THE BLOWING UP OF THE BRIDGE
“Say, this is something fierce, Dave!”
“I agree with you, Roger. I don’t see how we are going to do such a long lesson.”
“Old Haskers is getting worse and worse,” growled Phil. “I think we ought to report it to Doctor Clay.”
“Just what I think,” came from Ben. “He keeps piling it on harder and harder. I think he is trying to break us.”
“Break us?” queried our hero, looking up from his book.
“Yes, make us miss entirely, you know.”
“Why should he want us to do that?” asked Roger.
“Then we wouldn’t be able to graduate this coming June.”
“Would he be mean enough to do that?” asked Dave.
“I think he would be mean enough for anything,” responded Phil. “Oh, I am not going to stand it!” he cried. 152
The boys had just come upstairs, after an extra hard session in their Latin class. All were aroused over the treatment received at the hands of Job Haskers. He had been harsh and dictatorial to the last degree, and several times it had looked as if there might be an outbreak.
The next day the outbreak came. Phil sprang up in class and denounced the unreasonable teacher, and Ben followed. Then Dave and Roger took a hand, and so did Buster and several others.
“Sit down! Sit down!” cried Job Haskers, growing white in the face. “Sit down, and keep quiet.”
“I won’t keep quiet,” answered the shipowner’s son. “You are treating us unfairly, Mr. Haskers, and I won’t stand for it.”
“Neither will I,” added Ben.
“Sit down, I tell you!” stormed the instructor.
But none of the students obeyed him, and in a minute more the room was in an uproar. One of the under-teachers heard it, and quickly sent for Doctor Clay.
As the master of Oak Hall strode into the classroom there was a pause. He mounted the platform and put up his hand, and soon all became quiet.
“Young gentlemen, be seated,” he said, in his strict but kindly fashion, and instantly every student 153 sat down. Then he turned to the teacher. “Mr. Haskers, what is the trouble?” he asked.
“The trouble is that certain students will not learn their lessons,” answered Job Haskers, sourly. “I had to take them to task for it.”
“Who are those students?”
“Lawrence, Basswood, Porter, Morr, Beggs––”
“That will do for the present. Lawrence, stand up,” ordered Doctor Clay.
Phil did as requested, and the eyes of the entire class were fastened on the shipowner’s son.
“Now, Lawrence, what have you to say for yourself?” went on the doctor.
In a plain, straightforward manner, Phil told his side of the story. Several times Job Haskers wanted to interrupt him, but Doctor Clay would not permit this. Then Ben was questioned, and after that the master of the school turned to Dave.
“Is your complaint the same, Porter?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And yours, Morr?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What have you to say, Beggs?”
“The same. The lessons lately have been altogether too hard—we simply can’t get through them. We never had such long lessons before.”
“I have given them only the regular lessons,” put in Job Haskers. 154
“Ahem! Let us go over them and see what can be done,” responded the doctor. “If the students are willing to work we do not want to overburden them, Mr. Haskers.”
A discussion lasting over a quarter of an hour followed, and in the end the lessons were cut down, much to the satisfaction of the whole class, who felt like cheering the head of the school. The only person who was not satisfied was Job Haskers. He was invited to go out with the doctor to his private office, and came back some time later, looking anything but happy.
“I’ll wager he got a calling down!” whispered Phil to Dave. “I hope he did.”
He was right about the “calling down,” as he expressed it. The master of Oak Hall had spoken very plainly to the instructor, and given Job Haskers to understand that he must get along better with the boys in the future, and treat them with more consideration, or he would be asked to resign from the staff of the school.
Several days slipped by and during that time Dave paid close attention to his lessons. He had also a theme to write on “The Future of Our Country,” and he devoted considerable time to this, hoping it would receive at least honorable mention, even if it did not win the prize offered for the best production.
“Come on down to town!” cried Roger, one 155 afternoon, as he rushed in, “Big excitement on! Going to blow the railroad up!”
“Blow the railroad up?” queried our hero. “What sort of a joke is this, Roger?”
“No joke, at all. You know the old stone bridge over the creek?”
“Sure.”
“Well, the railroad wants to get rid of it and do it quickly, so they can build another, so the contractors are going to blow the old bridge up with dynamite at half-past four o’clock.”
“Let’s go!” burst out Phil. “It will be a great sight—to see that old bridge go up.”
“Right you are!” cried Ben.
All the boys were enthusiastic, and in the end fully fifty students got permission to go down to Oakdale to see the old stone bridge destroyed.
“None of you must go very close,” warned Doctor Clay, “for dynamite is powerful stuff—eight times more powerful than gunpowder.”
“We’ll keep away, don’t fear about that,” answered several.
“Dynamite isn’t to be fooled with,” added Dave.
