Dave Porter in the Far North Part 21

"I didn't know of it!" cried Buster Beggs.

"Nor I!" "Nor I!" came from one after another of the other members of the Gee Eyes.

"Who started the fire?" asked Phil.

"I did," answered Sam Day. "I just got some wood together and lit it, that's all."

"Was there anything on the ground?"

"Not a thing, so far as I noticed."

"Here is part of a big cannon cracker," said Dave, holding up the still burning paper. "That was big enough to blow off a fellow's hand or foot."

"Say, don't you remember those fellows we saw running away!" exclaimed Roger.

"To be sure!" was the quick answer. "Nat Poole was one."

"Who was the other?"

"He looked like Link Merwell to me," said Buster Beggs.

"Then we've got an account to settle with Poole and Merwell," said Roger. "Just look at how my hands and my neck are blistered!"

"And my hand," said Ben. "Oh, how it smarts! I'll have to put some oil and flour on it."

"Let us declare Plum's initiation finished," said Phil. "Then we can hunt up those fellows who played this dirty trick on us."

Phil's suggestion was at once adopted, and the club members scattered through the woods, to look for those who had hidden themselves. In a very few minutes Sam Day set up a shout:

"Here is one of them!"

"And here is the other!" called out Gus Plum and Ben, simultaneously.

"You let go of me, Sam Day!" came in the voice of Nat Poole. "I didn't do anything! Let me go!"

"You come along with me, Nat Poole," answered Sam, sternly. "Just look how that hand is burnt!" And in his anger Sam gave the other boy a smart box on the ear.

"Oh! Don't, please don't."

"You'll yell worse than that when we are through with you," answered Sam.

"You bet he will," said Buster Beggs. "I got a hot cinder in my right eye."

"Don't, please don't!" shrieked Nat Poole. He was a coward at heart, and the att.i.tude of those around filled him with sudden terror. "I didn't do it, I tell you."

"Then who did?" demanded Dave.

"Oh, I--I can't tell you. I--I----"

"Yes, you can tell," said Shadow, and gave Poole's ear a twist. The story-teller of the school had gotten some hot ashes in his mouth, which had put him in anything but a gentle humor.

"It was Link Merwell. He put the crackers under the fire and let the fuses stick up," said Poole.

"You're a fine sort to blab!" sneered Merwell. "Since you're willing to tell so much, I'll tell something too. He bought the fire-crackers."

"Is that true, Poole?" questioned Roger.

"Ye--yes, but I--I didn't know----"

"He knew what I was going to do with them," broke in Link Merwell. "It was only a joke."

"So is that a joke, Merwell," answered Roger, and hauling off he boxed the tall youth's right ear. "If you want to make anything out of it, do so. Look at my hands and neck. You went too far."

Merwell's face blazed and he looked as if he wished to annihilate the senator's son.

"Humph! I suppose you think you can do as you please, with your own crowd around you," he muttered. "You don't know how to take a joke."

"I can take a joke as well as anybody, but not such a perilous trick as that."

"It's on a par with the joke of the fellow who put gunpowder in a poor Irishman's pipe," broke in Shadow. "It put the Irishman's eyes out. I don't see any fun in that."

"I think we ought to give them both a good licking!" cried a boy named Jason, and without more ado he took his wooden sword and gave Poole a whack across the back. Then he turned and whacked Merwell.

It was a signal for a general use of the wooden swords and stuffed clubs, and in a moment the two unlucky students were surrounded, and blows fell thick and fast. Poole yelled like a wild Indian, but Merwell set his teeth and said nothing, only striking back with his fists when he got the chance. Dave took no part in the onslaught, nor did Ben and Phil. As soon as he saw a chance Nat Poole ran for his life. Link Merwell stood his ground a little longer, then he too retreated, shaking his fist at the members of the Gee Eyes.

"Just wait!" he fairly hissed. "I'll get square for this, if it takes me a lifetime!"

CHAPTER XIV

GOOD-BYE TO OAK HALL

"I'll wager Merwell is the maddest boy Oak Hall ever saw!" said Shadow, when the excitement had subsided.

"Poole is a sneak, and no mistake," said Sam. "I wonder if he'll go and tell old Haskers or Doctor Clay?"

"He won't dare--for he is afraid we will tell about the fire-crackers,"

answered Dave. "Yes, he is a sneak."

"I don't see, now, how I could ever make a friend of him," declared Gus Plum. "Now, in one way, I like Merwell--he's a fighter and he doesn't care who knows it."

"Yes, but he's got a wicked temper," observed Roger. "He reminds me of Nick Jasniff. They would make a team."

"Where did he come from, anyway?" questioned Messmer.