thank you kindly, but if any one is to go back into that crowd with Hi's things, it will be some one else. I won't go—-too much regard for my health, you know."

"Greg, you carry Hi's clothes back," urged Dick. "I'll take Ted with me."

"I will not," flared Greg in open revolt.

"Be a good fellow," begged Dick.

"That's all right," grumbled Greg Holmes. "But I'm no valet to any North Grammar boy.

"If you fellows won't either of you do it," protested Dick, "I'll have to do it myself, and—-oh, dear! I'm in such a hurry to get help to take care of Garwood."

"What about that crazy man, anyway?" demanded Ted, his mouth agape with curiosity.

"I don't believe he's crazy at all, though he may perhaps be a little flighty in his head," Prescott answered. "At any rate, he isn't violent. There's no danger in him. Ted, won't you take back these——-"

Teall shook his head with vigor.

In the meantime four Grammar School boys had stationed themselves around Garwood, who stood under a tree chewing a blade of grass. Hi, either from modesty or humiliation, had retired into a clump of bushes.

"They've gone to find that boy who took the clothes, I suppose," remarked Amos Garwood, looking towards Dave Darrin. "That was a strange boy, a very nervous boy," continued Garwood aloud. "Just as soon as I told him my name, he turned and fled like a streak of lightning. I wonder what ailed him?"

"I wonder?" repeated Dave solemnly.

"And that boy said something else that made me very curious," went on Amos Garwood. "He said something about a crazy man. I almost thought he referred to me, though the boy himself was the only one who showed any signs of being crazy. What did he mean?"

"He hasn't told us," Dave rejoined.

But Hi, who felt that he was being shamefully used by the crowd, suddenly broke in with:

"If your name is Garwood, then Ted Teall meant that you're the one that's crazy. And I know where the boys have gone. They're not looking for my clothes at all. They're looking for constables to come and seize you!"

"You shut up, Hi Martin!" raged Tom Reade, making a dash at Hi's leafy screen.

But the harm was done. Amos Garwood changed color swiftly.

"Ha, ha! Ho, ho!" he laughed harshly. "I begin to understand now. But no one shall seize me. I won't let any one take me."

He started madly through the bushes, not seeking a path. Dan, who was nearest him as be passed, leaped and threw both arms around the man, bringing him to the ground. Dave leaped to aid Dalzell, nor was Hazelton long in getting to the spot. Tom Reade decided to defer the punishment of Martin, and went to the aid of his friends instead.

Though he had been downed swiftly, Garwood was almost as speedily on his feet, fighting desperately. Darrin he seized and hurled several feet into a thicket. Dalzell sought again to wind his arms around the fellow's legs, but was brushed aside as though he had been a fly.

Tom Reade received a blow against his right shoulder that sent him reeling away, while Hazelton, in trying to get a new hold, was boxed over his left ear in a way that seemed to make the earth revolve about him.

Hardly had the scrimmage started when Garwood was free.

"No one shall stop me, or hinder me!" cried Amos exultingly, then wheeled and raced through the forest.

After him, as soon as they could recover their faculties, dashed the Grammar School boys. For a minute or two they had him in sight. Then Garwood, on his long legs, sped ahead and out of sight. For another half minute they could hear the man's progress through the brush. After that all was so still that Darrin and the others halted, gazing perplexedly at each other.

"Where is he?" gasped Tom.

"Which way did he go?" breathed Dan.

Though they listened, neither sight nor sound now aided them.

"Of all the sneaks and trouble-makers!" cried Dave Darrin indignantly. "Hi Martin ought to be tied to a tree and switched until he can't see! He's a regular babbling butt-in."

"What good did it do him to meddle in that fashion?" burst from Reade. "The mean, worthless fellow! And we had plenty of reason to feel grateful to Colonel Garwood, Amos's father, after the handsome uniforms that were given us."

"It must have been Hi's reason for spoiling our plan," muttered Hazelton. "He didn't want us to be able really to earn the uniforms."

"Come on," urged Dave. "We mustn't lose a bit of time. If we spread out and keep on we may sight Garwood again."

"Huh!" muttered Reade. "If Garwood has gone right ahead at the speed with which be started, then he's in the next county by this time. We won't see him again to-day."

After a few minutes of searching the other boys came to the same conclusion.

"Out into the road, then," ordered Dave, who naturally took command when Prescott was absent. "We want to head off any men Dick may have found and tell 'em what has happened."

They turned, making rapidly for the road. As it happened, they came out near where Ted Teall stood guarding Hi's clothing.

"Have you seen Dick?" was Darrin's hail. "Yes; he and Holmesy have run down the road to get some men. Here they come now with the men," Ted answered, pointing.

Dick had had the good fortune to find help before going far. With such a reward as had been offered for the capture of Amos Garwood, it was not difficult to find men who could be interested in taking part in such a capture.

"What are you all doing here?" Dick yelled up the road.

"Garwood got away from us," Dave shouted back. "Hi Martin spoiled the game for us, and we simply couldn't hold Garwood."

Then Dick, Greg and the three men hurried up. Dave and Tom told the story.

"What a miserable hound Martin is!" burst from indignant Dick.

"So that boy spoiled us from getting a good slice of a fat reward, did he?" growled one of the three men. "Where is he?"

"Up in the woods," muttered Dick, "waiting until some one takes him his clothes. Ted Teall, you've simply got to return the booby's outfit to him."

"Won't do it," retorted Teall.

"But you took them away from him," Dick insisted.

"Suppose I did?"

"It may prove a serious matter, to steal any one's clothing," Prescott retorted. "And Hi Martin's father is a hot-tempered man. Ted, if I were in your place I don't believe I'd run the risk of being arrested. A joke is one thing, but keeping any one's clothes, after you've taken 'em, is proof of intention to steal. I don't believe I'd take the risk, if I were you."

The men were turning back down the road now, having decided to telephone the Gridley police and then turn out more men and go into the woods for an all-night search. Dick & Co. turned to go with the men.

"Say, you fellows," Ted called after them. "You going to shake me like that? Who's going back into the woods with me, if I take these clothes to Hi?"

"No one," Dick retorted over his shoulder. "You don't have to take the clothes back, you know, unless you happen to consider it safer to do it."

"Hang those fellows," sighed Ted, as be gazed after the retreating Dick & Co. "Well, I guess they've got me. The wise thing will be for me to take these duds to Hi before he catches cold."

So Ted gathered up the articles of apparel and with them started back into the woods.

"Hi, Hi!" he called, as be neared the thicket.

"Here," came an angry voice.

"Here's your old duds," growled Teall, as he reached the thicket that concealed young Martin, and threw the things on the ground.

"It's about time you brought 'em back," snapped Hi, making a dive for his belongings.

"I had a good mind not to do it at all," retorted Teall hotly.

"You'd have found yourself in hot water if you hadn't done it," Hi declared testily, as, having drawn on his underclothing, he seated himself to lace up his shoes. Then he rose and reached for his trousers.

"See here, Ted Teall," cried Hi suddenly, holding the trousers forward, "what did you do with my gold watch that was in the pocket of these trousers."

"I didn't see your old watch," grumbled Ted.

"Then you lost it out of the pocket while running through the woods, did you?" insisted Hi angrily.

Teall felt cold sweat come out on his neck and forehead. Well enough did he remember the gold watch, which was the envy of most of the schoolboys in Gridley. Nor was there any denying the fact that the watch was absent.

"Honest, Hi; honest," he faltered. "I didn't see the watch at all."

"You've got to find it, just the same," retorted Martin stubbornly. "If you take things away and lose them you've got to find them, or make good for them. Now, Mr. Smarty, I'm going home, and you're going to find the watch."

"Say, you might help a fellow and be decent about it," pleaded Ted.

"I didn't lose the watch, and I won't help you look for it," snapped back Hi Martin, as he strode away. "But if you aren't at my home with that gold watch before dark to-night, then you may look for things to happen to you! Find the watch, or wait and see what the law will do to you, Mr. Ted Smarty!"

