Dave Porter on Cave Island: or, A Schoolboy's Mysterious Mission. Stratemeyer Edward

boys, if anybody should ask you, you can tell him it is snowing some,” puffed Buster, who was struggling to keep up with those in front. “If it wasn’t that we were on the river, it would be easy to lose our way.”

      “That’s true,” replied Dave. “The snow seems to be coming down heavier every minute.”

      “Yes, and the wind is coming up,” added Roger. “We’ll have a hard time of it reaching the Hall. We’ll never do it by supper-time.”

      “Then where are we going to get something to eat?” demanded Buster. “I’m not going without my supper just because I can’t get back.”

      “Perhaps we can get something at some farmhouse,” suggested Phil.

      “I’ve got an idea!” cried Dave. “Why can’t we get some farmer to hook up a carriage or a sleigh and take us to the Hall that way?”

      “Hurrah, just the cheese!” cried Ben, who did not relish walking such a distance. “The thing is, though, to find the farmer,” he continued soberly.

      “Keep your eyes open for lights,” suggested Dave, and this was done.

      A quarter of a mile more was covered, the students hugging the north shore of the stream, as that afforded the most shelter from the rising wind. Then Roger gave a cry.

      “I think I saw a light through the snow! Just look that way, fellows, and see if I am right.”

      All gazed in the direction indicated, and presently three of the boys made out a glimmer, as if it came from a lantern being swung to and fro. Then the light disappeared.

      “Perhaps it’s some farmer going out to care for his cattle,” said Dave. “Let us walk over and see,” and this was done.

      Dave was correct in his surmise, and soon the boys approached a big cow-shed, through a window of which they saw the faint rays of a lantern. Just as they did this they heard a voice cry out in wonder.

      “What be you fellers a-doin’ in my cow-shed?”

      “Oh, we just came in to rest out of the storm,” was the answer, in a voice that sounded strangely familiar to Dave. “We are not going to hurt your shed any, or the cattle either.”

      “It’s Mallory, of Rockville!” whispered Dave to his fellow students, naming the cadet who was the star hockey player of the military academy team.

      “And Bazen and Holt are with him,” added Phil, gazing through a partly-open doorway, and naming two other Rockville cadets.

      “Hello, who’s out there?” cried the owner of the cow-shed, and, lantern in hand, he turned to survey the newcomers.

      “Why, it’s Mr. Opper!” cried Sam. “Don’t you remember me? I called last summer, to see some of your young lady boarders.”

      “Oh, yes, I remember you,” replied Homer Opper. “You hired my dappled mare for a ride.”

      “That’s it, Mr. Opper. Say, that mare could go.”

      “Go? Ain’t no hossflesh in these parts kin beat her,” cried the farmer proudly. “She won the prize at the last county fair, she did! But wot brung ye here, sech a night as this?” added Homer Opper curiously.

      “Hello, Porter, old man!” cried Mallory, rising from a box on which he had been seated and shaking hands. “Caught in the storm, too, eh?”

      “Yes,” answered Dave. He gazed curiously at the Rockville cadet and his companions. “Been up the river?”

      “Not any further than this.”

      “Hunting?”

      “No, skating. We would be going back, only Holt broke one of his skates and that delayed us. Been out hunting, eh? Any luck?”

      “Some – good and bad. We shot some rabbits, squirrels, and partridges, and we likewise had our hamper, our skates, an overcoat, and some other things stolen.”

      “Stolen!” cried Homer Opper. “By gum, thet’s tough luck! Who tuk the things?”

      “That is what we want to find out,” and as Dave spoke he looked sharply at Mallory and the other Rockville cadets.

      “Not guilty,” came promptly from Bazen. “Honest Injun, Porter, if you think we touched your things, you are on the wrong track; isn’t that so, fellows?”

      “It is,” came promptly from Mallory and Holt. Then suddenly the star hockey player of Rockville Academy let out a long, low whistle of surprise.

      “You know something?” demanded Dave.

      “Maybe I do,” was Mallory’s slow answer. “Yes, I am sure I do,” he added. “You can put the puzzle together yourself if you wish, Porter – because, you see, I hate to accuse anybody.”

      “What do you know?”

      “I know this: Less than an hour ago we met two fellows on the river, one with a hamper and the other with a bundle that looked as if it was done up in an overcoat turned inside out. We came on the fellows rather suddenly, at a turn where there were some bushes.”

      “Our stuff, as sure as you’re a foot high!” cried Phil.

      “Who were the fellows, do you know?” demanded the senator’s son.

      At this question Mallory looked at Holt and Bazen.

      “I wasn’t exactly sure, but – ” He hesitated to go on.

      “I was sure enough,” chimed in Holt. “They were those chaps who came to our school from Oak Hall and then ran away – Jasniff and Merwell. How about it, Tom?”

      “I think they were Jasniff and Merwell,” answered Tom Bazen. “To be sure, as soon as they saw us, they skated away as fast as they could, and kept their faces hidden. But if they weren’t Jasniff and Merwell they were pretty good doubles.”

      “Jasniff and Merwell,” murmured Dave, and his heart sank a little. Here was more underhanded work of his old enemies.

      The farmer and the Rockville cadets were anxious to hear the particulars of the happening, and the Oak Hall lads told of what had occurred.

      “I know those chaps,” said Homer Opper. “They stayed here one night last summer. But they cut up so the boarders didn’t like it, so my wife told ’em she didn’t have no room for ’em, an’ they left. They ought to be locked up.”

      “They will be locked up, if we can lay hands on them,” replied Phil.

      “They must have followed us to Squirrel Island, and spied on us,” said Shadow. “Ben, you were right about seeing somebody. It must have been either Merwell or Jasniff.”

      “Have you any idea where they went?” asked the shipowner’s son.

      “No, they skated away behind an island and that’s the last we saw of them,” answered Mallory.

      “Yes, and I reckon it’s the last we’ll hear of our things,” returned Buster, mournfully. “But come on, let us see about getting back,” he continued. “It’s ‘most time for supper now.”

      “Mr. Opper, can you take us back to Oak Hall?” asked Dave. “We’ll pay you for your trouble.”

      The farmer looked at the students and rubbed his chin reflectively. Then he gazed out at the storm and the snow-covered ground.

      “Might hook up my big sleigh and do it,” he said. “But it would be quite a job.”

      “What would it be worth?” asked Ben.

      “Oh, I dunno – three or four dollars, at least. It’s a tough night to be out in – an’ I’d have to drive back, or put up at the town all night.”

      “Supposing we gave you fifty cents apiece,” suggested Roger.

      “And we’ll go along – as far as Rockville, at the same price – if you’ll have us,” added Mallory, quickly.

      “Why,