Dave Porter in the South Seas/Chapter 9

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CHAPTER IX


ABOUT ATHLETIC CONTESTS


"You stole those things, you!" gasped Dave. He could scarcely utter the words. He shrank back a step or two, and his face was filled with horror.

"Yes, I did it," came from Shadow Hamilton.

"But—but—oh, Shadow, you must be fooling! Surely, you didn't really go to work and—and——" Try his best, Dave could not finish.

"I stole the things; or, rather, I think I had better say I took them, although it amounts to the same thing. But I don't think I am quite as bad as you suppose."

"But, if you took them, why didn't you return them? You have had plenty of time."

"I would return them, only I don't know where the things are."

"You don't know? What do you mean?"

"I'll have to tell you my whole story, Dave. Will you listen until I have finished?"

"Certainly."

"Well, to start on, I am a great dreamer and, what is more, I occasionally walk in my sleep."

"Yes, you told me that before."

"One morning I got up, and I found my clothes all covered with dirt and cobwebs and my shoes very muddy. I couldn't explain this, and I thought some of the fellows had been putting up a job on me. But I didn't want to play the calf, so I said nothing.

"Some days after that I found my clothing in the same condition, and I likewise found that my hands were blistered, as if from some hard work. I couldn't understand it, but suddenly it flashed on me that I must have been sleep-walking. I was ashamed of myself, so I told nobody."

"Well, but this robbery——" began Dave.

"I am coming to that. When Doctor Clay spoke about his stamp collection, I remembered that I had dreamed of that collection one night. It seemed to me that I must run away with the collection and put it in a safe place. Then I remembered that I had dreamed of the stick-pins at another time, and had dreamed of going to the boathouse to put them in my locker there. That made me curious, and I went down to the locker, and there I found—what do you think? One of the stick-pins stuck in the wood."

"A new one?"

"Exactly. That made me hunt around thoroughly, and after a while I discovered this, under my rowing sweater."

As Shadow finished, he drew from his pocket a doubled-up sheet of paper. Dave unfolded it, and saw it was a large sheet of rare American postage stamps.

"Did you find any more than this?"

The other youth shook his head.

"Did you hunt all around the boathouse?"

"Yes, I hunted high and low, in the building and out. I have spent all my spare time hunting; that is why I have had such poor lessons lately."

"Don't you remember going out to row during the night, Shadow?"

At this question, Shadow Hamilton started.

"What do you know about that?" he demanded.

"Not much—only I know you were out."

"Do you know where I went to?"

"I do not."

"Well, neither do I. I dreamed about rowing, but I can't, for the life of me, remember where I went. I must have gone a good way, for I blistered my hands with the oars."

"And yet you can't remember?"

"Oh, I know it sounds like a fairy tale, and I know nobody will believe it, yet it is true, Dave, I'll give you my word on it."

"I believe you, Shadow. Your being out is what has made you so tired lately. Now you have told me a secret, I am going to tell you one. Ike Rasmer saw you out on the river at night, passing Robbin's Point. And there is something stranger to tell."

"What is that?"

"Are you dead certain you were asleep on the river?"

"I must have been. I remember nothing more than my dream."

"Do you know that you were followed?"

"By Rasmer?"

"No, by Gus Plum."

"Plum!" gasped Shadow Hamilton, and his face turned pale. "Are are you certain of this?"

"That is what Ike Rasmer told me," and then Dave related all that the old boatman had said.

"That makes the mystery deeper," muttered Shadow. "It puts me in mind of a story I once— but I can't tell stories now!" He gave a sigh. "Oh, Dave, I am so wretched over this 1 I don't know what to do."

"I know what I'd do."

"What?"

"Go and tell Doctor Clay everything."

"I—I can't do it. He thought so much of that stamp collection—he'll surely send me home—and make my father pay for the collection, too."

"I don't think he'll send you home. About pay, that's another question. In one sense, you didn't really steal the stamps. A fellow isn't responsible for what he does in his sleep. I'd certainly go to him. If you wish, I'll go with you."

The two talked the matter over for half an hour, and, on Dave's continual urging, Shadow Hamilton at last consented to go to Doctor Clay and make a clean breast of the matter.

They found the master of Oak Hall in his private office, writing a letter. He greeted them pleasantly and told them to sit down until he had finished. Then he turned around to them inquiringly.