Right on the spot Ted Teall started to look, a feeling of dull but intense misery gnawing in his breast.

"Oh, gracious! But now I've gone and done it!" groaned Teall, beginning to shake in his shoes. "Now, I'm in a whole peck and half of trouble, for I'll never be lucky enough to find that watch again!"



Chapter XI

TED FEELS THE FLARE-BACK

Ted didn't find the watch, nor did the men searchers get anywhere near a reliable trail of Amos Garwood.

As for Dick & Co., they aided in the search for a while, then went home to supper, feeling that they had done their present duty as well as boys might do it.

Ted Teall slunk home considerably after dark. Fortunately, as it happened, his parents didn't force him to tell his reason for being late, but Ted sat down to a supper that was cold and all but tasteless. However, Teall could find no fault with his supper. He was so full of misery that he didn't have the slightest idea what the meal was like.

"I wonder if I'd better run away from home before I'm arrested?" puzzled Ted, as he secured his hat and stole away from the house. "Br-r-r-r! I don't like the idea of being hauled up in court."

It finally occurred to him that, if the officers were on his track, the news would be known up in town.

"If I nose about Main Street, but keep myself out of sight, and keep my eyes peeled for trouble," reflected wretched Ted, "I may find out something that will show me how to act."

So to Main Street Ted slowly made his way, keeping an alert lookout all the time for trouble in the form of a policeman.

At one corner Ted suddenly gasped, feeling his legs give way under him. By a supreme effort of will he mastered his legs in time to dart into a dark doorway.

"Huh! But that was a lucky escape for me," Teall gasped, as he came out from the doorway, peering down the street after the retreating form of Hi Martin's father. "I guess he's out looking for me. He'll want his son's gold watch. Crackey! I wonder if folks will think I'm low enough down to steal a fellow's watch?"

If Teall was rough, he was none the less honest, and had all of an honest boy's sensitive horror of being thought guilty of theft.

"Yet the matter stands just this way," Ted reflected as he moped along. "The watch must have been in the trousers when I snatched 'em up, and the watch wasn't there when I returned the trousers. What will folks naturally think? Oh, I wonder if there ever was as unlucky a fellow in the world before?"

A great lump formed in Ted's throat as he puzzled over this problem.

"Hello, Teall!" called a hearty voice. "Was Hi much obliged when you gave him back his duds this afternoon?"

Dick Prescott was the speaker, and with him were his five chums.

"Nothing like it," muttered Ted, turning as the boys came up. "Say, something awful happened to-day, and I'm in a peck of trouble!"

"Tell us about it," urged Tom Reade.

Ted started to tell them, mournfully.

"I don't believe a word of that, Ted," Dick broke in energetically.

"I'm telling you just as it happened," Teall protested.

"Oh, I guess you are, all right. But I don't believe Hi had his watch with him. If he had had it, he would have worn a chain or a fob, and I didn't see any, did you, fellows?"

"If I thought he had fooled me——-" muttered Ted vengefully. Then, with a change of feeling, he continued:

"But I don't believe he was fooling me. Hi was too mad, and he looked as though he'd like nothing better than to see me get into big trouble over it."

"You went all over the ground where you'd been?" Dick asked.

"Must have gone over it seventeen times," Ted declared positively. "I didn't quit looking until it was so dark that my eyes ached with the strain. But not one sight did I catch of the watch."

"Don't worry any more about it, Teall," urged Dave Darrin. "Like Dick, I don't believe, for an instant, that Hi had his watch with him."

"Here comes Hi now, out of the ice cream place," whispered Greg.

Young Martin certainly didn't look much worried as he gained the street. For a few seconds he looked about him. He saw Dick & Co. and scowled. Then he caught sight of Ted, despite the latter's trying to shrink behind Reade.

"See here, Teall, did you find my watch?" demanded Hi, stepping over to the group. His manner was aggressive, even threatening.

"N-n-no," stammered Ted.

"Then I don't believe you looked for it," insisted Hi.

"Didn't I, though? Until after dark," Ted rejoined.

"Then why didn't you find it?"

"Because I didn't happen to see it—-that was the only reason," Teall retorted.

"There may have been another reason," observed Hi Martin dryly.

"Do you mean to say that I tried to steal it?" flared Ted, now ready to fight.

"How do I know?" Hi asked.

"If I thought you meant that——-"

"Well?" asked Hi Martin, gazing coolly into the flashing eyes.

"You know better!" choked Teall.

"Of course you know better, Hi Martin," Dick broke in. "Ted Teall isn't any more of a thief than you are."

"You fellows have no share in this matter," Hi retorted coldly. "I'll thank you to keep out, and to mind your own business."

A little way down the street Hi caught sight of his father approaching. He turned to Ted to inquire:

"You say that you looked faithfully for my watch until dark?"

"Yes; I did," Ted shot back at him.

"And you didn't find the watch?"

"No, sirree; I didn't."

"Oh, well, then," drawled Hi, "I guess—-"

Grinning broadly, he thrust a hand in under his clothing, drawing out his gold watch.

"I guess," Hi continued, "that it's time now to quit looking. It's quarter of nine. Good night!"

At sight of that watch Ted Teall's eyes bulged. Then the nature of the outrage dawned on him. In a moment all his pent-up emotions took the form of intense indignation.

"You mean fellow!" hissed Ted, his fists clenching. "You——-"

"Teall, when you play jokes," warned Martin coolly, "you always want to be sure to look out for the flare-back. Don't forget that. Good evening, father!"

Hi slipped off by the side of his parent just in time for Ted to slow down and realize that he couldn't very well thrash Hi with the elder Martin looking on.

Tom and Greg began to laugh.

"Oh, cheer up, Ted," Dick smiled. "All's well that ends well, you know."

"But this matter isn't ended yet," cried Ted Teall excitedly, shaking his fist at Hi Martin's receding back. "It isn't ended—-no, sir!—-not by a long shot!"



Chapter XII

THE NORTH GRAMMAR CAPTAIN GRILLED

Nor was Teall long in finding his opportunity to be revenged.

On the following Tuesday, immediately after school, the North and South Grammar nines met on the field. It was an important meeting, for, under the rules governing the Gridley Grammar League, whichever of these two teams lost, having been twice defeated, was to retire vanquished; the victor in this game was to meet the Central Grammar to contest for the championship.

On the toss Captain Ted Teall won, and elected that his side go to bat forthwith.

The instant that Ted stepped to the plate a score of North Grammar fans yelled:

"Bang!"

From another group of Norths came:

"Ow-ow-ow!" This was followed by some fantastic jumping.

"Huh! Those fellows don't show much brains!" uttered Teall wearily. "They have to steal a josh from the Centrals."

It did not annoy Ted to-day. He had expected this greeting, and had steeled himself against it.

Dick & Co., with a lot of other fellows from Central Grammar, looked on in amusement.

"It's a pity one of Hi's fellows hasn't ingenuity enough to work up a new 'gag,'" Tom remarked dryly.

"They'll never rattle Teall again with a 'bang,'" smiled Prescott.

When the Souths went to grass, however, and the Norths took to the benches, all was in readiness for Hi, who came forth third on the batting list. The first two men had been struck out.

"Come on in!" yelled a dozen tormentors from South Grammar onlookers. "The water's fine!"

In spite of himself Hi frowned. He had been expecting something, but had hoped that the events of the preceding Saturday afternoon would be left out.

Hi made a swing for the ball, and missed.

"Who's seen my duds?" went up a mighty shout.

"Confound the hoodlums!" hissed Martin between his teeth.

As mascot, the Souths had brought along a small colored boy, who attended to a pail of lemonade for the refreshment of Ted's players. Ere the ball came over the plate a second time this mascot was seen running close to the foul lines. Over one arm he carried jacket and trousers; in the other hand he bore a pair of shoes and of socks. That the clothing was patched and the shoes looked fit only for a tramp's use did not disguise the meaning of the scene from any beholder, for the news of that Saturday afternoon had traveled through the school world of Gridley.

