Front matter (continued 3)

"My mother."

"Oh! don't you know it's a warm climate down there? Sure! It's in the Tropics. No chance of catching cold—not at all."

"Oh!" murmured Bobby, and he felt somewhat relieved.

"And they've been picked up by some ship bound around the world, maybe—that is why you haven't heard from them. You won't hear till they touch at some port clear across the world, from which they can send mail.

"Or perhaps," said the comforting captain, "they have gone to some tropic island, where boats don't often touch. And the sailors will build shelters for the passengers against the coming of the rainy season, and then a boat-load of volunteers will hike out looking for a civilized port, and it will be months and months before help comes to the island.

"Meanwhile," said the imaginative youngster, his eyes glowing and his cheek flushed, "your mother and the other ladies will get well and strong, and all brown like Indians. And the men will have to dress in goat-skins, for their clothes will wear out, and they'll learn to make fire by rubbing two sticks together, and they'll have fights with jaguars—But no!" exclaimed the big boy, suddenly; "of course, there will be no harmful creatures on an island.

"Say! I guess they're having fun all right. Don't you worry, Bobby."

They halted at the doctor's door, and Barry rapped. The voice of the big principal told them to "Enter!" and the bigger boy pushed open the door.

"Here he is, sir," said Barry, winking fast over the head of the smaller boy at Dr. Raymond. "I have just been telling him what a jolly good time his folks are likely having right now. It must be so interesting to be shipwrecked."

CHAPTER XVIII

THE BLOODY CORNER

The news went over the school at noon, of course, and most of the smaller boys eyed Bobby Blake askance. The boy himself seemed walking in a kind of cloud; his mind was stunned, and it was lucky that Dr. Raymond had said to him, kindly:

"You are excused from recitations to-day, Robert."

The good doctor had spoken to him quite cheerfully of the probable loss of the steamship on which Mr. and Mrs. Blake had sailed from New York. The principal seemed to have taken his cue from Barrymore Gray.

To tell the truth, what Barry had said cheered Bobby more than anything else. Even Fred Martin was a trifle depressing. Fred wanted to give him his share in the bats and mask and other baseball paraphernalia, and turn over to him, in fact, most of his personal property, likely to be dear to a boy's heart.

This was the red-haired boy's way of showing sympathy. But it did not help much.

The roseate picture Barry had drawn of the shipwreck stuck in Bobby's mind. He was very glad his mother could not take cold down there, even if she got her feet wet.

For several days the other boys were very gentle with Bobby. It did not make Bobby feel very comfortable, but he knew they meant it kindly.

Soon, however, their awkwardness wore off, and they were as rough and friendly as ever, and he liked it better. Deep in his heart he kept thinking all the time of his parents, and the possibilities arising out of the wreck of the steamship. Outwardly he was much the same as ever.

Only one thing Bobby Blake desired now more than before. He longed—oh! how he did long—to win the Medal of Honor. If his parents were shipwrecked, and there was any suffering for them in it, it seemed to Bobby that if he won the Honor Medal at Rockledge School, that fact would alleviate their misery, wherever they were!

Yet there was nothing of the mollycoddle about Bobby. Fun appealed to him just as strongly as it ever did to any ten year old boy.

There were certain set rules of Rockledge School that he would not break and that he kept Fred from breaking.

"There's no fun in getting caught and held up to the whole school as dishonorable," he told Fred. "We're expected to keep in bounds. We know the bounds well enough. And if we want to go out of them, we have only to ask, and give a good reason, to get permission to go farther."

"Aw, they treat us as if we were a lot of babies," growled Fred Martin.

"They do nothing of the kind," Bobby replied. "Doctor Raymond treats us as though we were gentlemen. He trusts to our honor. I wouldn't disappoint him for a farm!"

"We-ell!" sighed Fred. "I suppose you're right, Bobby. I—I almost wish he didn't treat us just this way. There'd be some fun in busting up the old rules!"

And that was where Dr. Raymond showed his wisdom. He knew how to manage boys with the least amount of friction.

Weeks passed, full of work and play, and no further news came of the lost steamship on which Mr. and Mrs. Blake had sailed for Brazil. The wreckage had been sighted off the Orinoco, and the name of the steamship was plain upon the wreck. But it might have drifted a long way after the catastrophe. Just where the ship had been burned, nobody could guess.

No boat from her, no word from her captain or crew, came to the owners in New York. She had been a freight boat, carrying on that trip scarcely a score of passengers.

Much of this Bobby did not hear, or understand. He clung like a limpet to the imaginative idea of a shipwreck that Barrymore Gray had drawn for him. And it was well that this was so.

Thanksgiving came and went. The Belden school came over in the forenoon to Rockledge and its football team was nicely thrashed by the Rockledge eleven. The Lower School went almost mad with delight; and Fred Martin and Larry Cronk, the Belden boy, came almost to blows on the campus.

Neither of the Lower Schools had forgotten the hot potato fight on the island. Ere this, Bobby and his friends had completed their camp and had begun to furnish it, but they hoped the youngsters from Belden would learn nothing about the hideout.

One thing pleased Bobby and Fred immensely at Thanksgiving. A big box came to them from Clinton. In it were all sorts of good things made by Meena and Mrs. Martin, fall apples and pears picked by Michael Mulcahey, candy from Mr. Martin's store, and gifts from Fred's sisters and smaller brothers.

The Second Dormitory had a great feast after hours one night, of which even Captain Gray knew nothing. Bill Bronson and Jack Jinks got onto it, and the small boys had to bribe the two bullies with some of the choicest of their stores. Nevertheless, the midnight feast went off very smoothly.

There were a few more cases for the medical attendant to see to at Rockledge School after Thanksgiving than usual. The midnight feast coming so soon after the big Thanksgiving dinner, played havoc in the ranks of the smaller boys.

Pee Wee had what Bobby declared to be "internal, or civil war," and went to the hospital in Dr. Raymond's house for three days. He came out wan and interesting looking, declaring that he had lost pounds of flesh! But he proceeded to get his avoirdupois back again very promptly.

It was a full week before the school was back on its usual working basis—and the midwinter holidays only a month away. The teachers spurred the lazy scholars, and helped the dull ones, and out of this pushing in classes arose the trouble that became a very serious affair indeed for both Fred Martin and Bobby Blake.

Fred was not always bright in arithmetic. One morning he made a ridiculous blunder, and the whole class laughed at him. Mr. Carrin reprimanded Fred for his inattention, and as they filed out for recreation before dinner, Sparrow Bangs—named so because he had a whole cage-full of tame sparrows down at the gatekeeper's cottage—made fun of the red-haired boy.

Fred had been angered by the teacher's sharpness. Now he turned on Sparrow in a terrible passion.

"What's that you say? I'll give you a punch you'll remember."

"Aw, no you won't!" returned Sparrow. "And I'll say it again, Ginger! You've no time to play catch—you'll have to study the multiplication table, like Mr. Carrin said."

Fred rushed at the teasing lad, but Pee Wee and Howell Purdy came between them.

"Cheese it!" said the fat boy. "You two fellows want to get into trouble? Right under the schoolroom windows, too!"

"Well, he's got to stop nagging me," cried Fred, very red, and puffing very hard.

"Who are you, Ginger, that I should be so awfully careful of?" sneered Sparrow. "You're not so much!"

"I'll show you—"

"Stop it! stop it, Fred!" advised Bobby, catching his chum by the arm. "Come on, I want to throw you a few fast ones. We mustn't get out of practice, even if we can't play a regular game until next spring."

"There he goes!" cried Sparrow. "His boss takes him away. Great lad, that Ginger is. Afraid to say his soul's his own. Bobby Blake just bosses him around—"

It was all over, then! Fred flung off Bobby's hand and rushed at his tormentor. Smack! his fist shot into Sparrow's face.

Half a dozen of the boys then got between the antagonists.

"You want to get us all into trouble?" growled Mouser, one of those who held Fred Martin. "Cut it out. If you've got to fight, there's the 'bloody corner.' Do it right."

The chums had heard of "the bloody corner," but since their appearance at Rockledge School there had been no real pugilistic encounter between any of their mates.

Down in the far corner of the grounds—oh! a long way from the buildings—behind a tall hedge of hemlock, there had once been a toolshed. It had been removed and the corner was just a heap of soft sand. No matter how hard the frost was, this sand did not freeze.

And here, from time immemorial, had been arranged the school fights. Whether the good Doctor was aware that in this arena was fought out such feuds as could not be otherwise settled, nobody knew. Usually the fights were arranged by the older fellows, and the captain of the school was supposed to be present and see fair play.

It spoke well for Barrymore Gray that thus far under his régime, not a fight had occurred in "bloody corner."

The belligerents—Fred and Sparrow—were separated for the time, but as Bobby and his friend started to run to dinner when the big gong rang, Shiner stopped them.

"Hey, Ginger," said he. "Are you game to fight Sparrow?"

"I'm going to fight him," declared the red-haired boy, showing his teeth. "He can't get out of it."

"Oh! he's not trying to," said Shiner. "In fact, he told me to put it up to you. He wants to knock your head off."

"He'll have a fine time trying it," declared Fred, hotly. "I'll show him—"

"Aw, drop it!" begged Bobby. "You don't want to fight Sparrow—and he doesn't want to fight you."

"Better keep out of this, Bobby Blake," advised Shiner, importantly. "Sparrow says Fred's afraid, anyway—"

"I'll show him!" cried the maddened red-haired boy.

"Bluffing's all right," sneered Shiner. "But will you fight?"

"Give me a chance!"

"Aw-right. We'll put it up to the captain and you and Sparrow can get together down in the corner."

