CHAPTER III.

SCOTTY'S PLAN AND HOW IT ENDED.

"I say, Simp," continued Scotty, in the same cautious whisper, "don't you hear me? Come up here. We must get Gus out of this scrape, if there is any way to do it."

Simpson thought no more about the boat-race. Trembling for fear of the exposure that was coming, and the investigation that would be sure to follow close upon the heels of it, in which his name would bear a prominent part, he darted into the building and hurried up the stairs to his dormitory. At the door he met Scotty, whose usually stolid face was all aglow with excitement and triumph. A brilliant thought had just occurred to him.

"Simp," he hurriedly exclaimed, "the only way to get Gus out of this trouble is to destroy the evidence against him."

"What evidence is there?" asked Simpson.

"Why the oar itself—the one Mr. Layton cut for him. You see," added Scotty, so eager to get through with what he had to say that he could scarcely speak plainly, "about half an hour ago, as I was going through the hall, who should come in but Bob Nellis and three or four of his particular friends. Bob carried an oar in his hand, and I saw that it was one of the new ones he had just received, and that the leather had been removed. If I needed any other evidence to convince me that he knew just what had been going on I should have had it in the look his face wore and the words he uttered. I heard him say, as he went up the stairs, 'There's not another boy in school who would have put up with that Gus Layton's meanness as long as I have, and I'm not going to do it any longer. If anything about our boat breaks during the race to-day I shall believe it is because he has tampered with it in spite of our watchfulness, and I shall come back here and expose him in the presence of the professors and of the students.'"

"Well?" said Simpson, when Scotty paused to take breath.

"Well, they went up to their dormitory, and presently I heard a door slammed and locked. They have hidden the oar in their closet; and I propose that, if we can get at it, we take it out and hide it somewhere else. Then we'll watch our chance and tell Gus of what we have done, and suggest to him that if there is any row raised all he has to do is to deny the whole business, for there is no evidence against him—eh?"

"But Gus can't keep a secret, you know," said Simpson, unconsciously making use of almost the very words that one of Johnny's friends had addressed to himself, "and perhaps he has told some of the fellows that his father cut the oar."

"I know he has. He has told you and me and all the rest of his friends; but we will not blow on him."

"I—ah—that is—oh, no, of course not," stammered Simpson, his heart fairly coming up into his mouth when he reflected that he had already committed the secret to half a score of boys who would not countenance any such trickery as this which Gus and his father had been guilty of.

"See here, Simp," said Scotty, looking suspiciously at his friend, "that doesn't come from the heart. Are you White?"

"Not much. I am so Blue it will rub off."

"Then you had better do something to prove it. You must help me get that oar. I have tried all my keys, but none of them will fit the lock. Here's something, however, that will open the way for us," said Scotty, producing from under his jacket a large chisel which he had abstracted from the carpenter's chest. "If you are Blue clear through, as you say you are, take this and burst open the door."

Simpson, eager to prove himself true to his colors, replied by seizing the chisel and running out into the hall, Scotty following close at his heels. A few rapid steps carried them up the stairs to Bob's dormitory, and a few more to the closet in which the telltale oar was hidden. Here Simpson's courage began to fail him, and he felt the strongest desire to back out.

"What will the professors say, I wonder?" said he, making a feeble attempt to force an entrance into the closet.

"We don't care what they say. They'll never find out who did it, for I ain't a-going to tell, I bet you. You will be more likely to tell yourself."

"You don't give me credit for much sense, do you?" said Simpson.

"Well, you have done such things before now, haven't you? That is no way to get in there. Cut the casing around the bolt."

The casing, which was a thin pine board, could not long resist their efforts. A few blows with the chisel brought off a piece of it, and then the lock was no longer an obstacle to them. As the door flew open Scotty seized the oar and hurried away with it, while Simpson, anxious to conceal his work as long as possible, lingered to shut the closet and press the piece of casing he had cut off back into its place. As all the students, and every one else belonging to the academy, were out watching the race, the young scapegraces had the building to themselves and were in no danger of being discovered. They ran quickly down the back stairs and into the carpenter's shop, where the oar was speedily hidden away under a pile of boards.

"It will stay there until doomsday," said Scotty, "for these boards are seldom disturbed."

"Yes," said Simpson, "but I can propose something better for it. Some night, as soon as it becomes dark, I'll take it out and sink it in the bay. Then I would like to see anybody find it."

"That's sensible, although these boards have never been disturbed since I have been to this school. Now, the next thing is to run down to the beach and whisper a word of warning in Gus Layton's ear. Are you up to it?"

"Yes, sir; of course I am."

Scotty and his friend worked to such good advantage that they had plenty of time to do all this, which we have been so long in describing, and to run out on the bank in season to witness the conclusion of the race. They left the shop by different doors, and when they came within sight of the bay saw that the Zephyr had already turned the stakeboat and was well on her way home, while the Mist was so far behind that it was quite impossible for her to make up her lost ground. Bob and his men were still pulling with all the power of which they were capable, saying by their actions as plainly as they could have said it in words that in defeating those who would have beaten them by fraud they were taking all the revenge they desired. Presently Simpson found himself standing near a group of students whom he knew to be Blues, but who, he was surprised to see, had discarded their favorite colors. The subject of Gus Layton's underhanded dealings was being discussed by them in an animated manner. Indeed it had somehow got abroad among the students, and was the only topic of conversation.