"Cheer up, suh!" shrieked the colored boy shrilly. "I'se bringing yo' duds!"

Then the ball came from the box, but Hi was demoralized by the roar of laughter that swept over the field.

A moment later the rather haughty captain of the North Grammar nine had been struck out and retired. His face was red, his eyes flashing.

"Teall, we might expect something rowdyish from your crowd of muckers," declared Martin scornfully, as the sides changed.

"If I were you, Martin, I wouldn't do much talking to-day," grinned Ted. "It's bad for the nerves."

A half a dozen times thereafter the colored boy was seen scurrying with "the duds." He took good care, however, to keep away from the foul lines, and so did not come under the orders of the umpire.

Whenever the mascot appeared with his burden he raised a laugh. Hi could not steel himself against a combination of anger and hurt pride. Some of the North Grammar girls in whose eyes he was anxious to stand well were among those who could not help laughing at the ridiculous antics of the colored lad.

Toward the close of the first half of the third inning Teall again came to bat. There were no men out in this inning, and two men were on bases.

"Now we'll see how you will stand a little jogging," muttered Hi under his breath as he crossed his hands in signal to some of the North Grammar fans.

Just as Ted picked up his bat a dozen boys squeaked:

"What time is it?"

This was followed by:

"Who stole my watch?"

Another lot of North tormentors—-those who had them—-displayed time pieces.

"That's almost as bad as a stale one," Ted told himself scornfully.

Just then the ball came just where Teall wanted it.

Crack! Ted hit it a resounding blow, dropped his bat and started to run. Amid a din of yells one of the Souths came in, another reached third and Ted himself rested safely at second base.

In that inning the Souths piled up five runs. Thereafter the game went badly for the North Grammars, for most of the players lost their nerve. Hi, himself, proved unworthy to be captain, he had so little head left for the game. The contest ended with a score of nine to two in favor of the South Grammars.

"That will be about all for the Norths," remarked Ted, with a cheerful grin, as be met Hi Martin at the close of the game. "Your nine doesn't play any more, I believe."

"I'm glad we don't," choked Hi. "There's no satisfaction being in a league in which the other teams are made up of rowdies."

"It is tough," mocked Ted. "Especially when the rowdies are the only fellows who know how to play ball."

Hi stalked away in moody, but dignified silence. Yet, though he could ignore the players and sympathizers of other nines, it was not so easy to get away from the grilling of his own schoolmates.

"Huh!" remarked one North boy. "You told us, Martin, that you'd prove to us the benefit of having a real captain for a nine. Why didn't you?"

"Martin, you're all wind," growled another keenly disappointed North. "You talked a lot about what you'd do with the nine—-and what have you done? Left us the boobies of the league. We're the winners of the leather medal."

"Why didn't you play yourself, then?" snarled Hi.

"I wish I had. But we Norths were fooled by the talk you gave us about how baseball really ought to be played and managed. You're the school's mascot, you are, Hi Martin. Not!"

In the meantime Dick Prescott was being surrounded by anxious Central Grammar boys.

"Dick," said one of them, while others listened eagerly, "you beat the Norths. But you didn't give them any such drubbing as the Souths did to-day. Are they a better nine than ours?"

"No," Prescott answered promptly.

"Yet they whipped the Norths worse than we did. Can we down the Souths?"

"Yes," nodded Prescott.

"Why can we?"

"For the simplest reason in the world, Tolman. We've got to. Isn't that a fine reason?"

"It sounds fine," remarked another boy doubtfully. "But can you whip another crowd just because you want to?"

"If you want to badly enough," Dick smiled.

"Hm! I'll be surer about that when I see it done."

"It'll happen next Friday afternoon, if rain doesn't call the game," Prescott promised.

"What do you say to that, Darrin?" demanded another Central boy.

"Just what Dick said."

"What's your word, Tom!"

"You heard what our captain said," Reade laughed. "I always follow orders. If Dick Prescott tells me to pile up seven runs against the Souths I'm going to do it."

"I hope you do," murmured another boy. "Yet it seems against us—-after the way we saw the Souths play to-day."

"Or rather," added Dick quietly, "the way the North Grammars didn't play. They'd have put up a lot better game if their captain hadn't lost his nerve and his head."

As the Central Grammar boys left, most of them in one crowd, there was a rather general feeling that Dick was just a bit too confident. Or, was he simply "putting it on," in order to bolster up the courage of his players?

Dick Prescott, at least, was qualified to know what he really expected. He really was confident of victory in the game that should decide the league championship.

"If you feel that you can't be beaten, and won't be beaten, but that you've got to win and are going to win, then that's more than half the points of a game won in advance," he told his chums. "Fellows, in baseball or anything else, we won't say die, either now or at any later time in life. We'll make it our rule to ride right over anything that gets in our way. That way we can't know defeat."

"Unless, finally, we ride to our deaths," laughed Tom.

"What of it?" challenged Dick. "That wouldn't be defeat. The man who rides to death in the search for victory has won. He has carried the winning spirit with him to the very finish. Or else the history we've been studying at school is all a mess of lies."

"There's a lot in that idea," nodded Dave thoughtfully.

"There's more in it every time that you think of it," Dick contended.

Thus Dick was starting, in Dick & Co., the never-give-up spirit which made them almost invincible later as High School boys.

Wednesday and Thursday were days filled with eagerness for the Central Grammar boys. The members of the baseball squad were not by any means the only ones on tenterhooks. Every boy in the upper grades of the school was waiting impatiently to learn who would be the winners of the championship.

Somewhat to the astonishment of the Central Grammar boys Captain Dick, on Wednesday afternoon, gave his team only a brief half hour of diamond practice. Thursday afternoon they didn't play at all. Instead, the nine and its subs. went off on a tramp through the woods.

"What we want to-morrow above all," Dick explained, as he marshaled his forces, "is steady nerves. There's nothing like a good walk in the cool and shady spots for tuning up a schoolboy's nerves for an ordeal. A walk is good whether you're facing an exam. or a championship game."

"May the rest of us go with you!" called one of the Central boys outside the squad.

"We can't stop you," Dick replied, "but we'd rather you let the ball squad go by itself."

"All right, then," cried three or four. The fourteen of the squad marched away, unhampered by any followers.

Once outside the town and halted under a grove of trees, Dick turned to his teammates.

"Fellows," he said quietly, "I believe some of you have been anxious to know what the man on the clubhouse steps said."

"It's coming, at last!" gasped Tom Reade. "Well, let us hear what the man on the clubhouse steps said. It must be one of the choice pieces of wisdom of all the ages."

"It is," Dick replied quietly.

"Then let us hear shouted Dave.

"Not now," Prescott answered, shaking his head solemnly. "But, fellows, you win to-morrow's game and you shall all hear just what the man on the clubhouse steps said."

"Win?" retorted Tom Reade. "Dick Prescott, with a bribe like that before us, we're bound to win! We couldn't do anything else."

Then they went further into the woods. Dick had brought his players here in search of peace, quiet and nerve rest. Had he had even one prophetic glimpse of what was ahead of some of them that afternoon it would have been far better to have remained in town.



Chapter XIII

"BIG INJUN—-HEAP BIG NOISE"

"Say, we don't want to just go on walking. There's no fun in that," objected Spoff Henderson.

"We're out for rest more than for fun," Dick replied. "The walk and the rest this afternoon are all by way of preparing for the big game to-morrow afternoon."

"But wouldn't there be more rest about it if we had a little fun?" Spoff insisted.

"Perhaps," Dick nodded. "What's your idea of fun?"

"Why not play 'Indians and Whites'?" put in Toby Ross eagerly.

"That would be just the sort of game for to-day," Dave approved.

"That's what I say," nodded Tom.

"Dick, you're used to these woods," Spoff went on. "You be the big Injun—-the big chief. Choose two more of the fellows to be Injuns with you, and the rest will be whites."