"With gloves? and have Barry Gray boss it? No, I won't," declared the pugnacious Fred. "Sparrow's trying to get out of it. I'll box him in the gym. But if he's got the pluck of a flea, he'll come down to the corner with his bare fists—and you and Bobby here are enough to see fair play."

"Whew!" whistled Shiner, his eyes dancing. "Do you mean it?"

"You'll find out that I do," threatened Fred, wagging his head.

"You sha'n't fight that way, Fred!" cried Bobby. "The School won't stand for it."

"You mean that bully, Barry Gray, won't stand for it. He always wants to boss."

"You game to see them through, Bobby?" demanded Shiner.

"If you don't want to come with me, I'll get Pee Wee," growled Fred.

"No," said Bobby, in great trouble. "If you mean to fight Sparrow, of course I'm going to stand by you."

"And keep your mouth shut about it?" snapped Shiner.

"Bobby's no snitch," exclaimed Fred, hotly. "If we're caught, it won't be because either Bobby or I tell."

"Nuff said," declared Shiner, shortly. "I'll see Sparrow again and put it up to him. We'll find a time when nobody else will be around. Be ready," and Shiner went off whistling, evidently feeling his importance in the matter.

Bobby felt pretty badly. He did not want to see Fred fight at all. And he certainly did not want him to meet Sparrow Bangs in this way. A sparring match was one thing, but a fist fight, deliberately arranged, and held in secret, was an entirely different matter.

"You can't do it!" he said to Fred, greatly disturbed. "Dr. Raymond might send you home."

"I don't care if I'm sent home twice!" exclaimed the hotheaded Fred. "I am going to thrash that fellow, or he'll thrash me."

Bobby wanted to shake Fred—he could have hit his chum himself! And yet—he couldn't desert him. They had come here to this school, strangers. They had agreed to stand by each other, through thick and thin—of course without a word being said about it! Boys do not talk about their friendships like girls.

If Fred were wrong, Bobby could be angry with him, but he could not desert him. If his chum intended to fight Sparrow Bangs in this disgraceful way, Bobby would "second" him—of course he would!

If Dr. Raymond should hear of it and suspend them both from school, it could not be helped. He knew very well that he was running a risk of losing all chance for the Medal of Honor; yet he would stick to his chum.

He was unhappy that night—very, very unhappy. Fred and he said little when they were alone. Shiner came to him and whispered, at bedtime, that there would be a chance to "pull off" the fight the next noontime after dinner. They could cut the mid-day study hour to do it, without being caught.

Beyond his determination to stand by Fred, right or wrong, Bobby wanted his chum—as long as he would fight—to win! He advised him in the morning:

"Now, Fred, eat a good breakfast—a big breakfast. But you're going to go light on dinner."

"I know," grunted the red-haired one.

"Don't drink much water at dinner time, either. If you think you'll be tempted too much, keep out of the dining-room."

"No," growled Fred. "They'll think I'm afraid."

"All right. But eat lightly," urged Bobby.

For once something was going on in the Lower School that the whole crowd of boys was not "on to." Shiner and Sparrow had been as mum as Fred and Bobby.

The two combatants did not even scowl at each other; they kept apart. They did not want any of the other boys to suspect.

Howell Purdy asked Bobby if "Ginger wasn't going to knock Sparrow's head off?" and Bobby dodged the question adroitly.

It seemed to Bobby as though that forenoon would never come to an end. At half past eleven the Lower School was let out. Bobby took Fred into the gymnasium and they put on the gloves together for a little practice.

With the experience they had had before, and the instruction of the Rockledge athletic teacher, for boys of their size, Bobby and Fred were quite proficient in the so-called manly art.

Sparring, as a game like baseball or tennis, is splendid exercise and good training for mind and temper. It may, or may not, lead to fisticuffs among boys. Certainly boys who spar together in a gymnasium are much less likely to have rude fights as the outgrowth of sudden temper. They respect each other's prowess too much.

Fred was careful at dinner. As soon as they could, he and Bobby slipped out, and made their way to the distant corner, and by a roundabout way so that they could not be seen. Five minutes later Sparrow and Jimmy Ailshine appeared.

CHAPTER XIX

THE RESULT

Just who would have won in that battle between Fred Martin and Sparrow Bangs remains one of the unsolved mysteries of Rockledge School.

It was never finished. The quartette of boys had made one mistake. They should have taken a fifth youngster into their confidence and set him on watch.

Mr. Leith, the head master under Dr. Raymond, always took a constitutional around the grounds after the midday meal. Not often did he cross the campus, for he was not a man given to spying upon his young charges.

But this day the campus seemed to be deserted. It was a cold day, and most of the boys had remained indoors to take advantage of the hour of study before afternoon lessons.

He came down the railing that defended the cliff's edge, and he heard, as he approached the notorious "bloody corner," boyish voices.

"That's it, Sparrow! Hit him again!" shrieked one voice.

"Let him hit me—I'll give him as good as he sends!" spoke up another voice.

There was the instant sound of blows interchanged. The teacher could not doubt what was going on.

"Boys! boys! how dare you fight?" he demanded, and strode toward the hedge of hemlock trees, his coattails flapping behind him.

The fight had not continued long. Both boys had removed their coats and vests and caps. They were hard at it indeed when Mr. Leith's voice smote upon their ears.

"Cheese it!" gasped Shiner. "Leith's onto us!"

With the fear of being apprehended in all their minds, the four boys sprang for the underbrush, on the other side of the corner. They knew which way the teacher was coming.

The two belligerents had picked up their discarded clothing, but as they got under cover Fred gasped:

"Scubbity-yow! I've dropped my cap."

"Keep on!" exclaimed Bobby. "I'll get it."

He was so earnest to shield his chum from the result of his wrong doing, that he forgot his own danger. If Fred's cap were found, Mr. Leith would know it, and Fred would be called upon to explain.

Bobby darted back while the other boys scudded through the bushes. He saw the cap on the ground just inside the open space. He sprawled all over it, grabbed it up, and then was stricken motionless and dumb by the voice of the master who stepped into view:

"Robert! What does this mean?"

Bobby shook all over, but he stuffed the cap into the breast of his jacket.

"Robert, stand up!" commanded the teacher.

Bobby did so. He looked timidly across at the gentleman. Certainly Mr. Leith was a very stern looking man!

"Come here, Robert," said Mr. Leith.

Bobby crossed the sandlot at a slow crawl. Mr. Leith cleared his throat, removing his eyeglasses to wipe them. On the instant, as the boy reached the fence, he flung Fred's cap through the rails and out over the edge of the cliff. It disappeared like a shot.

"What was that, sir?" demanded Mr. Leith, putting on the eyeglasses and looking at Bobby again.

The boy hesitated. The gentleman repeated:

"What was it? I saw you throw something away."

"It—it was a cap," said Bobby.

"A cap? Not your own cap?" exclaimed the teacher, in surprise. "You have your own cap on."

"No, sir. Not my own cap," admitted Bobby.

"Whose cap was it, then?"

Bobby was silent. He looked up at Mr. Leith pleadingly. That gentleman knew well enough what was in the boy's mind. He, too, understood boys pretty well, but he did not believe in handling them just as the old Doctor did.

"Do you hear me, young man?" he asked, harshly.

"Yes, sir."

"Why do you not answer me?"

Bobby wanted to cry out and plead with him. Mr. Leith had no right to ask such a question! That is the way the boy looked at it. The teacher was tempting him to do the meanest thing in a boy's catalog of sins.

He was asking Bobby to snitch!

"I—I can't tell you, sir," stammered the boy.

"You mean you are determined not to tell me?" repeated Mr. Leith.

Bobby was silent, but still looked straight into his face. No frown could make Bobby Blake drop his eyes in shame.

"Two boys were fighting here just now," said the teacher, slowly and sternly. "Isn't that so?"

"Yes, sir," said Bobby, quietly.

"Barrymore Gray was not here?" asked the other, sharply.

"Oh, no, sir. Barry knew nothing about it, sir," cried Bobby.

"Ah! Indeed? Then this fight was a strictly private affair?"

Bobby looked miserable, but said nothing.

"How many boys were here?"

Bobby wagged his head negatively. "I—I can't tell you, sir."

"Nor the names of the boys who fought?"

"No, sir."

"You know who they are?"

"Oh, yes, sir."

"And you refuse to tell me?"

"I—I can't tell!" gasped Bobby, both hands clutched tightly upon the breast of his jacket. It seemed to him as though the teacher must see the pounding of his heart.

"Robert," said Mr. Leith, "I do not like such actions as this. I will not allow a boy to refuse me answers to perfectly proper questions. Go to your class-room. You must not go to the gymnasium, nor out of doors at all, until I bid you. When you are not in classes, remain in your dormitory.

"I am disappointed in you, Robert. You have shown yourself to be a studious boy heretofore and not a ruffian."

"Oh, sir—"

"Silence! You may not have been one of the boys fighting; but you were aiding and abetting a ruffianly encounter between two of your schoolmates. It cannot be overlooked.

"I had hopes of you, Robert. We all had. Dr. Raymond himself had commended your course since you came to Rockledge. But no boy who wishes to stand in the honor class can break the rules of the school and then refuse to stand the full punishment for his act."

"Oh, Mr. Leith!" cried Bobby, brokenly. "I am not trying to get out of anything. Truly I'm not! Punish me all you want to, sir, but don't ask me to tell on the other boys. I can't do that."

"We shall see, Robert," said the teacher, grimly. "Return to your class-room."

Now began a very terrible time for Bobby Blake—or so it seemed to the heartsick boy. He held a secret that he could not speak of, and his refusal to reveal it broke down his chances of gaining that Honor Medal on which he had set his hopes.

Of course, it never entered his mind for a moment that he could tell—even though the other boys did not realize what he had been through with Mr. Leith, and what his punishment was.

