The Putnam Hall Cadets; or, Good Times in School and Out

"Hurrah, Jack, I've got news! To-morrow we are going to ballot for officers!"

"I'm glad to hear that," answered Jack Ruddy, as he threw down the algebra he had been studying. "I was almost afraid we weren't going to have officers this term."

"I suppose Captain Putnam wanted to find out if there was any military material here before he let us fellows take charge," went on Pepper Ditmore, as he swung himself up on a corner of the dormitory table. "Tell you what, Jack, it's a great thing to organize a school like this, and get everything in working order, all in six weeks."

"Do you think you are organized, Pep?" queried Jack Ruddy, with a twinkle in his eyes.

"I'm organized about as much as I'll ever be," returned Pepper Ditmore. "You can't expect a fellow like me to settle down and be as quiet as a lamb, can you?"

"No, you're more like a jumping-jack. The fellows don't call you the Imp for nothing."

"It's a base slander," returned Pepper Ditmore, with an injured air. "I'm as meek, sometimes--"

"When you are asleep."

"As a-a--"

"Circus clown. By the way, have they found out yet who mixed the salt and sugar last Saturday?"

"Can't say as they have."

"And who put that little bulldog in Josiah Crabtree's bedroom in the dark?"

"They haven't asked me about it," and now Pepper Ditmore began to grin.

"Then let me congratulate you on your escape," and Jack Ruddy smiled broadly.

"Let's change the subject, Jack. Don't you want to be an officer of the Putnam Hall Cadet Corps? I should think that would just suit you. Your father was an army officer."

"It would suit me first-rate. But the fellows don't know much about me. Most of them are strangers to me."

"Well, they are mostly strangers to each other. If you want to become an officer, say the word and I'll do the electioneering for you."

"Don't you want to be an officer yourself?"

At this question Pepper Ditmore gave a merry laugh.

"I'd make a fine-looking officer, wouldn't I?" he returned. "No, I'll remain a high private in the rear rank-and take my sport in some other way."

"And you expect me to be an officer over you, Pep? How in the world will I manage you?"

"By not trying, Jack. But come, are you going to be an officer or not? As a battalion, we are to have a major, two captains, two first lieutenants, two second lieutenants, and a lot of sergeants and corporals. I want to see you a captain at least."

"That's kind."

"I'd rather see you an officer than that Dan Baxter. Do you know, Jack, I don't like that chap at all."

"No more do I. He is very overbearing. I heard him bossing some of the little fellows around in regular slave-driver style."

"Well, he shan't boss me around."

"Oh, it's not likely he'll bother the big boys," came from Jack Ruddy, as he arose from his chair and stretched himself. "Those chaps usually make the little fellows toady to them. What time is it?"

"Just five o'clock."

"Then come on down to the lake and have a row before supper."

At that moment something soft, thrown up through the open dormitory window, struck Jack Ruddy on the shirt bosom. It was a lump of mud, and it left quite a mark behind.

"Hi, there, who threw that?" he cried, angrily, as he rushed for the window. He was just in time to see a lank youth diving out of sight behind some bushes.

"I know that lad," came from Pepper Ditmore. "His name is John Fenwick, but they call him Mumps."

"I'll Mumps him!" retorted Jack Ruddy. "Come on!" And he rushed out of the dormitory, and down the broad stairway three steps at a time. He was just near the bottom when he passed a tall and rather sour-looking teacher, who was coming up.

"Master Ruddy, not so fast--" began the teacher, when of a sudden Pepper Ditmore struck the man on the shoulder, hurling him flat on his back at the foot of the stairs.

"Oh, excuse me, Mr. Crabtree!" burst out the cadet. "I-er-I didn't mean to run into you!"

"Yo-you imp!" spluttered Josiah Crabtree. "What do you mean by tearing downstairs like a-a cyclone?"

"We're after a fellow who threw some mud up into our room," explained Jack Ruddy.

"I didn't see you coming," added Pepper. "Very sorry-it shan't occur again."

"This jumping downstairs has got to be stopped!" fumed Josiah Crabtree. "I shall make an example of you, Ditmore. Go back to your classroom and write this sentence one hundred times: 'It is best to walk with care.'"

"Have I got to go back now?" cried Pepper.

"At once."