"All right," nodded Dick. "Dave and Tom can go with me. Who'll be your captain?"

"Greg!" cried Spoff.

"Holmesy," said Ross in the same breath.

So Greg Holmes was chosen captain, to command the whites.

"Give us the full six minutes, Greg, won't you?" Dick called, as he and his two fellow "Injuns" prepared to enter the deep woods.

"Of course I will," Greg nodded. "You don't think I'd cheat, do you?"

Those of the boys who were proud owners of watches hurriedly consulted their timepieces. Greg retained his in his hand.

"Now," called Dick, and away he started, followed by Braves Darrin and Reade.

As the Gridley boys had their own version of "Indians and Whites," a description of the game may as well be given here.

The Indians always chose a chief, the whites a captain. Chief and braves started away at the call of time. Six minutes later, to the second, the whites started in pursuit. The whites must keep in one band, as must also the Indians. Yet, in trailing, the whites could spread out, while the Indians must keep together.

Though the Indians were allowed to double on the trail, they were not permitted to run. Nothing faster than an ordinary walk was permitted to them, unless they found themselves sighted by the whites.

Moreover, owing to the lack of skill on the part of the whites in following a trail, the Indians were required to walk as usual, making no special efforts to hide their footprints.

The whites were permitted to pursue at any gait. If they sighted the Indians, then they were expected to yell by way of warning. If more than half the Indians were captured before the expiration of an hour from the first departure of the Indians, then the whites won. Otherwise the Indians were victors.

Dick walked in advance, Dave and Tom side by side just behind him.

"We must try to think up some way to fool the fellows," muttered Reade.

"Halt!" warned Dick, when they were barely two minutes away from the starting point.

Darrin and Reade stopped in their tracks.

"See that low-hanging limb, and the bushes just beyond?" asked young Prescott.

"Of course," assented Dave.

"We'll go on about a minute further," suggested Dick, who had kept his watch in hand from the outset. "Then we'll walk backward, stop here, grab that limb and swing ourselves over past the bushes. That ought to throw the fellows off the track and get 'em all mixed up."

"If the whites are spread enough they'll probably be outside those bushes," remarked Reade. "Then they'll find where the trail changes."

"That's one of the chances that we have to take," smiled Dick. "Let's see if we can't make it work."

Onward again they went, halting when Prescott gave the word. Walking backward, they were soon at the oak with the low-hanging limb.

"I'll try it first," proposed Dick, "and see if it's easy enough. Don't walk around here and make enough tracks to call the attention of the whites to the fact that we stopped here."

Dick made a bound, catching the limb fairly. Three or four times he swung himself back and forth, until he had gained enough momentum. Then he let go, on the last swing, landing on his feet well behind the bushes. Dave came next, Tom following. Now the three Indians hurried on again, Big Injun Dick in the lead as before.

"If we do throw them off, Greg's fighting men will have a hard job hitting the trail again," chuckled Tom.

"If they don't find our trail, Dick, where are you headed for?" whispered Dave.

"For the road and home," laughed Dick. "Then, while they're trying to figure out where we've gone, we fellows will be washing up for supper."

"I'd like to hear Old Greg grumbling if the 'double' does throw 'em off the trail altogether," grinned Darrin. "Dick, I think we've more than half a chance to get away."

"We have about four chances out of five of slipping away from Greg's soldiers," predicted Prescott.

For ten minutes Dick and his two braves plodded on. There were, as yet, no audible sounds of pursuit.

"We caught 'em, surely enough, that time," chuckled Tom. "Going to hit for the road now, Dick?"

"We can't reach the road until our hour is up; we're bound to keep to the woods," Prescott replied. "However, you'll note that I am taking a course that will gradually lead us to the road."

"Right-o," nodded Reade, after taking a look at their surroundings. All the members of Dick & Co. had spent so much of their time in the woods that they knew every foot of the way.

"I wonder where that valiant band of whites is, anyway?" muttered Dave. "I haven't heard a sound of them."

"You may hear their battle yell any minute," Dick whispered. "Be careful not to talk loudly enough to give them any clue."

For two or three minutes more Dick led the way. Of a sudden he halted—-right up against a huge surprise. For the boys had suddenly broken into a little circular clearing, not much more than thirty feet in diameter. Near the center of this clearing, under a flimsy shelter he had made of poles and branches, crouched Amos Garwood. He was at work over a low bench built of a board across two boxes. So intent was Garwood on what he was doing that he appeared not to have heard the approach of the boys.

Dick Prescott stood looking on, one hand raised as a signal for the silence of those behind him. But both Dave and Tom had caught sight of the stranger at about the same instant.

"If any who know me have hinted that my brain is not strong enough," muttered Garwood, whose back was turned to the startled Grammar School boys, "there is bound to be a great awakening when my wonderful invention is perfected. Then the world will bow down to me, for I shall be its master."

"Crazy as a porous plaster!" muttered Tom Reade under his breath.

"It will be a new, a strange sensation," continued Garwood, speaking just loud enough to be heard by the onlookers. "A great sensation, too, to be master of the world when, during these present dark days, I am compelled to run and hide for fear envious scientists will succeed in capturing me and locking me up."

"I wonder what he thinks he's doing there?" pondered Dick curiously.

"To think that a few grains of this wonderful substance would pulverize a regiment!" continued Garwood, in an inventor's ecstasy. "An ounce of this wonderful material enough to blow up an army corps. A single pound sufficient to bring the nations of the world to my feet in awed homage. And I can make a hundred pounds a day of it! Oh, that I could reach other worlds, to make them feel my mastery!"

"If his stuff is as good as he thinks it is, I certainly hope he won't shoot off any of it accidentally," thought Prescott, with an odd little shiver.

"Oh, that I dared trust my secret to one or two others!" murmured Garwood, as he delved with one hand into one of the boxes that supported his simple bench. "And now for the great finishing touch!"

Amos Garwood placed on the board a fairsized wide-mouthed bottle. From where he stood, Dick could read the label on the bottle—- "Potassium Chlorate—-crystals."

"Chlorate of potash?" thought Dick. "That's what Dr. Bentley gave me once for sore throat."

Dick, however, was soon to get an inkling of a suspicion that chlorate of potash might be used to serve other purposes.

As the mentally queer inventor reached into the box for that bottle, the three silent, observing "Injuns" saw that Garwood had on the crude table before him a glass mortar and pestle, the former of about two quarts' capacity.

In this mortar lay a quantity of powdered stuff, which Garwood had evidently been grinding before their arrival. Now he poured out a heaping handful of the chlorate crystals, dropping them on top of the mixture in the mortar.

"A few turns—-a little more fatigue of the wrist—-and I am the world's master—-its owner!" cried Garwood exultantly.

"Ker-choo!" sneezed Tom Reade at the worst possible moment.

Amos Garwood turned like a flash, tottering to his feet.

"Spies! Traitors! Ingrates!" he gasped in hoarse terror.

"Nothing at all like it," Dick replied, with a pleasant smile. "Mr. Garwood, we boys are playing in these woods. If we've meddled with your affairs you'll pardon us, and let us pass on, won't you?"

"Didn't you try to find me here?" demanded Garwood, suspicious still.

"I give you my word of honor that we didn't, sir," answered Dick. "Until a moment ago we hadn't any idea that you were within fifty miles of this spot. You see, sir, we're playing Indians and whites. We're the big Injuns, even if we don't look it. And behind us, somewhere on our trail, is Captain Greg Holmes, with a company of his brave soldiers, trailing us relentlessly."

"Soldiers?" quivered Amos Garwood, his face going ashen. Then his face suddenly took on a look of intense exultation. "Soldiers?" he repeated. "It couldn't be better. It is on soldiers that my amazing discovery should be proved. But I waste time—-and loss of time may be fatal to all my plans. A few turns, and my discovery is ready. I can then defy whole armies, if necessary!"

Sweeping the mortar around within reach, so that he could work and watch the Grammar School boys at the same time, Amos Garwood began to grind his pestle into the mixture with feverish energy.

