Poke escorted Orkney home; then hastened to Sam, to whom he told his tale of battle.
“Say, but it was a ripping old fight!” was his conclusion. “And we were on top! Sam, it’s the turn in the luck for the Safety First Club!”
“I hope it is,” Sam answered gravely. At the moment he was sharply reminded by Orkney’s achievement of his own yet to be settled account with Zorn.
CHAPTER XIV
AGAIN AT THE COUNCIL ROCK
Orkney’s battle with Scrub Payne made a great stir in the school. There were some evidences of a change in the popular temper, which might be taken to bear out Poke’s view that the luck had turned. Sam and his chums noted more signs of good will; they had reason to believe that some of the boys who had voted with them at the election of a class secretary were now ready to ally themselves openly with the club. On the other hand, though, there was nothing to indicate that Zorn was losing his hold upon the majority of the class, between whom and the club the line continued to be sharply drawn.
The club still flocked by itself. No outsider had been invited to visit the camp on the lake shore, and no visitor appeared there. On the other side of the sheet of water activities were increasing. Although the buildings had not been completed, the big pavilion was in condition for use, and a band played there Saturday afternoons and evenings. Some of the cottages were occupied, and there was much travel on the road leading from town to the new resort. On several occasions Sam saw Zorn speeding along on his motorcycle, going at a great pace and raising a thick cloud of dust; and he had glimpses, too, of Jack Hagle driving by in a light wagon. But they were only glimpses. The fine, dry weather held, and the dust was so deep along the highway that the boys, when they hiked back and forth, often preferred to take to the fields, avoiding the smother of the dust clouds.
By night, and with all precautions for secrecy, Poke and Step transferred the dismantled Saracen to the shed by the big field, and then set themselves to reassembling the monster, helped on by a holiday. They declined assistance from their chums.
“You chaps mean well,” Poke told them, “but the machine has a lot of delicate adjustments, and—well, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but your fingers would be all thumbs. So you just leave things to Step and me, and we’ll show you.”
“When?” somebody asked pointedly.
“Pretty quick,” Poke replied. “Of course, all the—er—er—all the rigging won’t be in place, but in a jiffy we’ll have things so far along that we can give you a pretty good demonstration.”