“Say, that puts me in mind of a story!” cried Shadow. “A Dutch laborer working on the railroad was much annoyed by the other laborers coming along and knocking his stiff old derby hat over his eyes. At last he got good and mad and 156 when he saw a chance, he stole a stick of dynamite from the shanty where it was kept. He stuck the dynamite in his hat and then went around to the other laborers. ‘Now, chust hit dot hat vonce again of you dare!’ he said.”
“And nobody dared,” added Roger, as a general laugh went up.
“I once saw a fellow take a stick of dynamite and burn it like a torch,” remarked Ben. “It gave me a cold chill to see him do it.”
“And it didn’t explode?” queried Roger.
“No. But I heard afterwards that if he had struck it ever so lightly, it might have blown us all as high as a kite.”
“It sure is great stuff,” remarked Phil. “Say,” he went on suddenly, “I wish they were going to blow up old Sparr’s hotel instead of the bridge.”
“So do I,” added Ben. “He’s about as mean as they make ’em.”
“That man ought certainly to have something done to him,” was Roger’s comment.
“Well, he won’t make a success of his hotel if he treats everybody as he treated Phil,” said Dave.
“He doesn’t deserve any success,” growled the shipowner’s son.
When the students arrived in the vicinity of the old bridge they found a large crowd assembled, 157 including many acquaintances from Rockville Military Academy, and people from the town. Red flags had been placed around, and nobody was allowed to get very close to the old structure.
“There is where they have the dynamite stored,” said Phil, pointing to a shanty not far away. “See the sign?”
“That’s a good spot to steer clear of,” returned Dave, with a grin.
“Oh, I’m not afraid of the stuff,” answered the shipowner’s son.
In the crowd of men and boys the students became more or less separated. There was a great thrill when the word was passed that everything was in readiness for the blowing up of the old bridge.
“She’s going!” cried Roger to Dave.
Boom! came the dull, heavy roar, and the boys saw the stones of the old bridge flying upward in all directions. The ground shook all around them, and the water from the creek was splashed on high. A great cloud of smoke and dust filled the air. Then came silence, followed by a wild cheering from the younger element.
“Certainly a great sight,” was Dave’s comment.
“Too bad it didn’t last longer,” sighed Buster.
“It wasn’t quite as big as I thought it would 158 be,” said Luke. “I thought some of the stones would fly about a mile high.”
“Good enough for a free exhibition,” put in Gus. “Beats fireworks all hollow.”
The boys walked down to the ruins of the old bridge and hung around for the best part of a half an hour. Then, in groups of five or six, they walked to town, to look around there before returning to Oak Hall. Dave and his chums passed Jason Sparr’s hotel. He was on the veranda and scowled at them, and Phil and some of the others scowled in return.
“Have you done anything about that Sparr matter yet, Phil?” asked one of the lads.
“No; but I will soon, you wait and see,” was the growled-out reply.
On the main street of the town some of the boys separated, to do a little shopping, and then some walked to the school, while others got in the carryall that happened to be at hand. As a consequence some of the students did not get back to Oak Hall until some time after the supper hour.
Dave was alone when he entered the dining-hall and he was surprised to see that neither Phil nor Roger was present. Ben was also absent and likewise Shadow.
“Didn’t some of them come in with you?” he asked of Buster. 159
“Gus and Luke did,” was the reply. “I don’t know where the others are.”
The meal was almost at an end when Phil, Ben, and Roger made their appearance. They had but little to say, but Dave could see that something was wrong.
“Had another wrangle with Jason Sparr,” explained Phil, after the meal. “He followed me to one of the stores, and I told him just what I thought of him.”
“And he threatened to have Phil arrested for defamation of character,” added Ben.
“But he didn’t dare to do it,” declared the shipowner’s son.
“Better let him alone,” advised Dave. “You’ll gain nothing by keeping in hot water over it, Phil.”
That night all of the boys had to study hard, and consequently they retired to their dormitories early. The only exception was Polly Vane, who had to go to Oakdale to meet a relative who would stop off but who was going away again on the midnight train.
The boys studied until ten o’clock and then retired. Dave was completely tired out and his head had hardly touched the pillow when he was sound asleep.
He was awakened about two hours later by the sounds of excited talking. He opened his 160 eyes to behold Polly Vane standing in the dormitory fully dressed, while Phil was sitting on the edge of the bed, and Ben and Roger and some others were just rousing up.
“What’s going on?” Dave asked, sleepily.
“A whole lot, if what Polly says is true,” answered the shipowner’s son.
“But it is true, upon my word!” cried the girlish student. “I heard the explosion myself.”
“What explosion?” asked several.
“An explosion in Oakdale, to-night,” answered Polly. “Somebody tried to dynamite Jason Sparr’s hotel!”