Fred and Sparrow, made friends by the emergency, with Jimmy Ailshine, waited for Bobby in a secure hiding place known to all four; but Bobby did not come. When they got back to the classroom at half past one, Bobby was there ahead of them.

His face was very red; he may have been crying, but Fred could not tell. The latter slipped a brief note to him:

"Did he catch you?"

Bobby nodded, but did not write back. Fred, after a while, slipped over another written question:

"Where's my cap?"

This time Bobby replied: "At the foot of the cliff. He doesn't know any of you. Keep still."

"Good old sport, Bobby," quoth Fred to Sparrow, when recitations were over and they filed out. "Scubbity-yow! that was a soaker you gave me on the jaw. It's sore yet."

"I believe I'm going to have a black eye," revealed Sparrow, with pride.

They went off together, inseparable friends for the time being. Bobby remained behind, taking his books into the big study.

Mr. Leith did not speak to him again. In fact, nobody came near him before supper. When the boys came in, giggling and talking, just as unable as usual to settle down quietly to the meal until an adult eye was turned threateningly upon them, Bobby entered, too, but with such a lump in his throat that he felt that he could scarcely swallow a mouthful.

Nobody noticed his condition but Pee Wee, and he only to seize upon the pudding that Bobby could not touch. "You act as if you had the mumps and couldn't swallow," whispered the fat boy. "But what you can't eat I'll get rid of for you, Bobby."

Three wistful days passed. Bobby remained indoors, and the boys knew that he was being punished. Only three knew what for, and they did not know how much.

"Good old scout, Bobby!" said Shiner, clapping him on the shoulder. "Wild horses wouldn't get anything out of you, eh!"

Fred began to eye his chum askance. Thoughtless as the red-haired one usually was, he began to worry.

Then Mr. Leith called Bobby to him again.

"Will you tell me who was fighting down there at the corner?" he asked.

"Please—please do not ask me, sir!" begged the boy.

"Ahem! you are still stubborn, are you!"

"Ye—yes, sir," said Bobby, not knowing what else to say.

"Very well. I shall keep you indoors no longer. I see that gentle means will not cure your trouble. At the last, I should have been tempted to keep the matter to myself and give you a chance for the medal. But I see leniency is wasted upon you.

"You may have your freedom, Robert. Nothing you can do now will wipe out the fact that you have deliberately refused to answer my questions. That is all."

And Bobby Blake forgot the Doctor's office door was unlocked!

He accepted the punishment of Mr. Leith as final. He knew he had lost all chance of winning the Medal of Honor. Young as he was, it seemed to him as though his punishment was almost too great for him to bear!

CHAPTER XX

ON THE BRINK OF WAR

To everybody else, affairs at Rockledge School seemed to go on as ever. There were hard lessons, and easy lessons (the former predominating, the boys thought) and there were many, many good times as the season advanced.

Monatook Lake froze completely over. At first the boys were not allowed upon it; but when a team of horses, hitched to a pung, had been driven from shore to shore—from the edge of Rockledge town to Belden—word was given from the teachers' desks that skating on the lake within so many yards of the boathouse, would be allowed.

The gate-keeper set stakes, to which little red flags were attached, at the corners of the ice-bounds, and for a few days, at least, the Rockledge boys were satisfied with the restrictions.

They saw the Belden boys skating on their side of the lake, too, and other boys, from the two villages, who did not go to either school, skated where they pleased.

On half holidays bounds were released, but if the boys wished to skate the length of the lake a teacher went along. Owing to the feeling between the boys of the two schools, Dr. Raymond did not even test the Lower School with Barry Gray for monitor.

Bobby, of course, entered into all these sports. Even Fred thought that his chum's punishment had ended, and likely enough the red-haired boy had forgotten all about his interrupted fight with Sparrow Bangs.

Fred and Sparrow were the best of friends. To tell the truth, Bobby Blake was somewhat gloomy these days—he was not as much fun as usual.

Fred put it down to the fact of the mystery regarding Mr. and Mrs. Blake. Of course, a fellow could not be very jolly when he did not know for sure whether his father and mother were dead or alive!

However, Fred did not see how he could help his chum. He did his best to liven Bobby up; but was not very successful at it. It did really seem to Fred as though Bobby "gloomed about" altogether too much.

"It's all right for a fellow to feel badly about his folks," said Ginger to Sparrow, who had become his confidant for the time being, "but you can't get him out of his grouch."

"He's trying to be too good," scoffed Sparrow. "I bet he's aiming to get the medal."

"Scubbity-yow!" ejaculated Fred. "That would be great!"

"Pshaw! he can't get it. No Lower School boy ever got it. I expect Barry Gray will be medal man this year."

"He won't get my vote," declared Fred, shaking his head.

"Why not, Ginger?"

Fred was used to this nickname now, and did not get mad at it, but he shook his head, and said:

"Just for that. Barry nicknamed me. He's too fresh."

"Aw, pshaw! you're prejudiced," laughed Sparrow.

None of the boys realized what the matter was with Bobby. And he would not tell Fred that he had anything to do with forming the cloud under which Bobby suffered.

The silence of his father and mother—the uncertainty about them—did trouble Bobby continually. Yet he had a deep-seated hope that all would come out right about them. Barry Gray's comforting words regarding the shipwreck had fired his imagination.

The thought, however, that no matter how well he stood in his classes, or how high his marks of deportment were, he could not win the Medal of Honor, disturbed the boy's mind.

Christmas week came. Bobby and Fred had intended to go home to Clinton for the short holiday, but the very day the term closed a great snowstorm set in. It snowed so heavily the first night that the railroads were blocked. Dr. Raymond would not let any of the boys leave the school, save two or three who lived near and whose people came for them in sleighs.

The good doctor telegraphed to the parents of his boys instead, and great preparations were made for a dinner and celebration at the school which would make the boys forget their disappointment.

Presents could arrive by express, too, by New Year's, and Dr. Raymond said that the actual distribution of gifts at Rockledge would be advanced one week. New Year's should be celebrated like Christmas.

The two and a half days' snow covered the lake two feet deep on a level. The ice had been more than a foot thick when it began to snow. In fact, the Rockledge and Belden icemen had been getting ready to cut, but would now have to put it over until after New Year's, because of the scarcity of labor.

There was no danger on the ice. There was not one airhole anywhere between the shore-fronts of the two schools—a stretch of nearly four miles of level, glistening snow.

The boys of the Rockledge Lower School had had much fun, on half holidays, up the lake at the island where the winter camp had been built; but that was a long way to go over the snow. Nobody had ever tried snowshoeing and skiing, and the authorities at the school rather frowned upon these sports. However, the field of snow between the bluffs on which the rival schools were built was a vast temptation for a hundred active boys.

There was a snowball skirmish between the larger boys of the two schools the very first day after the storm ceased. Captain Gray and his crowd had met a bunch of Beldenites ("Bedlamites," the Rockledge boys called their rivals) near the first island—a little, rocky cone, now a snowy mound, and with only a few trees upon it.

The fight had been fast and furious as long as it lasted, but it was rather a good-natured one, after all. Finally Captain Gray and the captain of the Belden School met for a few minutes' conversation. In that few minutes a challenge was given and accepted. Unless the teachers interfered, it was arranged to have a general snow battle between the schools.

Free from lessons, and with most of the ordinary rules relaxed, Captain Gray could plan a coup that the enemy would not possibly expect. It had been agreed that the coming battle should be fought near the island, which was about in the middle of the lake between the two schools.

That night, after supper, Captain Gray picked a dozen boys to help him—and not all big boys, for Bobby and Fred were among them—and they slipped out of the house.

"We'll get the bulge on those Bedlamites," chuckled the captain. "Come on, now. Run!" and he set off in the lead.

He would not tell what was afoot, but every boy was excited enough to follow and obey.

They crossed the campus and went down the long flight of stairs to the boathouse. The cold was so intense, and the wind had blown so hard while it was snowing, that they crunched along right on top of the drifts, and the walking was easy.

There was no moon, but the stars gave them light enough. Besides, it is never really dark when the snow covers the ground.

The twelve boys speeded across the white expanse. Bobby and Fred were proud that they had been chosen by the bigger fellows to take part in this mysterious adventure.

Captain Gray insisted upon several snow-shovels being brought along, and as soon as they reached the island, he put them all to work. The idea was to fortify the islet and hold it against the expected attack next day of the Belden School.

"This will be a surprise to them," declared Gray, proudly. "I saw right off that whichever side could get this island and hold it, would have an advantage.

"Building breastworks down on the pond is all right, but from this height we can throw snowballs right into any breastworks that those fellows can build.

"A bunch of us will come out here to-morrow morning with our breakfasts in our hands (I've fixed it all up with Mary, the cook) and we'll hold this island till the crowd on both sides gets here."

Two hours' work under the direction of Barry turned the island (which was barely ten yards long) into a veritable fort. Within that time, the twelve boys had built the fortress, partly of bowlders that had been well placed by Nature, and pieced out the rock buttresses with thick walls of snow.

The party got back to school just before the retiring bell rang, and escaped a scolding only because the rules were relaxed for the holidays. In the cold, chilly dawn, half a dozen of the boys of Dormitory Two were awakened by the bigger fellows. Bobby and Fred were among them.

"Aw, crickey!" gaped Fred, burrowing in the pillow. "I don't want to get up now."

Bobby was out of bed in a moment. "Come along! It's going to be fun, Fred," he said.

Fred was lazy. He burrowed deeper. In about thirty seconds a large, juicy snowball, scooped off the window sill by Max Bender, was thrown into the back of Fred Martin's neck.