"I declare it is a downright shame!" exclaimed Claxton, one of the group, "and it is a great pity it was not known before the race began. If I were Nellis I would make the school too hot for Gus Layton. He's got proof enough against him."

"Ah! but has he, though?" cried Simpson. "Where is it?"

"The oar, my dear fellow—the oar that was cut by Gus Layton's orders. Have you seen anything of it?"

"But perhaps Bob doesn't know where it is."

"Why, he took it into the academy and locked it up."

"I don't suppose it could have been spirited out of that lock-up and hidden somewhere else, could it?" said Simpson, with a look that spoke volumes. "Always be sure of your evidence before you hang a man."

The students were amazed. They looked at each other and at Simpson for a few seconds without speaking, and then the one who had thus far acted as spokesman said, coaxingly:

"Now, Simp, tell us all about it; there's a good fellow. Somehow you have a way of finding out everything that goes on within a mile of the academy. What has become of the oar? Where is it hidden?"

"It is in the carpenter's loft, concealed under a pile of boards," answered Simpson, speaking before he thought. "I declare," he added, mentally, and growing frightened at what he had done, "I have told it, just as Scotty said I would. I say, fellows," he continued, trying to recover himself, "you don't suppose I am green enough to tell every thing I know, do you?"

The cheers, long and loud, which arose at this moment, as the Zephyr flew by the tug on which the judges were standing, put a stop to the effort Simpson was about to make to repair the damage he believed he had done. He was borne with the crowd toward the beach, and joined with it in so heartily applauding the victors that his friend Scotty, had he been there, might have thought he had good reason for believing that he was not as Blue as he professed. Slowly the defeated crew pulled down the home-stretch, and the feeble attempt to cheer them as they passed the judges' stand did not serve as a balm to their wounded feelings. Gus was so filled with rage and jealousy that he could scarcely see what was going on around him. He sent his shell into the boat-house so swiftly that, in spite of the efforts of the coxswain and the rest of the crew, she received injuries which placed her far out of the lists forever, so far as racing was concerned. Hastily dressing himself, he left the boat-house without saying a word to any of his companions. He knew the cause of his defeat. Bob had been warned by somebody, and instead of using the new oars his uncle had sent him he had rowed the race with others which had, on more than one occasion, proved perfectly trustworthy. But who was the traitor? Gus had asked himself this question more than a score of times during the race, and each time, as if in response to the inquiry, the image of a red-headed, cringing youth, with round shoulders and stooping gait, had risen before his mental vision. Gus hurried off to find the original of the image, and was not long about it, for the youth in question was impatient to find him. Gus met him hurrying down the bank toward the boat-house, full of news, which he was eager to communicate.

"Simp," said he, taking the red-headed youth by the lapel of his coat, "a word in your private ear."

He looked all around to make sure that there was no one within hearing, and then fastened his eyes sternly upon the face of the boy before him.

"Simp," said Gus, "did you ever read the fable of a man who found a torpid adder, or some other kind of a serpent, and took it home with him and warmed it, and after he had restored it to life the serpent turned on him and bit him?"

"Oh, now, that doesn't apply to me," said Simpson, fairly shaking in his boots.

"I have been good to you, haven't I?"

"Yes, you have."

"I took you in hand and made friends for you when none of the other fellows would have anything to do with you, because of that tongue of yours—didn't I?"

"Yes, you did."

"Simp, there's a traitor about here somewhere, and I am looking for him. If I can find him I'll—I'll—"

"Well, you can just look farther," whined Simpson, growing more and more alarmed, for he had never seen Gus so utterly overcome with rage as he was at that moment. "You don't see any traitor in me, I can tell you."

"I took you into my confidence and told you that Bob's oar would not hang together while he was pulling two hundred yards, didn't I? Now, did you ever repeat that to anybody?"

"I never did," declared Simpson, as if he were perfectly horrified at the thought. "As sure as I live and breathe, I never whispered it to a living soul!"

"Think again; it got out somehow."

"I don't care if it did; I didn't let it out, as sure as you're a foot high. If the fellows say anything to you about it, deny it and stick to it. Say that you are above all such meanness."

"What good will that do? Bob has got the oar."

"No, he hasn't. I saw him take it up to his dormitory and lock it up, and I went and got Scotty, and he and I stole it out and hid it where no one will ever think of looking for it. I had to cut the door open to get it, too. I wouldn't have run so much risk if I had been a traitor to you, would I? I say again, if they accuse you of trying to win by fraud, deny it up hill and down. They can't bring any evidence against you."

Gus let go Simpson's collar, and stepping back a pace or two looked at him without speaking.