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Rover Boys in Camp

<h2 id="id01878" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XXV</h2> <h5 id="id01879">WINNING THE CONTESTS</h5> Powell was again the first to throw the hammer and this time it went two feet beyond his first mark. "Good for you, Songbird!" said Tom. "I wish you had made it a yard." Jackson came up with a scowling face. He did his best, but this time fell behind Powell by four inches. "You ought to have stuck to the other hammer, Jackson," laughed the youth who composed songs. "Don't you throw that up to me!" whispered Jackson fiercely. "If you do I'll hammer you for it." "Is that meant for a pun, Jackson?" "No, it ain't. I won't stand being slurred. I'll pound you good." "With the hammer?" "No, with my fists." "Really? Well, you'll have to spell able first." Tom came next, as before, and now the hammer flew out four feet and nine inches beyond his first mark. "That shows what the other hammer can do," said Major Larry. Larson was as much out of sorts as Jackson, but nevertheless he resolved to do his best to win the contest. Up went the hammer with a mighty swing and circled through the air. But the throw was behind that of Tom by fourteen inches. "Hurrah! Tom Rover wins!" was the cry, and many rushed forward to congratulate him, while Larson and Jackson retired as quickly as they could and in great disgust. The next contest was a dash of two hundred yards and was won by a boy named Bird. "He's a bird!" sang out Tom loudly, and at this the crowd laughed heartily. Then came a race of a quarter of a mile for the little cadets and this was won by Harry Moss, with Joe Davis a close second. Lew Flapp had backed up Ben Hurdy, but cigarettes had done their work on Hurdy and his wind gave out long before the race came to a finish. "Good for you, Harry," said Dick, slapping the little cadet on the back. "That was a fine run you made. And your run was almost as good, Joe," he added, to Davis. "I don't care if I did lose," panted Davis. "Both of us beat Ben Hurdy hollow, and that's all I wanted to do." "Oh, there's no moss growing on Moss," cried Tom, and this brought out another laugh. The next contest to come off was the high jump, for which Dick had entered, along with Pender, Rockley, and four others, including Hans Mueller. What had possessed the German boy to enter was beyond finding out, for he could scarcely jump at all. Yet many, for the fun of it, told him they thought he would surely win. "Oh, you'll outjump everybody," said Sam. "None of 'em will come anywhere near you." "Dot's it! Dot's it!" cried Hans excitedly. "I vos chump so high like nefer vos, ain't it?" A lad named Lemon was the first to go over the bar, at a height of four feet and two inches. Another cadet followed, going him two inches better. "Now, Hans, see what you can do," said Major Larry. "Vos it mine turn to chump?" "Yes. Are you ready?" "Sure I vos." "How high up shall they place the stick?" "Apout like dot," and Hans pointed to the top of his head. "All right, fellows, up she goes!" sang out Tom, and the stick went up. Hans spat on his hands as if going to lift something. Then he squared his shoulders and drew far back from the jumping place. "Gif me lots of room, eferypotty!" he sang out. "All the room you want, Dutchy!" cried one of the cadets. Away Hans started for the stick, running as swiftly as his short legs would carry him. When about ten feet away he made a wild leap, stuck up both legs in the air, and came down flat on his back with a loud whack. "Hurrah, Hans wins!" cried Tom. "Best fall I've seen in a year!" "Wh—who—vat—" gasped Hans, trying to recover his wind. "Who knocked me der pack ofer annahow?" "Nobody hit you, Hans." "Who put geese grease der groundt on ver I run, hey?" "Nobody." "Well, did I knock der stick town?" "No, you didn't come anywhere near the stick." "Do I got some more trials?" "I think, Mueller, that you had better retire," said Captain Putnam with a smile. "High jumping does not seem to agree with you." "Maype dot's so, captain. Veil, I ton't care annahow. I vill drow der hammer ven ve haf some more of dem kondests," and then Hans dropped to the rear. Rockley was the next to jump, and his record was an inch better than that already made. "That's all right," said Lew Flapp. Two other pupils now took their turns in jumping and Rockley's record was speedily eclipsed. Then Dick came along and sent the record still higher. "That's the talk, Dick," said Tom enthusiastically. "I don't think Pender can do as well." "Can't I," sneered Pender. "I'll show you." On he came, measuring his distance with care, and went over the stick at the same height Dick had taken. "Another tie!" was the cry. The last boy to jump did not do as well as Rockley, so the contest was voted a tie between Dick and Gus Pender. "Now, Dick, you must win," said Sam. "You think a good lot of his ability," sneered Lew Flapp, who stood close by, and started to walk off. He had scarcely taken a step when Dick gave him a quick shove that sent the tall boy flat on his face. "I'll teach you to step on my foot, Lew Flapp!" he cried hotly. "What's the trouble?" demanded several, while Mr. Strong came forward to investigate. "Lew Flapp stepped on my right foot, and he did it just as hard as he could," said Dick. "I—I didn't," growled Flapp. "I say you did—and what is more, I think you did it on purpose." "He did it to lame you, so you couldn't jump against Pender," came from Tom. "Flapp, did you