"Yee-ow!" yelled the startled Ginger, and rose up to fight back. The big boy ran, however, chuckling, and all Fred could do was to dress, grumblingly.

"All these big fellows are fresh," he confided to Bobby.

"I wonder what we'll be when we are as big as they are, and boss the school?" returned his more thoughtful chum.

That feazed Fred a little. By and by—as he finished his dressing—he admitted:

"Well, Bobby, I'd never thought of that!"

The guard thus called to duty by Captain Gray gathered, shivering, in the kitchen. Good natured Mary had risen an hour earlier than usual and made a big can of coffee, and there were sandwiches and doughnuts.

"Worth getting up early for, that's sure," announced Fred, becoming more content. "Won't Pee Wee be sore because he's not in this?"

They marched away with shovels and sleds. Overnight the smaller boys had made a lot of snowballs and they had been packed in boxes and put on the sleds. But before the early procession started, Barry examined all the boxes, and finding that somebody had made "soakers," he dumped them out.

"Let me catch any of you boys icing the ammunition, and I'll tend to you," he promised, angrily.

"Aw, those Bedlamites busted Frankie Doane's head open with a soaker last winter," complained Sparrow Bangs.

"We won't be mean just because they've been," declared Captain Gray. "You see that you're not guilty, Sparrow."

"Gosh!" muttered Fred, in Sparrow's ear, "don't that sound just like Bobby?"

"You bet! They're a pair. Guess Bobby's a copy-cat. He's following in Barry's 'feet-prints.'"

"Don't you say that!" flamed up Ginger, at once. "Bobby has always been like that. He's the fairest chap that ever was. If anybody's the copy-cat, it's old Captain Gray!"

Neither of the boys in question beard this, and it was just as well perhaps that they didn't.

It was scarcely daylight when the party reached the island. They did not see a Belden boy stirring on the farther bank of the lake. After setting the tasks to be done by these guards, Barry went back to the school, leaving Max Bender in charge of the fortress.

Max was rather a lazy fellow, and he always let the smaller boys do his work—if they would agree. He was good natured enough about it.

He sat down in a sheltered place, and had Bobby and Fred cut the under branches of the firs for firewood, and they soon had a nice little fire going.

This might attract the attention of the enemy to the fort, but Max did not care for that.

"You boys keep on making snowballs. You'll have to make them outside the fort—down on the ice, there, and then you can draw them in on the sleds. Get busy now."

"What are you going to do?" demanded Ginger Martin, rather perkily.

"Never you mind, youngster," returned Max. "You never read of the officers in authority getting on the firing line, do you? I've got to stay up here and keep watch, and plan the defense of the island."

"Oh, crickey!" exclaimed Ginger, scornfully. "You're a regular Napoleon—not!"

And it was a fact that, had the younger boys holding the fort depended upon Bender's watchfulness, the Beldenites would have been upon them unannounced.

Naturally the boys making snowballs did so on the side of the island facing Rockledge School. The island hid from them the Belden side of the lake.

But suddenly Bobby, who had dragged in a heavy sled load of snowballs, and was packing them securely in a pile behind an upper fortification, chanced to stand up to stretch his limbs and looked over the breastwork.

"Oh, look here!" he yelled. "Here's the Bedlamites right onto us!"

And it was true. The captain of the rival school had seen what the Rockledge boys were about—or he had suspected it, seeing the smoke of Max Bender's fire.

He had brought out his whole crew, and the vanguard of Belden boys was now but a few yards from the shore of the snow-covered and embattled island. They were making the attack in silence, and hoped to take the garrison of the fort by surprise.

CHAPTER XXI

GIVE AND TAKE

Bobby was scared at first by his sudden discovery. Here the Belden boys were coming on the rush, and there was only a handful of Rockledge boys—ten in all—at the island, to stand the unexpected charge.

Hi Letterblair, the captain of the Belden School, was at the head of the charging column. He and eight of the biggest boys of Belden were very near the island already.

Directly in the rear of the vanguard were a dozen smaller boys with schoolbook bags over their shoulders. Bobby knew by the bulky appearance of these receptacles, that they were full of snowballs.

Some distance behind were the rest of the Belden boys, dragging sleds heaped with ammunition. The entire force of the enemy was approaching.

Bobby wheeled about, even before he cried out, save for that first exclamation of surprise, to look at the Rockledge shore. There was not another Rockledge boy in sight save those at the island.

"What's the matter!" lazily demanded Max Bender, warming his hands over the tiny blaze.

"Look! Look!" repeated Bobby, turning to point again. "Here they come!"

"Here who come?" asked Bender, jumping up.

He shuffled up to the place where Bobby stood. One look he gave and then vented his amazement in a long whistle.

"My goodness!" he muttered. "They've got us beaten before we even begin."

"Aren't we going to fight?" demanded Bobby, with energy.

"What! fight the whole bunch—just us few?"

"Of course. We've got the island—"

"And a fat time we'd have trying to keep it," grunted Max.

"Why, you're a quitter!" exclaimed the smaller boy, under his breath. He whirled and waved his hands to the boys below, busy making snowballs. "Get up here, fellows—in a hurry!" he cried. "Here come the Bedlamites."

"Scubbity-yow!" was Ginger Martin's response, and the red head came on the run. A fight was meat and drink to Fred.

The other boys hurried up the slope, too. Bobby yelled to them to bring in the sleds and all the ammunition.

In making the fortress the evening before, and in rolling "snow bombs" to fling down upon the heads of the enemy should they get to close quarters, the island itself had been for the most part swept clean of snow. The bulwarks of the fortress were as tall as most of the boys defending it at the present moment.

"We're going to get licked," muttered Max Bender again.

Sparrow grinned at Ginger. "I always believed Bender was a softie," he whispered. Ginger nodded, but he looked at Bobby.

"We've got to hold on here till Captain Gray gets over with reinforcements," the boy from Clinton was saying, eagerly.

"Sure we have!" agreed most of the ten, in chorus.

"And the way to do it is not to let those Belden fellows see how few in numbers we are," said Bobby, thoughtfully. "We have heaps of ammunition. We'll beat them off till Captain Gray comes."

"We can't do it," declared Max Bender, with conviction.

Fred turned on him with his face as well as his hair aflame: "You're a healthy lieutenant, you are!" he snarled. "Why didn't Captain Gray leave a baby in command? Come on! you can fling snowballs, can't you, like Bobby says?"

"Well—But these fellers will surround the island and then they'll get us," croaked Max.

Sparrow laughed sneeringly. It was Bobby who replied.

"If you propose to run, you start now before the fight begins," he said, gravely. "Then they'll think we're sending a messenger for reënforcements, not that one of our side is a coward and is running away."

"Hurrah!" yelled Sparrow.

"Scubbity-yow!" exclaimed Ginger. "Now he's got it."

Max Bender was actually pale. He was scared to fight and he was scared to run! In truth his position was pitiable.

But Bobby Blake gave the big fellow very little attention. The other boys just naturally looked to Bobby to lead them.

"Don't show yourselves, fellows, if you can help it. Don't throw too quickly; we don't want to waste ammunition. Let's all line up along here now, and one of us peek over and give the word to fire—"

"I'll do that!" cried the excited Mouser Pryde.

"Yes you will!" sneered Fred. "I'd like to see you. Bobby's bossing this."

"That's right!" exclaimed Sparrow, generously. "If this big simpleton, Bender, won't take the lead, let Bobby do it."

"Sure! let Bobby do it!" shouted the others.

Bobby, his eyes flashing, his cheeks red with excitement, did not argue the point. Of course he wanted to lead—what boy would not?

Besides, he believed they could hold the Beldenites off until reinforcements came. Max Bender stood beside him, packing a snowball tighter, and said nothing. Bobby jumped up and looked over the high parapet. It was almost two feet across at the top, and lots thicker at the bottom. The inside was cut straight up and down, but outside it sloped.

Bobby could stand upon a rock and see over the top of the wall. Hi Letterblair and his crowd was now quite near. When Bobby popped up Hi saw the Rockledge boy.

"Hurrah!" yelled the Belden leader. "Come on, fellows! Charge!"

"Let's fire at them, Bobby!" gasped Fred, fairly dancing up and down in his eagerness.

"No. They're too far away yet. Hold your fire."

"Till we see the whites of their eyes—just like Bunker Hill!" exclaimed Sparrow Bangs.

"They'll hammer the life out of us if they get up here," grumbled Max.

Bobby turned on him suddenly. Big as Bender was, he was doing all he could to scare the rest of the garrison.

"You be still!" commanded Bobby. "If you won't fight, run; but if you stay with us, you keep your mouth shut and throw snowballs as hard as you can!"

And actually, big as he was, the pale faced Max did not reply!

Bobby whirled back to look over the parapet. His eyes danced and he was so excited that he could scarcely keep still.

"Now!" he cried. "Up and at them! Fire three each, and then drop down. And take aim—do take aim!"

Most of the boys obeyed him. The snowballs flew in a shower upon the advancing enemy. With the advantage of their position, the Rockledge boys pelted the on-comers well.

Belden's leader brought up his whole force before he attempted to reply to the fusillade. Letterblair knew that they would have to get nearer to pelt their missiles at the garrison with any precision.

Behind the wall of snow and rock, Bobby said:

"Now, three more snowballs. Get ready!" Each boy could hold two missiles in his left hand while he threw the third. The idea was to get in the fusillade and then drop out of sight before the enemy could return the compliment.

"All ready?" cried Bobby again. "Come on, now! Let them have it!"

Up jumped the nine youngsters and saw that Hi Letterblair and his crew was now very near the island.

"Shoot!" yelled the captain of the Belden boys.

They were at a disadvantage, however. They had to throw up, while the Rockledge garrison threw down.

