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The High School Captain of the Team, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock

Chapter 19. Tom Reade Bosses The Job

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_ CHAPTER XIX. Tom Reade Bosses the Job

"Ugh!" shivered Dave, as the chums met on the platform. "It's cold out here!"

"Come inside, then, and get warm. But you're a great athlete, to mind an ordinary December morning," laughed Dick Prescott.

Together they stepped into the waiting room.

"What time does our train go?" asked Dave, though he had known the time of this train for the last week.

"Seven-forty," replied Dick.

"And it's seven-twenty, now. Whew, what a await!"

"I could have stayed home a little longer," nodded Dick. "Only I told father and mother that I'd feel more like being started if I got down here this far on the way."

"Sure thing," nodded Dave sympathetically. "My Dad had to hold on to me to stop my leaving the house an hour earlier than I did."

Both boys laughed, though not very heartily. Each was under a terrific strain---just from wondering!

"If I get through, and win out to-day," muttered Dick, "I know I shan't feel half as anxious when it comes time to take the graduating exams."

"No," agreed Dave. "Then you'll know you have a chance; but to-day you can't be sure of that much."

Five minutes before train time the chums were astonished at seeing another of the chums walk into the station. It was Tom Reade, looking as jovial and contented as a youngster could possibly look.

"Hullo, Tom!" came from Dick.

"Howdy, Tom, old man!" was Dave's greeting.

"Hullo, fellows!" from Reade.

"Where are you bound?" inquired Dick.

"Wilburville?"

"_What_?"

"Fact!" Reade assured them.

"Going to the exams.?" Dave demanded quickly.

"Yep."

"Why, you never said a word about thinking of West Point," exploded Prescott.

"You were making fun of Annapolis only the other day!" asserted Dave, just as though making fun of Annapolis were one of the capital crimes.

"Hang West Point!" exploded Tom Reade.

"Oh! Then it's Annapolis you're after," grunted Darrin.

"Sink Annapolis!" exclaimed Reade.

"Then what on earth are you after?" demanded Dick.

"Have you any fool idea in your head, Tom, that you can take an exam and stand a chance of getting Congressman Spokes's job away from him?" Dave asked.

Tom threw himself into one of the seats, crossed his feet, thrust his hands down in his ulster pockets, and surveyed the pair before he answered:

"I'll tell you what ails you two. You have a notion that the sun rises at West Point and sets at Annapolis. Now, I know a heap better, and I haven't an eye on either place. Can you fellows guess why I've taken the day off from school and why I'm going to Wilburville?"

"We surely can't," declared Dave.

"Well, then, I'll tell you," promised Tom amiably. "I knew you two good old chaps would be going to pieces with blue funk to-day. I knew you'd be chattering inside, and turning all sorts of colors outside. You'd try to cheer each other, but each of you is too badly scared to be of any use to the other. So I've come along to take up your minds, jolly you and stiffen your backbones alternately. That's my whole job for to-day."

Looking in some amazement at Reade, the other two chums realized that good old Tom was telling the truth.

"Of course, I'll admit," continued Reade, "that, if I were going on the grill to-day, I'd be worse than either of you. But I'm not. I wouldn't live in West Point, and I wouldn't be caught dead at Annapolis, so I shan't have any scares or any nervous streak to-day. I'll look after you both, the best I can, and do what little lies in my power to keep your minds off your troubles."

"Well, who'd ever have thought of a thing like that but Tom Reade?" gasped Dick gratefully.

"It's mighty good of you, old chum," declared Darrin fervently.

"Now, then,"'resumed Reade, uncrossing his legs, "as I'm on the job to look after you, allow me to remind you that that is your train whistling at this moment."

Three very jolly boys, therefore, piled out of the station building and boarded the train.

Tom spoke to the conductor a moment before following the others to seats.

"You see," spoke Reade, "I'm even going to the trouble to make sure that this is the right train, and not a belated express."

"I never though of that," muttered Darrin, turning a bit pale.

"Great Scott!" gasped Dick. "I can feel the cold sweat oozing out at the bare thought. Suppose we had been harebrained enough to get on the wrong train, and be carried so far past that we couldn't get back to Wilburville by nine o'clock!"

"Drop all worry. Don't think of anything alarming, or even disconcerting," chuckled Tom. "I've taken charge of the whole job, and I guarantee everything. One of the little things I guarantee is that you'll both win out to-day."

"In algebra," muttered Darrin, "I hope they won't go too deeply into quadratic equations-----"

"Cut it!" ordered Reade severely. "Likewise forget it! Say, I heard a rattling good story last night. It carries a Dutchman, a poodle, a dude and an old maid. Let me see if I can remember just how it runs."

With that Reade got started. He soon had his two friends started as well. They laughed until the brakeman at last thrust his head in and called:

"Next station, Wilburville!"

"Stop and get out, young man!" called Tom. "Do you think we don't know our way?"

Then into another story plunged Tom Reade. He spun it out, purposely, until the train slowed up at Wilburville.

"'Bus right up to the town hall!" cried a driver, sizing the trio up shrewdly.

