  It was a black moment for the two cadets in the grasp of the caretaker. With the cup in their possession and the task to which they had set themselves almost successfully completed it was little short of heartbreaking to miss the mark in this fashion. The man who held them was a big and powerful man and they knew by the iron grip upon their shoulders that resistance was out of the question. It was possible for them to put up a fight, of course, but it would probably take them so long that the entire effort would be useless. Terry was the first to recover his wits. The man who held them was not looking up into the tree; he looked in grim satisfaction at them and apparently had no knowledge of the presence of Don above him. Terry realized that the other must be warned quickly. “Well, Mr. Caretaker,” he said, loudly. “You seem to have taken my friend and me prisoners. What are you going to do about it?” “I’m going to run you kids down to the town lockup in a mighty big hurry and put you behind the bars for housebreaking,” the man replied. A very slight scraping noise in the tree above them ceased abruptly as the sound of the different voices could be heard on the night air. For a second there was an agony of doubt in Terry’s mind, but the man did not look up. “You can’t prove that we were housebreaking,” said Jim, the idea suddenly dawning upon him. “I can’t, heh?” snorted the man. “Then why else—” The sentence was never completed. Something big and heavy that closely resembled a boy in a gray uniform shot down out of the tree, landing with all force upon the shoulders of the caretaker. Under the impact of Don’s body the man fell forward, losing his hold on the shoulders of Jim and Terry. Don went down too, but was up like a shot. “Beat it as fast as you can!” he cried, seeing that Jim had the box in his hand. “The overcoats!” cried Jim, as Terry darted forward. “Got ’em,” the boy shouted. “Let’s go!” A roar burst from the man as he scrambled to his feet, slightly dazed by the force and suddenness of the encounter. At the same time the side door of the house opened and the butler appeared. But by this time the three cadets were running like frightened deer over the lawn in the direction of the street. “There they go!” shouted the caretaker. “Stop them!” He began to run in their direction, but he was no match for the fleet cadets. By the time he reached the street the cadets were turning the corner a block away and were soon lost to sight. Back at the house Arthur Gates snorted with rage. “Wait until I get dressed, Arthur,” commanded the senior Gates. “Order the car out at once.” “Where are you going?” the son asked. “Right up to the school to make the colonel pay dearly for this outrage!” shouted Melvin Gates, entering the house. Meanwhile the three were on their way to the school, talking over their lucky escape. “Let’s take the back streets, fellows,” Don advised. “There was quite an uproar at Gates’ house and we don’t want to meet up with any police who might be suspicious. Of course we could explain things to the chief but the thing we want to do is to get back to the school as fast as we can.” “OK,” agreed Terry. “I guess we had better get into our overcoats, Jim. We’re pretty heated up and we don’t want to catch cold.” “No, we don’t,” said Jim. “Here, you hold the cup, Don.” When they had put on their coats Terry chuckled. “I want to compliment you on being a huge success as a sky rocket, Don! The way you shot down out of that tree onto that fellow’s shoulders was a treat!” “I couldn’t have done it if you and Jim hadn’t been so prompt to warn me of what was going on down there,” said Don. “I had no idea, from up in the tree, that there was anyone else down there with you.” “He must have been prowling around and heard us up there,” Jim said. “I didn’t hear him come up and the first thing I knew about him was when he grabbed my shoulder. It was a good thing that he thought there were only two of us.” “When I dropped out of the tree I saw him, but it was too late to do anything about it,” explained Terry. “My first impulse was to yell to Don, but that would have been the worst thing I could have done.” “Yes,” smiled Don. “As it was, it turned out for the best. He certainly went flying. Somebody coming fellows, and it looks like a policeman!” “Had we better duck him?” whispered Jim. “I think we had,” admitted Don. “He must know that cadets aren’t usually on the streets at this hour and the least he’ll do is to question us. He may even want to go up to the school with us, and we don’t want that.” “No, we don’t,” Terry supplied. “He hasn’t seen us yet, so let’s slide in here.” There was a garage close by with a narrow alley running alongside it and the boys quickly glided into it. But this particular policeman strolled right by the place and was soon lost in the darkness of the long street. When they were sure that he was safely out of sight they emerged from their hiding places. “Whew, that was close, too,” commented Terry, as they resumed their way. “It would have been bad for us if we had been caught,” admitted Jim. “Let’s hustle up to the school.” The streets were all deserted and the houses black, for the hour was late. The three cadets met no one else as they hastened on to the school. They entered the grounds with a sense of profound relief. “I hope that the colonel is still up,” Don said. “He will be,” predicted Terry. “He knew what an errand we went on and he’ll be waiting for us.” Terry proved to be a true prophet. When they entered the school office they found the colonel there waiting for them. He was impatiently tapping a long letter-opener on the desk, and at the sound of their entrance he sprang to his feet, glancing sharply at the clock. “We beg to report ourselves back, Colonel Morrell,” said Don, saluting and smiling at the same time. The others saluted at once and the colonel somewhat hastily returned it. “And I’m more than glad to see you back here,” the colonel exploded. “I’ve been worrying about you. Did you have any luck?” “Unless I am greatly mistaken we have the cup right with us, in this box,” said Don quietly. He placed it on the desk. “We’ll open it and see,” the colonel stated. A hammer was procured from a nearby closet and with a few swift blows the colonel broke open the wooden box. As the last board fell away a somewhat tarnished silver cup was disclosed to view. The colonel raised it from the box and they looked at the inscription on the side. It read: “Presented to Woodcrest Military Institute by Melvin R. Gates for Excellence in Scholastic Effort. Won by Arthur F. Gates of the Senior