“He was a valuable dog—wuth two hundred dollars,” explained the general utility man. “He was up on the second floor. I brung him down on the ladder. We tumbled half the way, but it didn’t hurt the dog none, ’though it did skin my nose. Mr. Glasby give me five dollars fer a-doin’ of it,” added Peleg, proudly.
“What, for skinning your nose?” questioned Jack, innocently.
“No, fer savin’ the dog from the fiery elements—thet’s wot Mr. Glasby called ’em—’though I didn’t see no elements—it was jest a big, red-hot fire,” added the general utility man, and then, watching his chance, he slipped away and kept out of sight for the rest of the evening.
During the past Summer and that Spring the bicycling craze, as it was called, had struck Putnam Hall hard, and now fully twenty of the cadets had wheels. As a consequence a number of the lads organized the Putnam Hall Bicycle Club. Every lad who had a wheel was eligible to membership, and our friends were not long in joining. Ritter was a member and Coulter and Paxton also joined. Bart Conners was the leader of the club.
“I move we get up a long distance race,” said Bart, one day. “We have had several small contests, but a race of fifteen or twenty miles would show just what the fellows can do.”
His proposal interested some of the cadets at once. Of course there were many who did not feel they could ride in a race that was so long, but Pepper, Jack and Andy went in and so did Ritter, Coulter and Paxton. Bart, of course, entered, and six others followed.
It took a little study to lay out the course, but at last this was accomplished, and the time of the race was set for a Wednesday afternoon a week later, Captain Putnam agreeing to close the school an hour earlier than usual, if the weather was right for the contest.
Reff Ritter was a good bicyclist, and as soon as the race was assured he went around trying to make wagers on the outcome of the contest. The majority of the cadets would not bet—it being against their principles, nevertheless the bully found some willing to put up their money, and he staked all he had—thirty dollars—on his chance of winning.
“If you are so sure of winning there isn’t much use of our going in the contest,” said Paxton to Ritter, as he and the bully and Coulter met.
“Well, I am bound to win,” answered Ritter. “I think you can help me to do it, too. You’d like to see me beat Ruddy and Ditmore and Snow, wouldn’t you?”