"Thank you; that's our auto over there," nodded Tom, pointing to a lunch wagon. Reade started the chums at a brisk walk. Of the first native they met they inquired the way.

Tom was still talking at forty horse-power when they came to the town hall.

"That building holds our fate!" muttered Dave, as they drew near.

"Stop that!" ordered Tom. "Anyone would think that Annapolis was all the candy in the land. What are you worrying about, anyway? Haven't I taken all the responsibility for this thing upon myself? Haven't I promised you both that you shall find your little toy appointments in your Christmas stockings? Do you think I'm lying?"

"But the exams!" groaned Dave.

"Well, they're competitive," quoted Tom cheerily.

"That's just what ails 'em!" argued Dave.

"You make me think of my cousin, Jack Reade, of the militia," taunted Tom. "He's a captain. Now, Jack wanted to be appointed assistant inspector general of rifle practice. He was ordered up for his exam. Poor fellow spent three weeks, days and nights, boning for that exam. The family had the doctor in twice, for they were afraid Jack was studying himself crazy. Then the day came for the exam. Jack went into the ordeal shivering. The examiner asked Jack to write down his full name, the date of his birth, and the date of his entry into the militia. Jack answered all three questions straight, and got a hundred per cent. for his marking. Yet you fellows talk about exams as though they were really hard!"

Still laughing the three passed inside.

Dick Prescott had firmly resolved to do no more talking about the ordeal. But Darrin hadn't. So, after the boys had entered the building, and had climbed to the next floor, where the hall was, and had taken a look inside, Dave drew back into the corridor.

"Great guns, did you look inside?" he demanded. "There are a million boys in there already."

"Cheer up," soothed Tom. "Most of 'em want to go to West Point."

Tom fairly forced his chums inside. The boys already there, some three-score, at least, turned to regard the newcomers curiously.

"The rest of you may as well go home," announced Tom laughingly. "My friends have a first mortgage on the jobs you're after."

Presently, more fellows came in. Then some more, and still more.

"Let's go down and stand by the door, where we can get more air," urged Darrin.

"Yes," agreed Tom. "And we'll throw out any of the rest that may have a nerve to try to step in here."

Hardly had they taken their stand by the door when the three chums received a shock.

For the next arrivals were Phin Drayne, and his father, Heathcote Drayne.

Phin was now in attendance at the Wilburville Academy, and his father had come down, the evening before, to urge his son to try for West Point.

Tom looked the newcomer over with especial disfavor. Young Drayne, like many another "peculiar" fellow, was an unusually good student. At any time Drayne would have a very good chance of coming out even with, or just ahead of, either Dick or Dave.

The Draynes did not favor our three chums with any greeting, but walked on down into the hall.

"Excuse me a minute," murmured Tom. "I want to find out how the land lies."

Tom thereupon walked boldly over to the Draynes.

"May I speak with you just a moment, Mr. Drayne?" asked Tom.

"Go ahead," replied Mr. Heathcote Drayne, not over-graciously.

"It is important, sir, that I speak with you aside," Tom went on.

Heathcote Drayne scowled, then stepped to one side, turning and glancing down at Reade.

"Well, young man, what is it?"

"I thought it barely possible," continued Tom coolly, "that I might be able to offer you a hint or two worth while."

"Worth whose while?" demanded Heathcote Drayne, suspiciously.

"Yours. Has your son come here to compete for either the West Point or Annapolis cadetship?"

"What if he has?"

"Then has Phin his certificates of good character with him?" demanded Tom, his blue eyes steely and cold as he looked straight and significantly at the elder Drayne.

"Confound your impudence, Reade! What do you mean?"

"Just this," continued Tom readily. "Only boys of good character are eligible for West Point or Annapolis. Now, the fact is, your son was expelled from Gridley High School for a dishonorable action. Are you content to have your son try for a cadetship, with that record hanging over his head and enveloping his chances?"

"Who'll know anything about that record if you don't blab?" demanded Mr. Drayne.

"Why, your son would have to state where he had attended school, and furnish certificates of good character from his teachers," ran on Reade. "Now, honestly, do you think that Dr. Thornton, of Gridley High School, would furnish a certificate on which Congressman Spokes could appoint your boy to West Point or Annapolis? Because, if you think so," wound up Reade, "go ahead and put Phin in the running, to be sure."

With that Tom marched off back to his chums.

"What have you been up to?" asked Dick curiously.

"I'm manager for you two half-witted fellows, ain't I?" queried Reade.

"What have you been saying to Mr. Drayne?" asked Dave.

"Just watch father and son, and see how they seem to be enjoying their talk," chuckled Tom. "There, what do you see now? I thought it would end like that."

This was the first time it had occurred to the elder Drayne that his son's character would be inquired into. In fact, Mr. Drayne had had half an idea that the United States Military Academy was a place that made a specialty of reforming wild boys and making useful citizens of them. _

Read next: Chapter 20. When The Great News Was Given Out

Read previous: Chapter 18. The Would-Be Candidates

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