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"We can't stand and fight nine of 'em we'll be snowed under." "Rush it is," returned the young major. "Wait till I give the signal." On came the enemy, and soon the snowballs were flying at a lively rate. It was growing dark, but the aim of the Pornell students was good and the chums were hit several times. They threw snowballs in return, hitting Bock in the breast and Grimes in the chin.
"I see you air dressed in cadet uniforms," remarked the farmer, as the party proceeded on its way. "Be you fellers from Pornell school?" "No; we come from Putnam Hall," answered Tom. "Oh, yes 'bout the same thing, I take it. How is matters up to the school larnin' a heap?" "We are trying to learn all we have to." "Had some trouble up thar, didn't ye? My wife's brother was a-tellin' me about it.
Soon it came out on a country road that ran in the direction of Putnam Hall. It was an ideal day in early September, and the cadets returning to the school were in high spirits. One started to sing and the others joined in. "Hello, there goes the Pornell Academy stage!" cried Pepper, presently.
But weight does not always count for everything, even in a football match. "Time for practice is up!" came presently, and the two teams drew away from the gridiron. Then there was a toss-up for goals, and Pornell won and took the east end, that which was most favored by the slight breeze that was blowing. And then the great game began.
Of this race a gentleman from Cedarville, named Mr. Richards, was to be the starter and judge. The course was a short mile, down the lake and back again. The Pornell boys to enter were named Gray, Wardham, Gussy, and De Long. The contestants from Putnam Hall were Tom Rover, Fred Garrison, Tubbs, and a lad named Hollbrook. "Are you ready?" asked Mr.
Tom felt more hopeful, but immediately after came three balls and then four balls, and amid a cheer from his friends the Pornell player walked to first base. The second man at the bat went out on a foul, and the cadets cheered this time. Then came a strong hit to left field, and in came one run. "Hurrah! 3 to 2 in Pornell's favor!" "You've got 'em on the run now, boys; keep it up!"
In the next volume of the series, called "The Putnam Hall Encampment," I told how the cadets left the Hall and marched to a distant lake. Their camping outfit was sent ahead by wagons, but the wagons got lost, and were finally found in the possession of Roy Bock and some other students of Pornell, they having made off with them while the drivers were in a roadhouse obtaining refreshments.
The challenge was brought, by Peleg Snuggers, who had gone over to Pornell's on an errand for Captain Putnam. "It's for you," said Snuggers, handing the communication to Sam. "The youthful captain of the eleven broke open the letter and read it aloud: "PORNELL ACADEMY, November 18, 189-
"I don't know," answered Dale. "I rather think the captain is sore over the reply he got from the head of that school, over the carryall affair, and maybe he won't let us play them." And in this Dale was correct. Pornell was cut out that season, but it played Putnam Hall the year following. Dale Blackmore was at the head of the football eleven, and, as before, he organized a fine team.
"I've got news!" cried Pepper, a few days before the game was to come off. "Some of the Pornell students are coming to the game, and I understand they are going to try to make trouble for our team." "Is it the Roy Bock crowd?" questioned Jack. "Yes." "Then it is up to you to keep an eye on them, Pepper. We can't do it while we are playing." "I'll keep an eye on 'em, don't fear," was the answer.
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