Class, April 7, 1933.” “That’s the cup,” murmured Jim. Without a word the colonel turned it up so they could all see what was written on the bottom. All of them craned forward to read the brief message which had been written deep into the silver by the aid of a pin or knife. The message was simple but tragic. It read: “I cheated. Arthur Gates.” There was a moment of silence on the part of the colonel and his loyal cadets. Then the colonel said very quietly, “You see what it means, boys?” “I think I do,” nodded Don in a low voice. “After Gates had promised Long that he would confess his dishonorable action he said he would write it where it would stand for good. Long didn’t know what he meant by that, but when he had left the room Gates scratched that confession on the bottom of the cup with a sharp instrument.” “Yes,” went on the colonel. “Long never knew of that, and during the night Gates must have experienced a change of heart, so he took the cup on the following morning. He knew that Long would expose him if he went back on his promise to confess, so he stole that cup in order to create an atmosphere that would make Long the butt of ridicule if he ever came out with the story of Gates’ dishonesty.” “How can a man with any sense of common decency do a thing like that?” wondered Jim. The colonel shrugged his shoulders. “I’m very much afraid that Arthur Gates was never a shining light of virtue. We have found out that he was dismissed from at least one school for an offense such as he committed here. You can see that he would never have the courage to face the school and say, ‘Gentlemen, I cheated.’ Under Long’s persuasion he relented long enough to write the confession on the cup, but I guess he bitterly regretted his act later.” “The cup was a nightmare to him,” said Jim. “He didn’t have the nerve to take it to a jeweler, so he kept it hidden in his own house.” “Things are getting pretty bad,” murmured Terry, staring at the simple confession on the cup. “A fellow can’t tell a lie without having it come back after him years later!” “That’s something a man can never escape,” replied the colonel briefly. “But tell me how you got the cup.” Don related his share and the other two boys had just finished telling their part in the adventure when there was the sound of a car stopping outside the school door. The sound of determined footsteps followed and then the hall door was opened. Don, guessing what was in the wind, pushed the cup from sight under the colonel’s desk. A slight nod from the portly headmaster showed that he grasped the situation. Melvin Gates strode into the office with his son Arthur at his heels. The elder Gates was fairly bristling and his son wore a blustering air that deceived no one. Melvin Gates shot a triumphant glance at the assembled party and then addressed the colonel. “Look here, Morrell, do you know that these boys have been breaking into my house tonight?” he rasped. “Yes,” said the colonel. “You do, eh?” shouted the irate man. “Maybe you sent them to do it, eh?” “No,” the colonel denied. “I only told them to go to your garden, but as long as they found it necessary to go into your house I’m glad of it!” The elder Gates became purple in the face and Arthur stepped forward. “Look here, Colonel Morrell, this is no joking matter. I’m going to have these boys locked up!” The colonel only smiled. Melvin Gates rapped the desk with his cane. “So you teach your boys housebreaking, do you, colonel?” he cried. “Why no,” said the colonel, thoughtfully. “That isn’t part of the program. But we do teach them to play the game of life honorably and to put forth every ounce of their strength to find out the truth and do the square thing!” “Oh, what nonsense are you talking now?” growled Melvin Gates. The eyes of the colonel blazed as he reached under his desk and brought up the silver cup. “This is the preaching that speaks for itself, Gates. After you have taken a good look at the bottom of this cup I want to hear you say that you intend to lock my boys up!” The faces of the two turned pale when they saw the inscription on the bottom of the cup. Melvin shot an angry glance at his son. “I told you to get rid of that thing long ago,” he cried. “These boys have been after that cup for months, Mr. Gates,” went on the colonel. “It was for that purpose that they broke into your house tonight, and I want you to understand definitely that I heartily back them up, and so will the world in general when it knows the story.” “But see here, Morrell, you are surely not going to let this thing get out?” begged Melvin Gates. “I have shielded this boy of mine from his folly and weakness for years, and it will be perfectly terrible if it gets out now. Think of our good name in this town, man!” “How many times have you and your son thought of George Long, carrying the stigma of a thief all of these years?” blazed the colonel, seeming to swell up in his honest wrath. “Have you ever given him or his name any consideration? If it was simply a case of covering up a weak moral escapade of your boy which had not hurt anyone but himself I would gladly help you by saying nothing. But you have had no thought for the burden that George Long has been compelled to carry with him. Under the circumstances I have no sympathy for you, Mr. Gates, and I warn you that Long shall be cleared publicly as soon as possible.” “Colonel Morrell,” said Melvin Gates, putting on an air of cunning that turned the boys against him even more, “I have a little money in this world. Now, if we can come to some sort of an agreement on this thing, I’ll make it well worth—” But the colonel became red in the face with suppressed anger. He pointed toward the door. “Get out of my school, both of you!” he quivered. “I won’t have my clean young boys insulted by your presence here any longer. If you think you can buy my tongue with your money you are badly mistaken, Melvin Gates. Please take your son and leave the school at once, sir.” Realizing that any more talk would be a pure waste of time the father and son withdrew, gloom written on their faces. When they had gone the colonel turned to his grave-faced cadets. “Boys, your work is over, and you may report to your quarters. If any discipline officer says anything to you because of absence from your rooms tonight, refer him to me. I commend you on your interest and courage in this matter, and Mr. Long shall know the full particulars. The cadet corps will be proud of you. Goodnight, boys.” Silently the cadets saluted, returned the colonel’s goodnight and went to their room. |
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