It was no easy matter for Shadow Hamilton to break the ice, and Dave had to help him do it. But, once the plunge was taken, the youth given to sleep-walking told him his story in all of its details, and turned over to the doctor the stick-pin and the sheet of stamps he had found.

During the recital, Doctor Clay's eyes scarcely once left the face of the boy who was making the confession. As he proceeded, Shadow Hamilton grew paler and paler, and his voice grew husky until he could scarcely speak.

"I know I am to blame, sir," he said, at last. "But I—I—oh, Doctor Clay, please forgive me!" he burst out.

"My boy, there is nothing to forgive," was the kindly answer, that took even Dave by surprise. "It would seem that you have been as much of a victim as I have been. I cannot blame you for doing these things in your sleep. I take it for granted that you have told me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

"I have, sir, I have!"

"Then there is nothing to do but to investigate this as far as we can. Of course, I realize that it would cut you to have everybody in the school know of your sleep-walking habit."

"Yes, sir. But I shouldn't care, if only you could get back the stamps and the pins."

"Is Rasmer sure he saw Plum following Hamil ton on the river?" asked the doctor, turning to Dave.

"That is what he told Morr, Lawrence, and my self the day we stopped at his boathouse for a new oarlock."

"Then I must see him and have a talk with him," said the master of Oak Hall; and after a few words more the boys were dismissed.

On the following morning, Doctor Clay drove down to Ike Rasmer's place. The boatman was pleasant enough, but he remembered that Gus Plum was one of his customers, and when questioned closely, said he could not testify absolutely to the fact that it had been Plum who had followed Hamilton on the river.

"You see, my eyesight ain't of the best, doctor," said Rasmer, lamely. "I saw Hamilton full in the face, but the other feller had his face turned away from me. I ain't gittin' nobody into trouble, 'less I am sure of what I am doin'—that's nateral, ain't it?"

"Very," answered Doctor Clay, coldly, and re turned to the academy in deep thought. He realized that Ike Rasmer was now on his guard, and would tell no more than was absolutely required of him.

The next movement of the worthy doctor was to call Gus Plum into his office. The bully was anxious, but had evidently nerved himself for the ordeal.

"No, sir, I have not been out on the river at night this season," said he, blandly, in reply to the doctor's question. "I have not dared to go out so late, for I take cold too easily." And he coughed slightly.

This was all Doctor Clay could get from Plum, and he dismissed the bully without mentioning Hamilton or the missing pins and stamps. Then the doctor called in Andrew Dale, and the two consulted together for the best part of an hour; but what the outcome of that discussion was the boys were not told. A day later, however, Shadow Hamilton was told to change his sleeping quarters to a small room next to that occupied by Andrew Dale.

"Hello! Shadow is going to get high-toned and have a sleeping-room all to himself!" cried Roger, and would have asked some questions, only Dave cut him short.

"There is a good reason, Roger," whispered the country boy. "But don't ask me to explain now. If you question Shadow, you'll only hurt his feelings." This "tip" spread, and none of the boys after that said a word before Hamilton about the change. But later all came to Dave and asked what it meant.

"I wish I could tell you, but I can't, fellows. Some day, perhaps, you'll know; until then, you'll have to forget it." And that is all Dave would say.

The boys were too busy to give the mystery much attention. A series of athletic contests had been arranged, and all of the students who were to take part had gone into training in the gymnasium, and on the cinder-track which was laid out in the field beyond the last-named building. The contests were to come off on the following Saturday, and, to make matters more interesting, Doctor Clay had put up several prizes of books and silver medals, to be presented to the winners.

Dave had entered for a hurdle race, and Roger, Phil, and Ben were in various other contests. Dave felt that he would stand a good chance at the hurdles, for on Caspar Potts' farm he had frequently practiced at leaping over the rail fences while on the run. He did not know surely who would be pitted against him until Ben Basswood brought him the news.

"Gus Plum, Fanning, and Saultz are in the hurdle race," said Ben. "Plum says he feels certain he will win."

"Plum," repeated the country boy. "I knew the others were in it, but I didn't think Gus would take part."

"He went in right after he heard that you had entered. He says he is going to beat you out of your boots. He wanted to bet with me, but I told him I didn't bet."

"Is Nat Poole in the race?"

"No, he is in the quarter-mile dash, against me and six others. He thinks he will win, too."

"I don't think he will, Ben. You can outrun him."

"Anyway, I am going to try," answered Ben Basswood.