The missiles from the island-fortress descended upon the charging enemy with considerable force. Before the Beldens could return the fire, Bobby and his crowd dropped out of sight again.

The Beldens cheered. Bobby popped up, saw that they were still advancing, and gave the order for another volley.

"At them again!" he shouted.

Fred was yelling his battle-cry like a crazy boy, and Shiner and Sparrow were scarcely less excited. In the midst of one of Fred's vociferous shouts, slam came a snowball right into his mouth!

"Oh! oh! that was a soaker!" cried Sparrow.

Fred was hopping mad. He wanted to keep on firing at the enemy when Bobby gave the command to dip down for another supply of ammunition.

"Obey the captain!" bawled Howell Purdy.

"Get ready!" called Bobby, steadily. "Don't throw so wild. They are getting too near for comfort."

"They'll just give us fits when they get up here," murmured the shaking Max.

"I never did see such a lump of uselessness," grumbled Mouser. "Did you, Bobby?"

"Come on!" shouted the young leader of the defenders. "Give them as good as they send—and take what they send us laughing."

The Rockledge boys popped up again. Their last volley had stopped the Belden boys. Some of the youngsters had run away with the ammunition. Hi Letterblair had halted his party to make new snowballs.

"Give it to them!" shouted Bobby, and down upon the attacking party hurtled another well-aimed volley.

They drove the besiegers back several yards, but now Hi Letterblair saw that there was but a small garrison on the island. He saw only boys from the Rockledge Lower School, and it was evident that Captain Gray was not present.

He called a council of war, and soon the Belden party began to spread out and quickly surrounded the island. Bobby and his crowd were completely hemmed in.

"What did I tell you?" whined Max Bender. "Now we can't get away at all."

"You had your chance to go," Bobby said, with scorn. "We can beat the whole crowd off—for awhile, at least. We have plenty of snowballs."

"But there's not much snow to make any more," said Howell Purdy.

"We should worry!" exclaimed Sparrow. "We'll throw them just as fast as we can, as long as they last."

"No use in trying to throw so far," advised Bobby. "We have the advantage of them, anyway. They have to throw higher than we do."

Soon a shower of snowballs was flung at every head which appeared above the ramparts. Nor could Bobby and his friends remain in hiding all the time. If they did so, the Beldens would soon charge and rout them by the weight of superior numbers.

It was only by returning the enemy's fire with vigor and precision that the Rockledge boys held the fort at all. Hi Letterblair had ten or a dozen big boys massed to make a charge; Bobby could see that.

Therefore the young leader of the defending party urged his followers to concentrate their attack upon the captain of the Belden School.

"Keep them off! we've got to keep them off till Captain Gray gets here," panted Bobby.

"Hurrah! here they come!" yelled one of the smaller boys, suddenly.

Bobby shot a glance toward the Rockledge shore. Indeed, there they did come! With Captain Gray and the school flag at their head, the bulk of the Rockledge boys were coming across the snow-covered lake towards the island.

"Keep still! don't wake them up!" begged Bobby, before anybody else could cheer. "If the Bedlamites don't know they're coming till they get here—why, all the better."

The appearance of reënforcements put pluck into Max Bender. He began to hurl snowballs with more precision and with more force. He became very active. Hi Letterblair's crew of big boys charged only half heartedly.

The boys behind the ramparts almost smothered them before the attacking party got upon the island. They had chosen the easiest ascent, but only one of the attackers reached the snow-wall.

Instantly half a dozen hands reached for this plucky enemy, and it was Max who hauled him over into the fort and sat on him.

"Hurrah! we've got a prisoner!" yelled Howell Purdy, dancing up and down.

"What'll we do with him, Bobby?" demanded Fred.

"Huh! I captured him," grumbled Max. "I guess I'll do what I please with him."

"While we're fooling with that fellow, the others will get up here," declared Shiner.

"Come on! here they come!" shouted Bobby, who was ever on the watch.

The second charge of Hi and his cohorts was resultless to either party. And then, almost immediately, Captain Gray and the rest of the Rockledge boys came upon the Beldens.

Hi Letterblair ordered his party to face about, and brought up the smaller boys from the other side of the island. At once the garrison of the fort leaped upon the ramparts and drove down a withering fire upon the enemy.

Thus held between two fires, the Beldenites were driven back around the island, and out of shot from the fortress. Captain Gray ordered his army to spread out and hold them at bay.

They had dragged out from the shore thousands of snowballs. The Rockledge party had ammunition enough to last for hours, both in the fort and on the sleds.

Captain Gray hurried into the fort. Max had let the prisoner up and the boys were all dancing about excitedly.

"You fellows did fine!" cried Barry Gray, his eyes shining. "Max! you're all right! You held them off in fine shape."

"They gave us a hard rub, Barry," said the big fellow, coolly. "And I yanked this chap inside when they charged."

His statement was perfectly correct—as far as it went; but for Max to accept praise for the defense of the fort struck most of the smaller boys dumb. Not Fred Martin, however.

"Well I never!" gasped the red-haired boy. "Will you listen to that? Talk about the brass cheek of him!"

"What's the matter with you, Ginger?" demanded Max, scowling.

"Say! do you think you can get away with it?" shouted Fred. "You getting thanked for holding this island? Why, Barry," he cried, turning on the captain, with blazing eyes, "that big simpleton wanted to give up the fort and run away when he saw the Bedlamites coming. Yes he did! I'll leave it to Sparrow and the rest of the boys."

Sparrow shouldered his way to the front. "That's right, captain," he said. "Max was having a fit of shivers here, and wouldn't give orders. Bobby fought us."

"Sure he did!" cried Shiner and Howell Purdy together. "It was Bobby who did it. We'd have been whipped, if it hadn't been for Bobby."

"Well, did I say he didn't do his share?" snarled Max Bender, the wind all taken out of his sails. "I—I had a headache, anyway. And I did grab this fellow prisoner."

He looked around for the boy in question. But while they had been arguing, the Belden boy had slipped out of the fort and made his escape.

CHAPTER XXII

WHAT BOBBY SAID

The battle between the Rockledge and the Belden Schools continued furiously until noon. The former had the advantage because of their entrenchments on the island, but Hi Letterblair was not a bad general, and Barry and his helpers were often put to it to hold the enemy in check.

At one time when the Rockledge troops made a sally, four of them were captured and were held prisoners for an hour. Then they were rescued, Bobby and Fred being of the rescuing party.

Altogether the snow-battle was carried on in good temper, but there could not help being some rough work, especially when it came to hand-to-hand encounters.

Fred Martin and Ben Allen, one of the Lower School boys on the other side of the lake, had a short and vigorous fist fight in one scrimmage, and the captains put them out of the battle and sent them back to their respective schools in disgrace.

Noon came and an armistice was declared until the next morning at nine o'clock. It was agreed that the battle should begin just as it left off—with Rockledge holding the island against Belden.

The masters of both schools had begun to take an interest in the snow fight and that afternoon Dr. Raymond gave a pleasant talk to his boys in the big study, on the science of battle formation and military maneuvers.

The boys were interested. Captain Gray tried to put into execution in the next forenoon's fighting some of the advice the Old Doctor had given them. But Hi Letterblair had been advised by his instructors, too.

The teachers from both schools walked over to the island to watch the fight. It was a less rough-and-tumble affair than that of the previous day's battle, and in the end Rockledge lost the fort and island to the enemy.

Time was called, and both sides retired to renew the battle on the third morning. Captain Gray instructed his followers just what to do, and, at the beginning of the third morning's attack, Rockledge had recovered the fort, and captured half the Belden School in less than an hour!

It was great fun, and the boys learned to keep their tempers better as the fighting continued on more scientific lines. A storm came on and spoiled the fun, however, for the rest of the week.

Captain Gray came to Bobby and said: "You're all right! I've been getting the facts about that fight you put up at the island, holding off the Belden crowd, and it was smart of you.

"I thought Max Bender had more gumption in him. But he's a big bluff. Well! we won't talk about him. But I've told the Old Doctor what you did—"

"I didn't do any more than the other fellows," said Bobby, rather sheepishly. "They all put up a good fight."

"Sure! But they all say you did it—you kept them at it, and told them what to do. And Hi Letterblair says he'd have taken the fort right then, if it hadn't been for you. Oh, you can't escape the credit for it, old chap!"

Bobby knew that, although the boys might praise him, and even the Old Doctor himself might be his friend, there was one member of the faculty who did not approve of him. Mr. Leith seldom spoke to him, save when it was necessary in class-room.

New Year's Day came, and the presents from home were given out in the big hall after breakfast. It was a time of great hilarity and fun; but Bobby had hard work to keep back the tears when there were put into his hands presents addressed in his mother's and his father's writing—presents prepared far back in the summer before they had gone on that fatal voyage, and left in the care of Mrs. Martin.

Michael Mulcahey and Meena had not forgotten the boy, either. Their little presents breathed of love and friendship. Meena had a tender place in her heart for Bobby, after all. Michael wrote that she had refused to marry him on Christmas day, for the seven hundred and fifteenth time!

It was hard work by this time for Bobby Blake to believe that Gray's imaginary shipwreck was the real truth. Surely, if his parents were alive, some word must come from them.

The owners of the steamship that had been lost had never heard from any survivor. The newspapers had ceased to speak of the affair. It had become one of the many marine mysteries recorded within the last few years.

"S'pose you shouldn't ever hear about them till you grew up, Bobby?" suggested Fred, with awe. "They'd come home, and find you grown up and living in the same house, and—"

"I wouldn't be living there," declared Bobby, choking back that big lump that would rise in his throat.

"Where'd you be?" demanded Fred, in wonder.

"When I'm big enough, I'll go off and look for them."

"You will? Way down to Brazil?"

