CHAPTER II
THE DRIFTING BOAT
"What makes you so enthusiastic about Elmwood Hall, Tom?" asked Mr.Fairfield, when his son had somewhat calmed down. "I didn't know youknew much about it."
"I don't except what I've heard and read, but it just happens that Imet a fellow from there to-day." And Tom told of his talk with BruceBennington, showing his parents the letter.
"Hum, that is rather odd," spoke Mr. Fairfield. "I wonder what histrouble could have been? Bennington--Bennington. I've heard that namebefore. Oh, I know; Mr. Bennington is a millionaire manufacturer. Thatmust be his son, though if he's in trouble I should think Mr. Benningtonwould help him out."
"Maybe it isn't money," spoke Tom. "But, anyhow, I'm glad I'm going toElmwood, and maybe I'll get chummy with Bruce Bennington, though there'snot much chance, for he's a Senior, and I'll be a Freshman."
"I hope, if you can, that you'll help him," said Mrs. Fairfield. "Andoh, Tom, do you think they'll haze you?"
"If they do, I guess I can stand it," replied her son. "Everyone hasto be hazed. I won't mind. But now tell me something about going toAustralia."
"It's going to be quite a trip," said Mr. Fairfield, "and one I wish Icould get out of, but I can't. We'll start as soon as we can, Tom. We'reto go to San Francisco by train, and take a steamer there. I'll write atonce, and make arrangements for you to go to Elmwood Hall. Your motherwill see to getting what clothes you need. Here is a catalog of theschool."
Tom eagerly looked the pamphlet over, while his father went to hislibrary to write some letters and Mrs. Fairfield, not without somemisgivings as to what might happen to Tom at boarding school, or toherself and her husband on their long trip, went to look over her son'swardrobe.
As I have explained, Mr. Fairfield was quite well off, and had theprospect of more wealth. He did not care to lose his Australianinheritance, and, though the journey meant some trouble for him, in thatit would complicate his business affairs at home, he decided to make it.He had long promised his wife a trip abroad and now was the chance forit, as they intended to come home by way of Europe.
Tom Fairfield was a tall, well built youth, fond of all out-doorssports, and about as lively a lad as you would care to meet.
He had lived in Briartown all his life, though he had traveledextensively with his father and mother, and knew considerable of theworld. He was an only son, a sister having died when a little girl.
Tom had many friends in the village, where his father's silk factorywas located, and our hero took part in the scenes and activities ofthe place. He had attended the Academy there, and was one of the bestfootball and baseball players. He always had a liking for the water,and since getting his motorboat, had been on Pine river more often thanever. He had tried to get up a crew at the Academy, but could not seemto interest enough boys, or get them to subscribe the necessary funds.
Tom had one or two enemies, too, chiefly because he would not let thembully him, but they did not worry him, for any lad of spirit is aslikely to have enemies as friends, and Tom had plenty of the latter.
"Jove! To think that I'm really going to Elmwood Hall!" Tom whisperedto himself, as he leafed over the catalog, and looked at the picturesof the various buildings. "That'll be great! I wish I knew some of thefellows who were going there, but I guess I can soon get acquainted. Iwonder if I can pass the entrance examinations?"
He looked at the requirements for the Freshman class, and noted thatthere was no study but what he had had at the Academy.
"I guess I can do it," he said.
There were soon busy days in the Fairfield household.
Besides making arrangements for the voyage, and getting their businessaffairs in shape to leave, Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield had to arrange forTom's stay at Elmwood. This was done by correspondence and, about a weekafter Tom had heard the news, he went to the school to take the entranceexaminations. He met a few lads in like case, all rather miserable, andTom felt a feeling of pride as he walked about the campus, and thoughtthat soon he would be a student there.
"That is, if I pass," he mused. "That Latin exam. was a bit stiff, andso were the maths. Maybe the others will be easier. I hope so, anyhow."
Tom's hopes were realized, for on the second day--the test extendingover that time--he had no difficulty in answering the entrancequestions. Then he went back home, to receive, a few days later, wordthat he had passed, and would be admitted to the Freshman class.
"Wow!" he cried, as he read the formal announcement. "That's great! I'mgoing to tell the boys!"
He rushed off to find Dick and Will, his most particular chums. But, onvisiting their houses, he was informed that they had gone fishing on theriver.
"I'll find 'em," he said. "I know the fishing hole. I'll go down in mymotorboat."
He hurried back to the dock, and, as he reached a point where he couldlook down to it, he uttered an exclamation of dismay.
"My motorboat!" he cried. "It's gone! Some one has it! If it's stolen--"
He broke into a run, and as he had a good view of the river he saw hisboat out in the middle of the stream.
"Well, of all the nerve!" he cried. "Dent Wilcox has taken my boatwithout asking me. I'll fix him!"
Then he noticed that the boat was not running under her own power, butwas drifting down stream.
"Hi there, Dent! What's the matter with you?" Tom cried. "What did youtake my boat for? Why don't you start up and run her back here?"
The lazy lad addressed looked up from what was evidently a contemplationof the stalled engine.
"Start her going!" cried Tom. "Start the engine, or you'll be on therocks!"
"I can't," yelled back Dent. "She's stopped."
"Crank her," ordered Tom. "Turn the flywheel over!"
Dent did so, but in such a lazy and slow fashion that even from shoreTom could see that the lad was not exerting himself enough. The wheelneeded a vigorous turn.
"Oh, put some muscle into it!" cried Tom. "You'll never get her goingthat way!"
"I've tried three or four times, and she won't go," retorted Dent,leaning back against the gunwale, and looking at the engine, as though amere glance would set it going.
"Keep on trying!" cried Tom. "Don't you see where you're going? You'llbe on the rocks in five minutes more! Can't you even steer? Next timeyou take my boat I'll wallop you good!"
"I didn't think you'd care," came the answer over the stretch of water.
"Well, I do. Now you crank up!"
Dent Wilcox tried again, but his inherent laziness was against him,and nothing resulted. The boat was in the grip of the current, and wasrapidly drifting toward the dangerous rocks.
"By Jove! He'll wreck my boat!" thought Tom. "Say!" he cried desperately,"can't you get that engine going somehow, and avoid the rocks?"
"I guess there's no gasolene," retorted Dent.
"Yes, there is, the tank's full."
"Then the batteries have given out."
"Can't be. They're new. Oh, you big chump, to take out my boat when youdon't know how to run her!" and Tom looked at his drifting craft indespair.
"Can't you come out and get me?" suggested Dent, as he looked helplesslyat the engine.
"Well, of all the nerve!" cried Tom. "But I'll have to, I guess, if Iwant to save my boat!"
He hurriedly cast off his rowing craft, jumped in, and was soon pullingout toward the drifting motorboat.