step on Rover's foot on purpose?" demanded George Strong. "No, sir—didn't step on it at all." "It is very strange. Rover says you did." "He is mistaken." "I am not mistaken. That is why I shoved him away, Mr. Strong." "Is your foot hurt?" "I don't think it is. But it didn't do it any good to have it stepped on." "Probably not. Do you still wish to jump?" "Yes, sir. If I don't, some of the crowd will say I am afraid," said Dick. "In the future, Flapp, be more careful," said George Strong significantly. "By Jinks! but the Flapp crowd are dandies!" whispered Tom. "First Jackson tried to change the hammers and now Flapp himself tries to disable you. We must be on our guard after this." "That's true," replied his elder brother, and Sam nodded. Because of Dick's hurt foot it was decided that Gus Pender should jump first. Pender did his best, clearing the stick by two inches better than before. "Put it up an inch higher," cried Dick, and made the jump, despite a pain in the instep that was by no means pleasant. Then Pender tried again, but failed, and Dick was declared the winner. "This is the day for the Rovers!" cried one cadet, and a cheer for Tom and Dick followed, while the Staton girls waved their handkerchiefs wildly. After this came several other contests, in each of which the crowd pitted against the Flapp faction won. This made Lew Flapp, Rockley, Pender, Jackson and a number of others feel very sore. "We must win something," cried Pender fiercely. "If we don't we'll be the laughing stock of the whole academy." At last came the half mile race for which Sam had entered. Now, though Lew Flapp was much larger than most of the others, he was in the same class as Sam, and he had also entered this race, which boasted of ten contestants, including William Philander Tubbs. "You have got to win this, Lew," said Rockley. "It ought to be easy for you, with such long legs." "I mean to win and leave that Rover boy so far behind he'll feel sick," answered Flapp. Sam had but little to say. But he knew that both Tom and Dick expected him to win, and he resolved to "do or die" as the saying goes. "Even if I lose they shan't say I didn't try," the youngest Rover told himself. Out on the field William Philander Tubbs was strutting around boastfully. "I can't help but win, don't you know," he drawled. "Running is exactly in my line." "Oh, what a whopper!" was Fred Garrison's comment. "Tubbs is about as lazy as they make 'em." Soon all of the contestants were ready, and George Strong explained the conditions of the race. "You are to run along the shore to the big rock where Lieutenant Merrick is stationed," he said. "You are to round the rock by running to the right, and you must keep to the right of the path on returning, so that you won't run into anybody. The first to reach this mark on the return wins the race. Do you understand?" The runners said that they did. "Very well then. Get ready. Go!" Away piled the boys in a line that did not break for several yards. Then Sam Rover shot ahead, followed by Flapp and two cadets named Pigley and Franell. "There they go!" was the shout. "Leg it, Sam!" yelled Tom. "Leg it, old man!" "Go it, Flapp! Don't let them win this race!" "It's yours if you want it, Franell!" "Remember how you won the race at Ithaca, Pigley!" So the cries went on, while the outsiders cheered for nobody in particular. "Oh, I hope that Rover boy wins," said Alice Staton to her sister. "So do I," answered Helen. "By Jove, but I think I'll rest a bit!" panted William Philander Tubbs, after running a couple of hundred yards, and he sat down on the grass, while the crowd laughed at him. Sam was keeping the lead in good shape, although hard pressed by Flapp, Pigley, and Franell. His wind was good and he was running with a grace which brought forth much favorable comment. "Whether he wins or not, he is the most graceful runner in the school," whispered George Strong to Captain Putnam. "I never saw his equal." "You are right, Strong," answered the captain. "I'll tell you what," he added. "They are a great trio, those Rover boys. One cannot help but love them, in spite of their tricks and occasional wrong-doings." "I agree, Captain Putnam. And I must say I do not find their wrong-doings so very great either," concluded George Strong. The rock that was the turning point in the race was now almost gained. Sam still led, but Flapp was right at one shoulder, with Pigley at the other. Franell, at a look from Flapp, had dropped behind. On the rock stood the lieutenant George Strong had mentioned. He was friendly to Lew Flapp and as Sam swept around the rock, he leaned forward, making the youngest Rover run about a yard further than was necessary. Then he allowed Flapp to cut the rock closely. But Sam was on his mettle and now bounded ahead faster than ever, leaving Flapp and Pigley several yards in the rear. "Confound him," thought Lew Flapp. "He'll win sure, unless Franell does as he agreed—good!" Flapp almost shouted the word, as he saw Sam run into Franell with a crash and go down. The other boy had crossed the running path and gotten directly into Sam's way. "I see you are out of it!" cried Flapp gleefully, as he shot by the prostrate figure. "It was a trick!" muttered Sam to himself, and tried to rise to his feet. But the wind was knocked completely out of him and before he could recover the race was over, and Lew Flapp had come in ahead. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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