"I'd search all over South America. Maybe some bad tribe of natives has them. I'll find and rescue them," said Bobby, nodding his head.

"Scubbity-yow!" cried the ever enthusiastic Fred. "That'll be great. I'll go with you, and we'll hide in the jungle, and catch a native and make him show us the way to the village where the captives are held.

"Crickey, Bobby! you'd make out you were a magician, and you'd have a storage battery, and things, and you'd show them blackies more magic than they ever saw before, and they'll kill their old medicine man and make you chief of the tribe.

"And then we can get into the temple where your folks are held prisoners, and release them. We'll all get out through the secret passage and take enough gold and precious stones with us to load a donkey, and come home as rich as mud! Say! it's a great idea."

"Well! what do you think of that?" was Bobby's comment. "You must have been reading some of Sparrow's story-papers."

"Huh! they're jolly good stories."

"Wait till the Old Doctor catches him at it," said Bobby. "Those are just foolish stories. Nothing ever really happens like it says in those stories."

"Aw—well," said Fred, grinning, "it would be great if they did happen, wouldn't it?"

Lessons began right after New Year again, and it seemed harder than ever to buckle down to them because of the fun that week between Christmas and the first of the year.

"Wish it would be vacation all the time," grumbled Pee Wee, who had spent several days in bed because of the way he had abused his stomach.

"Goodness, Pee Wee!" exclaimed Bobby. "If every day was a holiday, you'd be sick all the time."

"No I wouldn't," returned the fat boy, who had figured the thing all out. "If we had holiday dinners every day, I'd get used to them and wouldn't get sick. See?"

Although Bobby had concluded that he had no chance at all for the Medal of Honor, he tried to stand as well as he could in his classes, and never again did Mr. Leith, or anybody else, catch him in an infraction of the rules of the school.

Not that he refused to go in for any legitimate fun, but he kept out of mischief, and did his best to keep his chum and the other boys of the Lower School out of trouble, too.

After that first snow-ball fight with Belden at the island, Bobby Blake became quite an influence among the smaller boys of Rockledge. The story of his taking charge of the defense of the island, after the defection of Max Bender, was common property, although Bobby himself would never discuss the matter.

Off and on, there was both snow and ice for two months following the great battle, but the boys had only the two half holidays a week in which to play on the frozen lake.

By and by the lake became unsafe, too, and, after a time came the spring thaw, the ice went out, and the boys could get into the boats again.

Every morning when he got up, Bobby ran to the window first of all and sniffed the moist, sweet air. Spring was on the way. And spring sets the blood to coursing more swiftly in the veins of every healthy boy.

For two months the boys of the Second Dormitory had not seen their camp in the woods on the larger island at the other end of Lake Monatook. When it was whispered around that there was a chance for a trip there the next Saturday, all were agreed.

Bobby and Pee Wee were the committee to "rustle up" the necessities for a feast at the camp. No potatoes and corn this time of year; the school commissary department had to be approached.

No boy in the school, save Barry Gray himself, had more influence with Mary, the head cook, than Bobby Blake. Like the other servants about Rockledge, the good woman knew all about the loss of Bobby's parents at sea. Besides that, he was always polite and friendly, and never mischievously tried to raid the pantry.

Pee Wee's influence lay in his inordinate love for sweet cakes and the like, for which he was always willing to spend his pocket-money. Many of the fat boy's dimes and quarters reached Mary's palm for "bites" between meals.

It chanced to be a good day with Mary, and the committee of two got the promise of a big hamper of good things for the first picnic of the year. Bobby had refused to be one of those who asked for the privilege of going up the lake. He knew that the request would have to be made to Mr. Carrin or Mr. Leith, and neither of them, he feared, were favorably inclined to him.

The permission was granted, however, and the crowd of nearly twenty boys raced down to the boathouse immediately after they were released from study at eleven o'clock on Saturday morning.

They had three boats, four boys at the oars in each. Some of the big fellows were going to get out the shells and begin practicing for the June regatta, but Bobby and his friends were eager to see their old camp.

"If those Bedlamites haven't found it and busted the camp all up," grumbled Pee Wee, pulling at an oar. "'Member how they pelted us with hot potatoes that time?"

"I hope they'll keep on their own side of the lake this spring," said Mouser.

"I expect they have as much right at the islands as we have," ventured Bobby. "Only it ought to be 'first come, first served.'"

"We'll serve them out nicely, if they bother us this spring," grunted Fred, who was likewise pulling.

"We'll beat them as we did in the snowball fight," cried Shiner.

"If we can spell 'able,'" laughed Bobby.

"Aw, we'll spell it all right, won't we, Ginger?" demanded Sparrow Bangs.

"Let me at them—that's all," boasted Fred.

When they got to the upper island, there was nobody there. They pulled their boats ashore and went up into the wood. There was the shack they had built the previous fall, almost as good as new.

Of course, the roof was rotting and wet, but it was pretty dry inside and they patched up the walls and roof in a little while.

Then they built a fire, made cocoa, opened a can of condensed milk, and spread out the sandwiches and pie that Mary had furnished. In the midst of the picnic, a chunk of sod popped right into the tin cup out of which Pee Wee was drinking.

"Oh! who did that?" demanded the fat boy.

In a moment a big sod came slap into the fire, and scattered the burning brands. Then followed a fusillade from the woods on two sides of the camp!

"The Bedlamites! I see that Larry Cronk!" yelled Howell Purdy.

The feast was spoiled. The boys from the rival school had pulled up a lot of soft, wet turf, and they bombarded the boys from Rockledge nicely.

It was an uneven fight at first, for the picnickers had been totally unprepared for such an attack.

Nobody wanted to run, however, and Bobby and Sparrow stemmed the tide of defeat with pine-cones, until their mates could cut clubs and come to close quarters.

The Rockledge boys were driven out of their camp. With great hilarity, Larry Cronk and his mates held the camp, and drove off their antagonists every time they attacked.

"They're too many for us," growled Fred, when the Rockledge crew finally retired. "Why! there are four boatloads of them."

"I tell you," whispered Shiner, "let's get back at them."

"Crickey! we've been back at them enough," complained Pee Wee. "I'm beaten black and blue. And look at our clothes—all mud! We'll hear about this, when we get back to the school."

In fact, it was a sorrowful and angry group that went down to the boats. These were on one side of the island, while those belonging to the Belden boys were beached on the other side.

Shiner had whispered his bright idea to Bobby and some of the others. Bobby was a little slow to accept it, but finally was convinced. The Beldens were watching them from the summit of the rocks.

Only one of the Rockledge boats was pushed into the water. Bobby, Shiner, Sparrow and Skeets Brody got in and took up the oars. They rowed away around the island.

Meanwhile the other boys collected a lot of pebbles as though they proposed to attack the Beldenites again. This would have been foolish, however, for the enemy had much the better position.

The two gangs were not above threats shouted to each other and make-believe dashes from either side. With volleys of stones and sod they kept up the interest in the fight for half an hour.

Then suddenly there came a shriek from some boy left on the other side of the island as a sentinel. He came flying, yelling his distress.

"Into the boats, boys!" Fred Martin commanded. "Bobby's got them."

They pushed off the two remaining boats and jumped in. At that moment the absent Rockledge boat appeared around the end of the island, and strung behind it, in one, two, three, four order were the boats belonging to the Belden boys. The latter were marooned.

"We've beaten them this time!" yelled Howell Purdy, with delight.

"You bet!" agreed Pee Wee. "We've been more'n a year getting them fixed just right. 'Member, Ginger, I told you and Bobby how those Bedlamites stole all our boats once? How about it now?"

There was great hilarity indeed. The boys from Rockledge manned the Belden boats and the whole flotilla pulled toward the south shore. At this place the lake was quite five miles wide and the island was in the middle. So the pull was quite arduous.

Besides, the wind had come up and there was a threatening black cloud mounting the sky. Soon thunder began to mutter in the distance, and the lightning tinged the lower edge of this cloud.

The first heavy thunder shower of the season was approaching.

As they rowed to the mainland, the Rockledge boys could see their enemies standing disconsolately on the shore, and wistfully looking after their boats.

"They'll get a nice soaking," declared Shiner. "Oh! maybe I'm not glad!"

"So am I," said Fred. "And we'll hide these boats—eh?"

"Sure," agreed Sparrow Bangs. "I know a dandy place right down at the edge of Monckton's farm. They wouldn't find them in a week of Sundays in the mouth of that creek."

The rain had begun to fall before the boys reached the shore. It was a lashing, dashing rain, with plenty of thunder and the sharpest kind of lightning. Several of the Rockledge boys were afraid of thunder and lightning, but they all took shelter in an old tobacco barn—the farmers of the Connecticut Valley raise a certain quality of tobacco.

For an hour the storm continued. Then the thunder died away, and the rain ceased. By that time it was almost dark, and the boys stood a good chance of being belated for supper.

They hid the stolen boats and went home in their own. As they rowed steadily down the edge of the lake, they looked out across the darkening water to the island, and did not see a spark of light there.

"Maybe they haven't a match," said Bobby, suddenly, after a little silence.

"I should hope not!" snapped Fred.

"Anyway, there's no dry wood after this rain," said his chum.

"Good!" repeated the red-haired one.

"They're going to have a mighty bad time," ruminated Bobby. Fred only grunted, and Bobby fell silent.

Just the same, there was a troublesome thought in Bobby Blake's mind. He had little to say after they got to the school, and remained silent all through supper.

The boys had changed their clothes. The clouds had blown away and it was a starlit evening. They had their choice of playing outside for a while, or going to the big study until retiring hour.

"I say," said Shiner, going about quickly among the Second Dormitory lads, "Bobby wants us all in the gym. Something doing."