Then all of a sudden the very earth shook and rocked. Big Injun Prescott and his two braves were in the center of the biggest explosion they had ever heard!



Chapter XIV

"CRAZY AS A POROUS PLASTER"

It was terrific, and yet the only effect on the bench on which the mortar lay was to knock the board sideways from the boxes. The mortar became as powder itself, though not a splinter was raised from the wood.

From the lips of Amos Garwood a fearful yell went up. He plunged headlong a few feet, then lay on the ground, feebly nursing his right hand with his left.

As for Dick, Dave and Tom, their ears rang with the noise until they felt as though surely their ear-drums had been ruptured by the force of that awesome detonation.

An instant later all was quiet. Dick and his chums speedily realized that they had escaped actual injury, yet their legs shook so that they could hardly stand.

"Wh—-wh—-what was it?" asked Reade in accents that quivered in unison with his trembling legs.

"See here, fellows, we mustn't be fools," Dick cried chidingly. "We're not hurt, and Mr. Garwood is. Let's see what we can do for him."

"Do for me, will you?" groaned the injured one. "No, you won't. You boys keep your distance from me, or you're going to be worse scared than you are already. Don't imagine that I'm helpless, for I'm not. In me you behold the master of the world!"

"Confound him, I've a good mind to go away and let him have the world to himself," muttered Reade.

But Dick and Dave had already started toward the spot where Amos lay. The man scrambled to his feet, the old, hunted look coming into his eyes.

"You keep away from me!" he screamed. "Get away! Clear out! I don't want to hurt you. I wouldn't harm a fly. But I'm not going to allow any one near me!"

Dick ventured too near. Garwood swung his uninjured arm so unexpectedly that Prescott had no chance to get out of the way. He fell flat on the ground. Warned by the light in the eye of the world's master, Dick believed it prudent to roll several yards before be tried to get up.

"Say," blazed Darrin indignantly. "Are you going to stand for that?"

"Don't excite him," murmured Prescott in an undertone. "The poor fellow isn't responsible for what he's doing. And I'd fight, too, if I thought any one was trying to seize me."

"I'm sorry if I had to hurt you," said Amos Garwood in a milder tone. "But I allow no one to come near me. I have too many enemies —-so many who are jealous of me that I can trust no one."

"He isn't really dangerous, poor fellow," whispered Prescott to his companions.

"No, though he has a habit of blowing up suddenly," muttered Reade. "He did the same thing once before, you'll remember, at the old water-works cottage."

"Are we going to try to catch the fellow this time?" Darrin whispered.

"Yes," nodded Dick. "We ought to, both for his father's sake and his own."

"What do you say, then, if we all three rush him?" pressed Darrin.

"It would be mean," Dick retorted in an undertone. "The poor fellow might be tempted to use his injured hand. And you can see how it's burned. I don't wonder. You saw how the flame of the explosion leaped all over that arm. It's a wonder it didn't set him afire."

"Are you boys going to leave me," inquired Garwood, "or are you going to remain and thus show me that you are truly of my enemies?"

"You slip back into the woods, Tom," whispered Dick. "See if you can find Greg and the other fellows. If you can, bring them up quickly."

Dave and I'll stay here, unless Garwood moves away. If he does, Darry and I will follow him. If you hear any war whoops, come running in that direction, you and the other fellows. You'll know that the whoop means that we need you."

"I hate to leave you two with him," muttered Reade reluctantly. "If this world-boss gets violent you two won't be enough for him."

"We can get out of the way, if we have to," Dick rejoined. "But hurry, Tom. We need a lot of the fellows, for we ought to seize this poor fellow and get him into town, even if only that be may have proper attention for his burned hand and arm. Hustle. You'll help me more in that way than in any other."

Thus urged, Tom turned and vanished into the forest behind the others.

"Why do you stay here?" demanded Amos Garwood fretfully. "I don't want to injure you, boys; but if you belong to my enemies, then I shall be forced to hurt you. Run away before I lose my temper. I am always sorry afterwards when I have lost my temper."

The flash in the man's eyes made both boys feel "creepy." Thin as he was, there was about him, none the less, a suggestion of great strength and force when put in action.

"We have a right to stay in the woods, Mr. Garwood," Dick answered. "I don't want to seem impudent, either, but I would suggest that if you don't like to be with us here, then there are other parts of the forest that you can find."

As Dick spoke he swung one arm, pointing artfully to the woods in the direction that Tom Reade had gone, and where it was believed that Greg and his followers were searching.

"If that's the way you want me to go," smiled Amos Garwood darkly, "then I believe I'll go in the opposite direction. And, young men, it won't be wise for you to attempt to follow me!"

With that hint he started. Dick and Dave waited until they could see only the top of his head. Then they started on his trail.

For an instant Amos Garwood was out of sight. Then, with a suddenness that startled both trailers, Garwood stepped out from behind a tree and right into their path.

"I cautioned you both," he announced sharply. "I shall not go to that trouble again. Keep away from me. Never mind where I am going, or what I am going to do."

Then a spasm of pain shot across the poor fellow's face. Calm as he tried to keep himself, it was plain that his burned hand and arm were causing him great suffering.

"Won't you come with us," pleaded Dick, "and get that arm of yours attended to? We'll take you to the right place."

"To the right place?" mocked Garwood harshly. "Right into the camp of my enemies, I suppose? Among those who deride my great invention, and yet who would capture me and steal my wonderful discovery from me. Boys, I have already told you that if you follow me, you will follow me to grave harm. Beware in time. Run! Leave me! Or your fates be on your own heads, for I am master of the world and can force you to obey me!"

As Garwood spoke the last words another change crossed his face. He reached into an inner coat pocket.

"You will not obey me," he remarked. "Therefore, I must act to save myself and my great discovery. 'Tis as you would have it!"

"Duck!" gasped Dave Darrin, seizing Dick by one arm. "He means big mischief!"

What it was for which he had reached in his pocket neither Grammar School boy saw, for both turned at the same instant, beating a swift retreat. Sixty feet away, however, they halted, wheeling about.

Garwood, seeing the boys run, acted as though he would give them no further thought. He was already walking in the opposite direction, his back turned to them.

"Ugh! He gives me cold chills," cried Darrin.

"He does the same to me," sighed Dick, "but it's a plain case of duty to follow him until we can turn him over to those who'll take good care of the poor fellow."

Just as Amos Garwood was on the point of vanishing from their view, the two schoolboys started forward, more cautiously than before.

Back of them in the woods, far away, sounded a boyish war-whoop.

"Hi-yi-yi-yi-yoop!" answered Dave Darrin.

Amos Garwood started forward with a bound like that of a deer. Then his long legs went into rapid operation. Prescott and Darrin ran onward as fast as they could go. They were trained to running, too, but this "master of the world" set them a pace that no fourteen-year-old boys on earth could have followed with any hope of success.

"Whoop, but he's an airship for speed!" gasped Dave Darrin.

"We couldn't catch him with a locomotive," confessed Dick, when, panting, he was at last obliged to halt.

"Hear him—-going," gasped Darrin.

"I can't hear him," confessed Dick, after a moment of listening.

"That's just the point. He has gotten so far away that we can't hear him crashing through the undergrowth."

"I'm afraid we won't catch up with him again to-day," sighed Dick.

"The folks who are trying to catch Amos Garwood are foolish in sending detectives to look for him," muttered Dave. "They ought to hire professional sprinters."

Away at their rear sounded a fainter whoop.

"Answer the fellows, Dave," urged Prescott.

"I will—-when I get some wind," muttered Darrin.

Three times more Greg and his fellows whooped before Dick could get together enough wind to make his voice travel. Greg repeated the hail, and again Dick answered. After a few minutes the other Grammar School boys caught up with Dick and his friend, who told to the new-comers the story of the encounter with Amos Garwood.

"Get away from you again?" asked Tom blankly.

"I don't believe we'll ever chase that streak of light again," growled Dave. "I don't feel as though I'd ever be able to run again. Amos Garwood can walk faster than any of us can run."