"It isn't fair, Mr. Crabtree. I didn't mean to run into you; really, I didn't."

"Stop! I want no back talk. To the classroom instantly."

"Mr. Crabtree," put in Jack Ruddy, "please--"

"Silence, Master Ruddy, or I shall send you, too."

"Catch that boy if you can, Jack," said Pepper, and walked slowly towards his classroom. Josiah Crabtree saw him enter, and saw Jack Ruddy leave the building, and then continued on his way upstairs.

Jack Ruddy and Pepper Ditmore were chums. Both hailed from the western part of New York State, and they had arrived at Putnam Hall about a month before this tale opens. Jack was a few months older than Pepper, but the youths were of the same size and weight. Jack was of a serious turn and studious, while Pepper was rightly called the Imp, on account of his fun-loving disposition.

At the time of which I write, Putnam Hall was a new institution of learning. It was located on Cayuga Lake, in New York State, not many miles from the village of Cedarville. It was a handsome structure of brick and stone, standing in the middle of a parade ground of about ten acres. In front was a well-kept wagon road, and beyond this the grounds sloped down to the lake, where were located the academy boathouse and bathing houses. To the rear of the school were the barns and a storehouse, and on one side a well-fitted-up gymnasium, all backed up by a stretch of thick woods.

On the ground floor of the Hall, which was built in the shape of the letter E, were located the classrooms and also a drillroom and a messroom, all reached by three entrances, each of imposing appearance. Above the ground floor were the sleeping apartments, those for the students divided into dormitories holding four, six, or eight cadets.

The master of the school was Captain Victor Putnam, a bachelor, and a West Point graduate. The captain had seen strenuous service in the West, where he had fought under the gallant General Custer during several Indian uprisings. But a fall from a horse had placed him on a sick bed, and when he regained his health he decided to give up army life, and go back to his former profession of teaching. Money had been left to him, and with this he purchased the grounds and built the academy.

As was to be expected from a military man, the school was organized upon military lines, and each cadet was given instructions in military duties daily. All were clothed in neat but serviceable uniforms, and there was a general parade each day, just before supper.

To get the school into proper shape, Captain Putnam had hired three retired officers of the army to drill the boys daily. Under their tuition all of the scholars had learned rapidly, and now the master of the Hall was about to let the cadets choose their own officers and do their own drilling, under his sole management.

Captain Putnam was a well-educated man, and taught several classes in the school, besides looking after the general management. His head assistant was Josiah Crabtree, just introduced, and his second assistant was George Strong, whom we shall meet later.

Josiah Crabtree was a morose individual, with a very exalted opinion of himself. He had come to the Hall with high recommendations, but it cannot be said that Captain Putnam liked the man, and as for the cadets, they nearly all hated him.

Leaving the building, Jack Ruddy hurried to the spot where his chum had seen the boy called Mumps. He found the boy talking earnestly to a big, burly youth, who carried a baseball bat in his hand.

"It was lots of fun," Mumps was saying, as Jack strode up. "I struck Andy Snow, and Hen Lee, and some fellows in dormitory No. 4, and--"

"And you struck me, you sneak!" cried Jack, catching the boy by the arm. "I suppose you thought it fine fun to cover me with mud."

"Hi! let me go!" cried Mumps, in sudden alarm. "Let me go. I-I-didn't do anything."

"You threw a lump of mud up into our room and struck me."

"I-I-didn't--"

"You can't get out of it. I've a good mind to box your ears, Mumps."

"Say, you let that kid alone," came from the big boy with the baseball bat. "Leave him alone, I say!"

"See here, Dan Baxter, this is none of your quarrel," retorted Jack.

"Let him alone."

"I'll let him alone when I feel like it."

"You'll let him alone now."

"Will I?" Jack caught Mumps by the collar and shook him thoroughly. "Now, after this, you behave yourself, or I'll thrash you good," he went on.

"Oh! oh!" screamed the boy. "Le-let up! Don't-don't shake my head off!"

"Stop it!" roared Dan Baxter. "Stop it!" And rushing in he took hold of Jack and tried to draw him back.

"Baxter, let go of me," said Jack, quietly, but with determination. "If you don't--"

"What?" came from the big youth with a sneer.

"That!" retorted Jack, and turning from Mumps, he gave a quick push that sent Dan Baxter flat on the turf.