Jimmy Ailshine was a good Mercury. He got most of the boys who had been to the island together, in five minutes.

Bobby looked dreadfully serious; Fred was scowling; Sparrow looked as though he did not know whether to laugh, or not.

"Go on, Bobby!" advised Pee Wee, yawning. "What's doing!"

"I'll tell you," shot in Bobby, without a moment's hesitation. "We've done an awfully mean thing, and we've got to undo it."

"What's that?" demanded Howell Purdy, in amazement.

"What we did to those Bedlamites," said Bobby, firmly. "We mustn't let them stay there all night. Some of us have got to take their boats back so that they can get ashore."

CHAPTER XXIII

GOOD NEWS TRAVELS SLOWLY

The crowd of scatterbrained youngsters were smitten speechless for the moment. They stared at Bobby Blake, and then looked at each other curiously. Pee Wee was the first to find his voice.

"Aw, cheese it, Bobby!" he drawled. "You're kidding us."

"No. We've done a mean thing. We'll get them into trouble over to their school—"

"Good enough!" cried Howell Purdy, in delight.

"And maybe we'll get into trouble because of it, too," went on Bobby, seriously. "But whether we do, or we don't, we oughtn't to leave those fellows over there on the island all night. It's a mean trick."

"Say! haven't they played many a mean trick on us?" demanded Pee Wee, excitedly.

"That has nothing to do with it," said Bobby, still seriously. "It's cold and wet on that island. Maybe they are all soaking wet from the rain-storm. Suppose they should get cold—all of them—some of them—only one of them?"

This was rather a grave way to put it. Bobby was not much more thoughtful than other boys of his age—and he not eleven; but the thing had gripped him hard.

"I tell you," he said, quietly, "if none of you will go back with me, I'll go alone."

"Shucks!" exclaimed Pee Wee, "you couldn't row up there alone, Bobby Blake, let alone tugging those four boats after you."

"Well! and he doesn't have to—see?" snapped Fred Martin, dragging on his cap over his red hair. "I guess two of us can do something." He grinned rather sheepishly at Bobby.

"Three," said Sparrow Bangs, briefly.

"Me, too," said the Mouser. "You can stay home, if you want to, Pee Wee. I'm going."

"Oh—very well!" groaned the fat boy. "You can count me in."

"And me! And me!" cried several.

In the end there were two boats full of volunteers who left the Rockledge boathouse, known only to the man who had charge of it, and rowed up to Monckton's farm. There they dragged the four Belden boats out of the mud, and towed them across to the island.

It was pretty dark, for there was no moon. The marooned youngsters heard them coming and began to shout, believing that it was a rescue party from their own school.

Bobby and Fred stood up and yelled to them to come down to the shore for their boats. There was a good deal of bandying talk, and the two sets of boys said some sharp things to each other, but they separated without a fight.

"They'll tell, of course, and the Old Doctor will make an investigation," said Fred, as they pulled for home.

"Sure!" groaned Shiner.

"But it won't be so bad for us as it would have been if we'd left them there for their own folks to find, and kept their boats hid," Pee Wee observed, with more thoughtfulness than he usually showed.

"And the Belden boys will be a deal more comfortable, eh?" chuckled Bobby.

There was an investigation. The Doctor conducted it himself. He went "back to the year one," as Barry Gray said, and considered all the causes of the rivalry between the two schools, and what each had done to the other.

The hot potato fight was taken into consideration, as well as the fact that the Belden schoolboys had once stolen every boat the Rockledge boys possessed, and hidden them for a week.

Then he rendered his decision: No party of boys without a teacher was to go to any of the islands. None of the boys were to venture across the lake to the Belden shore.

These decisions were repeated by the head of the Belden School, and from that time on there was less friction between the two institutions.

But, meanwhile, Dr. Raymond had heard all about Bobby Blake's action in the matter of the return of the boats to the marooned boys. He said nothing to Bobby about it, but he talked with his assistants.

This, too, made Bobby more popular with his mates. It had been the right thing to do, and, after all, boys respect a boy who is willing to do the right thing, even if it may make him unpopular for the time being.

The popularity that Bobby was winning at Rockledge School, however, was of a lasting kind. If Bobby said a thing, he meant it. If he made a promise, he stuck to it. He was no shirk, and no "goody-goody," and it began to be whispered around (goodness only knows how the story started) that Bobby might have a chance for the Medal of Honor if it was not for "Old Leith."

"What's Leith got it in for him for?" demanded the hot-headed Fred Martin. "What's Bobby ever done to him?"

"Something about Bobby's not giving away a fight," said Pee Wee, who had got the news pretty straight from a waitress, who had heard Mr. Leith and Mr. Carrin talking about it.

"Aw, get out!" muttered Fred, rather abashed. He suddenly remembered the fight he had started with Sparrow.

"Never was a Lower School boy yet that won the medal," said How Purdy.

"But we'd all pull for him—wouldn't we?" demanded Mouser. "I like Bob all right."

"I do, too," said Skeets Brody. "He was the only fellow that would stay in and play checkers with me, when I had the sore throat."

"He's done a lot of things for me," admitted Howell. "I haven't forgotten them."

"Well!" sighed Pee Wee. "I couldn't count the times Bobby's given me his pudding at supper."

"I guess we all like him," Sparrow said. "He's square as he can be. Old Leith hasn't anything against him, I don't believe. It's just his meanness."

"No," said Pee Wee. "It's because Bobby wouldn't tell on somebody. I put it up to Bobby myself, and he got mad and told me to mind my eye," and the fat boy grinned.

"Well! it gets me," said Shiner. "There haven't been many fights this year that Bobby could have been in. And he's not quarrelsome."

Fred said nothing. He was thinking hard, and from the expression on his face, it was apparent that his thoughts were not of a pleasant nature.

Bobby Blake certainly would have been surprised, had he known how his mates were talking about him. He went on his usual course now-a-days without much thought for the Medal of Honor.

Only, he did his best. For his absent mother's and father's sake, he did his best.

Where were they? The question was with him always. Deadened somewhat by time, the pain of his loss smarted just the same. He seldom mentioned the mystery, even to Fred. Nevertheless, there was at least one time in every day when he remembered it.

He was as earnest in his prayers at night for his parents' safety as ever he had been. He believed that some time he should hear good news.

It is famous that bad news travels quickly, while good news has leaden feet. It was so in this case.

The spring advanced. Mr. and Mrs. Blake had sailed from New York early in September, and nine months had nearly gone since then. The discovery of burned wreckage from the ship on which they had sailed was all the news that had ever come back to the United States regarding it.

There arrived in the port of Baltimore one day a bluff-bowed, frowsy-looking old two-stick schooner, with a tarnished figure-head under her patched bowsprit, dirty sails, and a bottom undoubtedly thick with barnacles.

She was the Ethelina, and she loafed into her dock as though she had never hurried within the knowledge of her owners. One of her owners stood upon her deck and gave orders—Captain Adoniram Speed.

His crew was partly made up of South American half-breeds, and the bulk of the crew of the steamship on which the Blakes had sailed, so long before, from New York.

The captain brought letters for various people from a trading station far up a tributary of the Amazon. Had not a sharp reporter, nosing about for news on the Baltimore docks, gotten into conversation with Captain Speed, it is likely that the newspapers would never have obtained the full story of the loss of the steamship in question.

She had burned only a few hundred miles off the mouth of the Amazon. It was rough weather at the time and two of the boats' crews and most of the passengers had lost their lives before the Ethelina came loafing along and had taken the remainder of the survivors aboard.

The Ethelina was bound for an up-river station. She had no reason for touching at Para or any other big city of Brazil. She kept right on her course, and her course chanced to be the route to be followed by Mr. and Mrs. Blake, who were among the few passengers rescued.

The old hooker sailed up the Amazon, and several hundred miles up the tributary on which was situated the town of Samratam, which was the Blakes' goal.

The Blakes left letters for the captain of the Ethelina to bring back to civilization. Captain Speed had not considered it necessary to hurry these letters along.

He had waited to bring them himself, to mail at Baltimore. Good news surely had traveled slowly in this case. Almost at the time the old schooner was being warped into her dock at Baltimore, Mr. and Mrs. Blake, in good health, expected to leave Samratam for the United States!

The letters came in good time to Clinton, and to Rockledge School. Dr. Raymond sat before his great, flat-topped desk one warm May morning staring at a letter written on thin notepaper, with a packet of similar letters, wrapped in an oiled-paper wrapper, before him on the desk.

Somehow his spectacles were clouded, and he had to take them off and wipe them twice before he could finish reading the business-like lines.

The second time he wiped the glasses and set them astride his big nose, he saw a small figure standing in the open doorway.

"Ha! Robert!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, sir."

"I sent for you, Robert," said the master of Rockledge School, in a very gruff voice—gruffer than usual, in fact.

"Yes, sir?" returned Bobby, timidly.

In spite of everything, he could not help being more than a little frightened of Dr. Raymond. He was so big, and he was so gruff when he spoke, and he had such searching eyes—usually—when he looked at one.

But stop! There was something entirely different about Dr. Raymond's eyes on this occasion. If Bobby Blake had not known that it was impossible, he would have believed that there were tears in the Doctor's eyes.

"Robert," the gentleman said, finally, seeming to have some difficulty in getting his words out. "Robert, did you ever hear the old saying that 'no news is good news'?"

Bobby had no answer. His lips opened. He really thought he said "Yes, sir." But there was such a roaring in his ears, and his heart suddenly pounded so hard, that he could scarcely hear.

The furniture began to go around him in a sort of stately dance—and the good doctor went with the furniture! It was very curious. Bobby tried to rub his eyes free of the water that welled up, with his coat sleeves.