"The most that we can do at present," Prescott concluded, will be to notify Lawyer Ripley or Chief Coy that we've seen the Garwood flyer again."

"I wish we could catch him," sighed Torn, while Greg nodded.

"You two can have the next chance," smiled Dick. "As for me, I am certain that I can never catch Amos Garwood unless he and I happen to be running toward each other."

"All in favor of supper," proposed Dan Dalzell, glancing at his watch, "say 'aye' and turn homeward."

"But shan't we try, for a while, to trail Garwood?" queried Greg.

"What's the use?" cross-questioned Dick disconsolately. "We might sight him, but we'd never catch him. Nor do I believe he has stopped running yet."

"If he hasn't," grumbled Dave, "he's twenty miles from here by this time."

So Dan's motion prevailed. The baseball squad of the Central Grammar School turned toward the road that led homeward.



Chapter XV

BLUFFING UP TO THE BIG GAME

"That explosion was fearful, what there was of it," Dick declared to Chief Coy. It was evening, and the head of the local police department had stopped the boys on the street for additional information on the subject.

"What did it look like?" asked Chief Coy.

"There came a big flash and a loud bang in the same instant, and Mr. Garwood was hurled over on his side. The queer part of it was that the explosion didn't do any real damage to the bench, though there wasn't a piece of the glass mortar left that was big enough to see."

"The explosion all went upward. It didn't work sideways or downward?" asked Chief Coy.

"That's the way we saw it," Dick replied. "And it didn't hurt either you or Darrin?"

"Not beyond the big scare, and the shock to our ear-drums."

"I wonder what the explosive could have been?" mused the chief aloud.

"I don't know what was in the mortar in the first place, sir," Dick Prescott went on. "All Amos Garwood put in the mortar after we got there was some chlorate of potash. Then he put the pestle in and began to grind."

"And then the explosion happened?" followed up Chief Coy.

"Chlorate of potash, eh?" broke in a local druggist, who had halted and was listening. "Hm! If Garwood ground that stuff with a pestle, then it doesn't much matter what else was in the mortar!"

"Is the chlorate explosive, sir?" questioned Dick.

"Is it?" mimicked the druggist. "When I first started in to learn the drug business it was a favorite trick to give an apprentice one or two small crystals of chlorate to grind in a mortar. After a lot of accidents, and after a few drug clerks had been send to jail for playing the trick it became played out in drug stores."

"But I've seen powdered chlorate of potash," interposed Tom Reade, who was always in search of information.

"Yes," admitted the druggist. "I can show you, at my store, about ten pounds of the powdered chlorate."

"Then how do they get it into a powder, sir?" pressed Tom. "Do the manufacturers grind it between big millstones?"

"If any ever did," laughed the druggist, "they never remained on earth long enough to tell about it. A few pounds of the chlorate, crushed between millstones, would blow the roof off of the largest mill you ever saw!"

"But what makes the stuff so explosive?" queried Prescott.

"I don't know whether I can make you understand it," the druggist replied. "Potassium chlorate is extremely 'rich' in oxygen, and it is held very loosely in combination. When a piece of the chlorate is struck a hard blow it sets the oxygen free, and the gas expands so rapidly that the explosion follows."

On the outskirts of the little crowd stood a new-comer, Ted Teall, who was drinking in every word that the druggist uttered. Dick saw him and felt a sudden start of intuition.

"See here, Teall," Dick called, "you needn't pick that up as a pointer for the way to serve me with a home-made ball at our game to-morrow. The trick I played on you wasn't dangerous, but this chlorate racket is. Mr. Johnson, what would happen if a fellow should hit a ball with his bat, and that ball was packed with chlorate of potash?"

"I'm not sure that the fellow with the bat would ever know what happened," answered the druggist.

"Is it as bad as that?" gasped Teall.

"Worse," replied the druggist grimly.

"So, Teall, if you had any thoughts of playing a trick like that," interposed Chief Coy, "take my word for it that such a trick would be likely to land you in a reform school until you were at least twenty-one years old."

"Oh, if it's as bad as that——-" muttered Ted reluctantly.

"What did you and Darry say, when the explosion came off?" asked Dan Dalzell, as Dick & Co. walked on again.

"I don't remember just what Darry said," Prescott confessed reluctantly. "As for me, I remember just what I said."

"What?"

"I said just what the man on the clubhouse steps said."

"And what was that?" pressed Dalzell.

"That's what you're going to find out if you win the game from South Grammar to-morrow."

"Then the game is as good as won already," declared Tom solemnly, "for we're in that frame of mind where we've got to know what the man on the clubhouse steps said."

Through the evening, and the long night that followed, Chief Coy had two of his policemen out searching the woods where Garwood had last been seen. Mr. Winthrop added three detectives to the chase. When morning came the "queer" inventor was still at large. He had not even been seen since Dick and Dave had lost sight of him.

"The last time that I put this class on honor," announced Old Put, when the morning session began, "we had one of the best records of good behavior during the day that I can remember. I will, therefore, announce that this class is on honor again to-day, and that, no matter what the breaches of discipline, no pupil will be kept after school to-day. All will be allowed to go and see the great, the glorious game."

Then, after a pause, Old Dut added dryly:

"I haven't the heart to keep any one after school to-day. I am going to the game myself."

At this statement a laugh rippled around the room. Then every boy and girl settled down to the serious business of the day.

At three o'clock Old Put announced:

"If Captain Prescott so desires, he may withdraw now with his team, in order to have time to dress and get oiled up on the diamond."

"I thank you, sir, for that permission," responded Dick, rising at once. He was followed by the other players.

"Go out a little more quietly, if you please—-that's all," called Old Dut.

On tiptoe the members of the squad stole upstairs to the exhibition hall. There they quickly got into their uniforms, next stowing their street clothing in a closet, the key of which the principal had supplied to Captain Dick Prescott.

In thoughtful silence Dick led his small host from the schoolhouse to the diamond. When they had halted by the benches Dick began:

"Now, fellows, each of you keep steadily in mind what we have at stake this afternoon."

"Yes, sirree!" grinned Dan Dalzell. "If we win to-day we're going to learn what the man on the clubhouse steps said."

"To-day's victory gives one school or the other the championship of the Gridley Grammar School League," Dick declared.

"Oh, that's a side issue, entirely," retorted Tom gravely. "What we're really burning about is to know what the man on the clubhouse steps said."

"Are we going to pitch in to practice now?" asked Greg.

"You fellows can, if you want to, but don't go at it too hard," replied Captain Dick.

"If you didn't want to practice, what were you in such a hurry to get out of school for?" demanded Holmes.

"Because I felt that we had been in school about as long as we could stand on the day of the championship game," laughed Prescott.

"Wise captain," approved Darrin.

They had not been on the field many minutes when a whoop sounded near at hand that caused the boys to look with surprise.

"Here come the Souths!" called Dave. "They must have been let out early, too."

"Hello!" hailed Captain Teall. "You fellows are here early, but I don't see your shovels."

"Shovels?" repeated Dick.

"Yes; to dig holes to get into after the game is over," Ted retorted.

"Teall," Prescott responded sternly, "if the South Grammars want any holes to hide in, they'll have to dig them themselves."

"Humph! We'll see which side feels most like digging a hole when the score is read!" retorted Ted. "Come along, Souths!"

Ted led the way down the field for practice. On the way he turned to shout something back. At that moment he tripped over a small wooden box and fell flat.

"Oh, Ted!" called Dick hurriedly.

"Well?" growled Teall, rubbing his shins.

"Did you enjoy your little trip?"

"My—-little—-trip?" repeated Ted wonderingly. "Oh—-pshaw! Of course you'd think of something like that to say."

"If you're lamed any by your little trip," offered Tom, "I'll leave left field to do your base running for you this afternoon."

"Yah! I'll bet you would," jeered Teall. "And if I let you, I'd be down on the score card for three less than no runs at all."

"You will, anyway," said Reade gravely.

"Somehow," broke in Dan, "I feel unusually happy this afternoon."

"That's because you know we're going to win to-day," laughed Dick.

"Oh, that's a part of it, yes," Dalzell agreed. "But the real cause of my happy feeling is that I'm going to find out what the man on the clubhouse steps said. That's what I've been aching to know ever since some time last winter."

"The time will pass shortly now, Danny Grin," Prescott remarked comfortingly.

By this time a score of spectators had arrived. Then came a few High School boys, among them Ben Tozier, who was again to umpire. "Tozier, what's the High School delegation for?" Dan asked. "To find out who'll be handy for the High School nine next year?"

"Perhaps," Ben replied gravely. "There's some good, young material in the two nines, all right. The trouble is that a lot of you fellows won't go to High School."

"All of Dick & Co. are going to attend High School," Dave proudly informed Tozier.

Two more High School boys now appeared who were not as welcome. Fred Ripley and Bert Dodge walked on to the field side by side.

"What are they doing here?" asked Dave.

"We are in luck," spoke up Tom, "if they haven't come here to start mischief."

"If they do, if they even try it," Dick predicted grimly, "they'll be the ones out of luck. We'll turn the boys of two Grammar Schools loose on them and run them off the field."

Down the street sounded a noise that could come from only one cause. Central Grammar School had "let out." All the boys and many of the girls were now hurrying toward the ball field. It was natural to take the biggest sort of interest in this game, which was to decide which school was the "champion."

"I'm sorry to see your crowd in such high spirits, Prescott," said Ted Teall, coming up. "It'll be all the harder for Central Grammar to bear when the score is announced."

"You're sure of winning, then, Teall?" Dick inquired.

"Absolutely certain!" Captain Ted rejoined.

"We're going to set off a big bonfire this evening, Ted," Captain Prescott rejoined. "If we win to-day will you agree to be on hand to light the fire?"

"Yes; if you win," agreed Ted. "But you can't!"



Chapter XVI

"TED'S TERRORS" FULL OF FIGHT

The umpire's quiet voice called the captains of the nines apart.

"Who'll call the toss?" asked Ben.

"Let Teall do it," Dick answered.

"You do it, Prescott," urged Captain Ted.

"Well, which one of you is going to call?" inquired Tozier.

"Teall," Dick again answered.

"Oh, all right, then," nodded Ted. "I suppose, Prescott, you feel that, whichever way I call, I'd wish I'd taken the other way."

The coin spun upward in the air, for Ben Tozier was a master of the art of flipping.

"Tails," announced Teall.

"It's heads this time," announced Umpire Tozier. "Captain Prescott?"

"We'll go to bat, then," decided Prescott. "We might as well begin to pile up the score that we're going to make."

"We'll show you how you're not going to make it," Ted grinned. "Remember, Prescott, that I and Wells are the battery to-day."

"What you need," laughed Dick, "is a good right fielder and a star third baseman."

"Huh!" grunted Teall.

"Get to your places," ordered Tozier briskly. "We want to end this game some time to-day."

The umpire inspected a new ball, then sent it grounding to Teall. Back and forth between the members of the South Grammar battery the ball passed three times.

"Play ball!" called the umpire sharply.

Tom Reade already stood by the plate. He swung his stick idly, watching Teall. Along came the ball. Tom judged it and hit at it.

"Strike one!" called Tozier, shifting a pebble to his left hand.

Ted grinned derisively as he twisted the leather for the next throw.

"Ball one!" and a bean followed the pebble into the umpire's left hand.

"Strike two! Ball two! Ball three!"

Ted Teall began to feel angry over the growing pile of called balls. He delivered one with great care.

Whack! Tom never waited to see whether the ball was headed inside or outside of foul lines. He simply dropped his willow, then gave his best exhibition of the sprinting that he had learned in the spring.

It was a fair ball that struck inside of left field. South's left fielder had to run in for the leather, which struck the ground, then rolled to one side. Thump! The ball landed neatly in the first baseman's hands, but Tom had kicked the bag a second before.

"Runner safe," drawled Tozier.

Spoff Henderson came next to bat. Ted, with great care, struck him out. Toby Ross met with similar disaster, nor did Reade have any chance to steal up to second. Then Greg advanced to the plate. He had his own favorite stick, which he swung with great confidence.

"Now, just see what I'll do to you!" was what Ted Teall's impudent smile meant.

Crack! Holmes hit the first ball, reaching first and pushing Tom to second.

"Danny Grin, don't fail us," begged Prescott, as Dan started for the plate. "Two men out, remember!"

As Dalzell faced the pitcher his grin was broader than Teall's.

Two strikes and two balls were quickly called. Some of Dalzell's assurance was gone now, but he steadied himself down. It would never do to strike out at such a time.

Then Danny Grin made his third strike, but he drove the ball ahead of him, forcing the right fielder of the Souths to run backward for it, but he missed the catch and by the time the ball was in circulation again the bases were full of Central Grammar runners.

"I'm glad you're going forward," whispered Dave, just as Dick started towards the plate, his favorite bat in hand.

"I'll make a monkey of you," muttered Teall, just loudly enough for the words to reach Prescott.

"If you can, you're welcome," grunted Dick under his breath.

Swat! It was the first ball driven in. Had there been a fence around the field that fair drive would have gone over it. How it soared and then flew! The right fielder who followed that ball was nervous from the start. He panted as he fell upon the ball.

"Throw it to third!" yelled Teall.

"Just at that instant Dan Dalzell was nearing the home plate, which Tom and Greg had already passed. Prescott's ankle turned slightly or he would have got in ahead of the ball.

"Runner out at third," called Tozier in a singsong voice. "Side out!"

"Yet who cared?" Dick's wonderful blow on the leather had brought three men in safe.

The Souths followed at bat. One, two, three, Prescott struck them out. Ted Teall's face looked solemn, indeed.

"Wells, we've simply got to hold these fellows down," grunted Teall to his catcher in the brief conference for which there was time. "We don't want to be walloped by a score of ninety-four to two."

"I haven't let anything get by me, have I?" grunted the catcher.

"No; but signal for some of my new ones."

"I don't want to put a crimp in your wing," muttered Wells.

"That's all right. It's a tough wing. Don't let the Centrals score anything on us in this inning."

"I'll do my best to help you hold 'em down," promised the South Grammar catcher as he hurried to his place behind the plate.

Dave Darrin, to his intense disgust, was struck out on three of the most crafty throws that Teall had on his list. Hazelton followed. Another player reached first on called balls, but the next Central boy struck a fair, short fly that landed in Ted's own hands.

"That was more like," grunted Ted, as he met his catcher at the bench. "In that first inning these Centrals had me almost scared."

In the second half of this second inning the Souths scored one run. They did the same in the third and the fourth innings, meantime preventing Prescott's fellows from scoring again, though in the fourth inning Prescott saw the bases full with Centrals just before the third man was struck out.

In the fifth and sixth innings neither side scored. At last the spectators began to realize that they were watching two well-matched nines.

"I can't see that the Central Grammars are doing such a lot of a much," grunted Hi Martin to a High School boy.

"The Centrals are playing fine ball," retorted the High School boy. "The only trouble is that the Souths rank pretty close to them."

"I'd like to play both teams again," asserted Hi. "All that happened to us was that we struck a few flukes when we played."

"Humph!" retorted the High School lad, just before turning away. "Your North Grammar nine was kicked all over the field by both of these nines. Both Prescott's and Teall's fellows have improved a lot since they met you."

Hi subsided, feeling unhappy. It hurt him to hear any one praise a fellow like Prescott.

"I wonder if they could beat us, if we had another try?" pondered Hi. "But what's the use of talking? Prescott would never think of giving us another chance. He's too thankful to have lugged the score away from us before."

In the eighth inning Teall brought in one more run for the Souths, who now led.

"We've got to work mighty hard and carefully," grunted Tom Reade.

"Yes," assented Dick briefly.