"Yes, Robert; 'no news is good news.' We haven't heard for months from those whom we wished to hear from. But always I have told you to keep up heart—"

Bobby could stand no more. He flung himself forward, around the corner of the great desk. He grabbed at the Doctor's coatsleeve before he could swim away from him again.

"My mother! my father! You've heard—?"

"They're all right, Robert! they're all right!" exclaimed the Doctor—and did his voice break strangely as he said it? "There, there, my boy! They're safe as can be and here's a whole packet of letters for you from them. Don't cry, my boy—"

But Bobby wasn't crying. It seemed to him that he never should cry again.

"Tell me!" he gasped, still clinging to the Doctor's arm. "Did—did she get her feet wet? Or is she all right? She didn't get the—the bron-skeeters, did she? Father was always afraid of that, if she got cold."

CHAPTER XXIV

RED HAIR STANDS FOR MORE THAN TEMPER

June had come. The regatta on Monatook Lake was but a few days away; Commencement followed. Even the boys of the Lower School were working hard to make up lost lessons these days.

Captain Gray was to graduate, and with him Max Bender and five of the other big boys. There would be at least seven new scholars to come to Rockledge the next September, for there were never less than fifty boys at the school and—as has been said—Dr. Raymond always had a waiting list.

Mr. Leith devoted most of his time to the older boys; but every fortnight, at least, he went over the reports of the entire school. He was a stiff and stern master, but he considered himself just. For that reason he called Bobby Blake to his desk one day and said:

"Robert, I am sorry there is a serious fault marked against you. In recitations you have done better than any boy in the Lower School and better than most in the Upper. But I do not like a stubborn boy; we can none of us—we teachers, I mean—excuse such a fault as that. I hear good reports of you in every direction, and your name has been mentioned among the few who stand a chance of winning the Medal of Honor.

"It is a most serious matter for a boy to refuse to answer proper questions put to him by those who have him in charge. You must learn this now. To obey is your duty. Do you realize that?"

"Yes, sir," said Bobby in a low tone, and swallowing hard. "I understand, sir."

What he understood was that, if he had been willing to tell on his chum, and Shiner, and Sparrow, he might have won the medal. But he could not do that!

He had never thought of taking the matter up with Dr. Raymond. An older boy—Captain Gray, for instance—might have gone to the Doctor and stated his side of the case. But Bobby did not question for a moment the right of Mr. Leith to put in that report against him.

It was pretty hard for the boy to bear. He wanted so much to write his parents that he had won the distinction of the gold medal Dr. Raymond had shown them on that first day of school. The Lower School was solid for Bobby and many of the older lads admired the pluck and good humor of the boy from Clinton. His strongest partisans were Fred Martin and Sparrow Bangs, who admired him so much because he was so different from themselves, perhaps.

Pee Wee was Bobby's staunch champion, too. The fat boy boldly declared his admiration for the Clinton boy in any company.

"There isn't another boy like him," Pee Wee said in gymnasium one day, when Bobby was absent. "Say! there's not one of you big fellows but what he's done a favor for—and more than once. I say—"

"Come! you needn't froth at the mouth over it," growled Max Bender.

"Huh! you haven't anything to say against Bobby," declared Pee Wee.

"I know I haven't," returned Max, red to his ears. "I'd vote for him right now. Barry can't get the medal anyway.

"He doesn't stand well enough in Latin and physics for one thing," pursued Max. "He knows it. Barry's a good fellow, and the Old Doc. is proud of him, I reckon; but he never was a bone for work."

Pee Wee was inspired by this statement to "root" all the harder for Bobby Blake.

"He can get it, I know!" the fat boy kept saying. "There isn't another boy in the school stands as good a chance."

"But if Mr. Leith is bound not to vote for him, what chance is there for Bobby? Tell me that, now?" demanded Fred Martin.

"What's Old Leith got against him?" asked one of the other boys.

"Oh, it's that fight," said Pee Wee, with a side glance at Fred.

"You've said that before," Skeets Brody observed. "I don't know about any fight Bobby's been in since he came here."

"Oh, he wasn't in it," returned Pee Wee.

Fred's face colored deeply. He waited his chance and got the fat boy aside. "What's all this about Bobby fighting?" he demanded. "You know something more than you're telling."

"You know," said the fat boy.

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do; and Sparrow knows, and Shiner knows—"

"That old thing!" exclaimed Fred. "Who told you about it? And it happened months ago."

"Old Leith doesn't forget easily. You and Sparrow had a scrap, didn't you?"

"Who told you so?"

"Never you mind. I know you are as thick as thieves now," grinned Pee Wee. "But there was a time when you and Sparrow were going to knock each other's heads off. Isn't that so?"

"Aw—it wasn't a fight," growled Fred.

"And Bobby was in it."

"What if he was?"

"Leith knows. He caught Bobby somehow. And Bobby wouldn't tell on the rest of you," said Pee Wee. "That's how he got in bad with Mr. Leith, and it's what is going to keep him out of winning that medal—yes, it is!"

"Wow! I didn't know it was like that," gasped the red-haired boy. "Bobby ran back for my cap. I remember now. I thought Leith only punished him by keeping him shut in for three days."

"Huh! that's the how of it, is it?"

"He never said a word about it," declared Fred, gulping. "He's never peeped that Old Leith was holding it up against him."

"I know," declared Pee Wee, nodding. "He tried to make Bobby tell on you fellows, and Bobby wouldn't. So that busted up his chance of getting the medal."

"Why!" murmured Fred, "he's been working just as hard for it all the time."

The fat boy seemed to have a little better appreciation of Bobby's character than his own chum. "Why!" he said. "I reckon Bobby would do his best anyway. He's that kind of a fellow."

Fred went to the dressing room and slowly got out of his gymnasium suit and stood under the shower. He was puzzled and disturbed. It was not his way to think very deeply.

But red hair stands for something besides a quick temper. Such hair usually belongs to a warm heart. Fred, if thoughtless, was as loyal to his chum as Damon was to Pythias, and all boys have read the story of those famous friends.

Fred had taken it for granted that Bobby's punishment, on that long-past occasion, was completed when he had remained indoors at Mr. Leith's command. Fred did not suppose it had gone farther.

Bobby had never said a word. Of course, he would not have! that was Bobby's way.

It smote Fred Martin hard that if Bobby lost his chance to win the medal, it would be partly his fault. And Bobby had tried to keep him out of the fight with Sparrow, in the first place!

The fight had not done him, or Sparrow, or Shiner, a bit of harm. He and Sparrow had been the best of friends ever since that day in the "bloody corner"! But poor Bobby—

"It's a mean shame," Fred muttered to himself. "Old Leith's not fair. What business has he got holding that against Bobby! He's punishing Bobby for our sins. It's a shame!"

Thinking about it, or talking about it, was not going to help his chum in the least. Fred had been a little afraid that some of the reports that had gone home to his father would call forth from Mr. Martin sharp criticism. He knew he did not stand any too well in his own classes, and in deportment.

He had not been caught in any great fault. However, if Mr. Leith knew that he had been fighting that day in the corner, it would mean a big, black smear on his report for the year. That was just as sure as could be.

"And Dad said if I didn't show up good this year, he'd take me into the store and make me run errands, and send me back to public school," thought Master Fred.

"Gracious! that would leave Bobby here alone. Not to come back to Rockledge next fall—"

The red-haired boy could not bear to think of such a calamity. It was certainly most awful to contemplate.

He got into his clothing and wandered out of the gymnasium. Nobody chanced to speak to him and he stood on the school steps for some minutes turning a very hard problem over in his mind.

And then a thought, like a keen-bladed rapier, stabbed Fred right in his most vulnerable point—his conscience!

"What does it matter if Bobby does appear cheerful? You're wrong!

"Oh, crickey!" groaned the red-haired boy, and he turned square around and climbed the steps. With dragging footsteps he made his way to Mr. Leith's class-room, where he knew he should find the master correcting examination papers.

Pee Wee, having gotten hold of one end of the thread, unraveled the whole piece in short order. He soon had the truth out of Sparrow and Shiner about the long-forgotten fight in "bloody corner."

The fat boy was something more than a gossip, however. He, whose mind seemed usually interested mainly in food, proved that he could think of something else.

He wasted little time on the Lower School but it was not long before every other boy at Rockledge knew how Bobby had pluckily—and silently—suffered for the wrong three other boys had done.

Pee Wee knew that the threat of the loss of the medal had hung over Bobby all the time. He—and the other boys, too—knew that Bobby's record was otherwise clean.

"Vote for Bobby Blake—he's all right!" became the rallying cry all over the school, and even Captain Gray took it up.

"You know, fellows," he said to his particular chums, "I haven't a ghost of a show for the medal. I'd like to get it, but your votes wouldn't win it for me. And I declare! beside Bobby, I don't think I deserve it."

The boys had a chance to express their individual opinion about the winner of the medal by secret ballot, several days before the actual vote was taken. In this way the teachers learned just who was most popular with the boys at large.

A slip was given each boy in class, on which was printed "First Choice," "Second Choice," "Third Choice." Every fellow in the Lower School wrote Bobby's name against each choice!

And when the teachers, Mr. Leith and Mr. Carrin, came to count the votes from the other boys, Bobby's name predominated by a good majority. There were still some faithful to Barry Gray, and one or two other boys were named for the medal; but on every slip save two, Bobby's name appeared as either first, second, or third choice. Those two particular slips did not have Barry Gray's name on them, either, and the astute teachers recognized the handwriting of Bill Bronson and Jack Jinks!

If, after this first ballot, there were names voted for, whose owners could not possibly win the medal, because of their standing with the teachers, the fact was to be made known by the Doctor. The whole school waited, most anxiously, for Dr. Raymond's decision in this case.