"We're beaten, anyway, I guess," sighed Hazelton.

Dick Prescott wheeled upon him almost wrathfully.

"We're never beaten, Harry—-remember that. We don't propose to be beaten, and we can't be. We're going to bat now to pile up a few more runs. The championship is ours, fellows—-don't let that fact escape you."

"I wish I had Dick's confidence," sighed Harry, turning to Reade.

"It isn't confidence; it's nerve," Tom retorted. "If we all show nerve like Dick's, then nothing but the hardest sort of luck can take this game away from us."

Greg went first to bat, securing the first bag. Dick followed, with a two-bagger that brought frantic cheers from the on-looking Central Grammar boys.

"There are our two runs—-the ones we need," cheered Darrin to himself, as he snatched up his bat. "Now if I'm any good on earth, I'll bring Greg in and perhaps Dick, too."

Though Dave was excited, he kept the fact to himself, facing Ted Teall with steely composure.

Two strikes and three balls were called. The two base-runners, full of confidence in Darry, were edging off daringly.

"If I dared," throbbed Dave inwardly, "I'd refuse and walk to first on a called ball. But Tozier might call a strike on me—-most likely would. Darry, you idiot, you've got to hit the next delivery, even if it goes by you ten feet from the line."

Poising himself on tip-toe, Dave awaited the coming of the ball. Wells, with a wicked grin, signaled for a ball that he felt sure would catch Dave napping. Earlier in the game it might have done so, but Ted's right "wing" was now drooping. Hi did his best, but Dave reached and clubbed the leather. In raced Greg, while Dick had a loafing time on his way to third. Dave reached first in plenty of time.

Two men went out, leaving the nines tied. Dick fumed now at third.

"I wish some one else than Henderson were going to bat," groaned Prescott inwardly.

However, Spoff had the honor of his school desperately at heart. He did his best, watching with cool judgment and backed by an iron determination to make his mark. The third strike he hit. It was enough to bring Prescott in. Dick seemed to travel with the speed of a racing car, reaching the home plate just ahead of the ball.

The side went out right after that.

"What did I tell you?" breathed Dick jubilantly. "We now stand five to four."

"But Ted's terrors have a chance at bat," returned Hazelton.

"It won't do them any good," Captain Dick affirmed. "Greg, signal for all the hard ones. Don't have any mercy on my arm. This is the last inning and the last game of the series. I can stand being crippled."

"The last inning and the last game, unless the Souths score now," Holmes answered.

"Don't let 'em score!" Dick insisted. "Remember, kill me with hard work, but don't let the Souths score!"

Ted Teall went to bat first for his side.



Chapter XVII

DODGE AND RIPLEY HEAR SOMETHING

Teall's grin, as he swung his stick and waited, was more impudent than ever. He meant to show the bumptious Centrals a thing or two.

Then in came Dick's wickedest drop ball, and it looked so good that Captain Ted took a free chance.

"Strike one!" remarked Umpire Tozier.

Some of the grin vanished from Ted's face, but his eyes now flashed the fire of resolve.

"Strike two!"

Teall began to feel little tremors running all up and down his spine.

"Steady, you idiot!" he warned himself.

"Ball one!"

Captain Teall began to feel better. Perhaps Dick's arm was beginning to grow stale.

"Strike three. Out!"

Ted started for the bench, hurling his bat before him. He was full of self-disgust.

"A fellow never can guess when he has Dick thrashed," he said to a South beside him.

"I didn't expect to see you play out before him in the ninth, Ted," replied the classmate.

"Neither did I," muttered Teall gloomily.

"Strike three! Out!" sounded Umpire Tozier's droning voice.

Then Ted sat up straight, rubbing his eyes.

"Two out, and no one on bases!" groaned Ted. "Oh, fellows—-those of you who have a chance—-do something. For goodness' sake, do something to save South Grammar."

A few agonized moments passed while those at the batting benches looked on at the fellow now performing by the plate.

"Strike three! Out!" remarked Ben Tozier decisively. Then the game was given to the Central Grammar boys by a score of five to four. The championship of the local Grammar League was also awarded them.

Ted gulped down hard. Some of his fellows looked decidedly mad.

"It's a shame!" choked Wells.

"No; it isn't, either," Ted disputed. "Dick Prescott and his fellows beat us fairly. Come on we'll congratulate 'em."

Good sportsman that he was, Ted almost limped across the field, followed by some of his players, to where Dick and the other Central Grammar players were surrounded by their friends.

"Prescott, you fellows are wonders!" broke forcefully from Captain Ted.

"Nothing like it," Captain Dick laughed modestly. "Some one had to win, you know, and the luck came to us."

"Luck!" exploded Ted unbelievingly. "Nothing like it, either. No sheer luck could ever have broken down the cast-iron determination that our fellows had to win. You Centrals are the real ball players of the town—-that's the only answer."

Whooping wildly in their glee, scores of Central Grammar boys rushed at Dick Prescott, trying to get at his hand and wring it.

"Please don't fellows," begged Dick, going almost white under the torment, after three or four boys had succeeded in pumping that arm. "You've no idea how sore my arm is."

"It must be," shouted Greg. "Dick told me to kill his arm, if I had to, but to signal for the balls that would strike out three batsmen in lightning order."

"The left hand, then!" clamored more of Dick's admirers. Laughingly, Prescott submitted to having his left hand "shaken" almost out of joint.

"Don't make such a fuss about it, fellows," begged Dick at last. "Remember that we have a permit for a bonfire on this lot to-night, and that the stuff is piled up in the rear of the next yard. You fellows who didn't have to go lame bestir yourselves now in bringing on the old boxes and barrels."

"Whoops!" yelled a Central Grammar boy, starting off. "Bring out the stuff and pile it high."

"Let the Souths help!" bawled Ted Teall at the top of his voice. "No matter who won, we'll all celebrate."

"Ted, you won't play any funny tricks on that pile of wood?" questioned Dick a bit uneasily, as he followed Captain Teall.

"What do you take me for?" demanded the South Grammar boy. "Do you think that I'm not on the level?"

"I'm answered," was Dick Prescott's satisfied answer.

Ere long the material for a monster bonfire was piled. Word was given out that it would be set going just a few minutes after dark.

"We came up here to see what we could find to do, didn't we?" whispered Bert Dodge, nudging Fred Ripley.

"Yes," nodded Fred uneasily; "and, so far, we haven't struck a thing that would be safe to do."

"The dickens we haven't," chuckled Dodge.

"What, then?" Fred inquired. Bert whispered in his ear, adding: "It won't cost us more than a dollar apiece, Fred."

"It's great," declared Ripley enthusiastically. "But we've got to move quickly, and at the right minute, or we'll be caught. I wouldn't give much for our chances of comfort if we're caught in this thing."

"We won't be, or we ought not to be," Dodge retorted. "But we'd better get home and get our suppers on the jump."

"We can do better than that; we can get a quick meal at one of the restaurants and then jump back on the job."

"Rip, you have a great head sometimes," admitted Bert Dodge.

At a time when every one else was at supper Fred Ripley and Bert Dodge stole back to the scene of the bonfire. After glancing cautiously about, they felt sure that no one was observing them. Then they stole close to the pile of combustibles. For a few moments they worked there, removing lids from tin cans and planting them safely out of sight.

Human nature—-of the American brand, at any rate—-dearly loves a bonfire. By dark that evening some two hundred grown-up and several hundred Gridley boys had congregated on the late ball field.

"Touch it off, some one. There's no use in waiting any longer," urged some of the bystanders. "It's almost dark."

"No, no! Wait!" urged Tom Reade. "The blaze will be all the finer after dark."

"Where's Dick Prescott?" sounded a voice, this being followed by a dinning clamor for the captain of the Centrals.

"Here!" called Dick, when he could make himself heard.

"Pouch it off, Dick! Let the fun start. You're the right one to set the bonfire going."

"Not I," Prescott answered. "There is some one else here who has been appointed to set the blaze going, and who has accepted the job."