CHAPTER XVII
THE TRAMP AGAIN
"He's in a dead faint--give him air," ordered Dean Ritchie.
"Get a dipper of water," said Frank quickly, letting Bob slip gently to thegrass.
There was a pump just beyond the enclosure. Ned ran to it, and soon Frankwas sponging Bob's face with cool water.
"Who did it--and why?" spoke Bob suddenly and opening his eyes and sittingup.
He drew up one foot with a wry face. As he did so Dean Ritchie gave a startand a stare.
"Why," he cried, "your stocking is dripping with blood."
"The sole of my foot feels like a raw beef-steak," said Bob.
One of the boys had gone after the shoes that Bob had thrown off a distancefrom the course.
"Ritchie," he said gravely, "feel there."
His leader took the shoe, ran his hand into it, and looked into it.
"Oh, shame! shame!" he exclaimed with a wrathy face. "Whoever did thisdeserves to be tarred and feathered."
"What is it?" inquired Frank.
"An old trick among touts and welchers. Just feel, Jordan--some one gotinto the gym last night and doctored these shoes."
"Doctored the shoes?" repeated Frank vaguely.
"Yes, they set in a light cushion sole, with a half dozen blade-pointedbrads under it that would break through after a little use. It's a wonderthat Upton's foot isn't ripped to pieces."
"It feels pretty near as if it was," said Bob, wincing. "Frank, I guess I'mcrippled for a few days. You'll have to help me get to our room."
There were dark frowns of indignation and suspicion among the group. TheBanbury crowd were making off with glum faces and uneasy haste.
"Stop!" sharply shouted Ritchie after them. "I accuse nobody, but I want tosay right here and now, and I want everybody to hear me, that I'm going toferret out the low sneak who put those brads in Bob Upton's shoes. When Ido, he leaves this school or I do, and one of us will have reason toremember the drubbing of his life."
"They're a fine set, aren't they?" spoke Purtelle. "Fellows, I think thiscircumstance should be reported to the faculty."
"No," dissented Bob Upton decidedly. "The rascals will reach the end oftheir tether some time, and we can't prove who worked this mean trick."
They got Bob to his room. Ned did not go there with the crowd, but heappeared a little later with a box of salve and some strips of cloth. Hefixed up Bob's injured foot so skilfully that Ritchie complimented him asan expert surgeon.
Frank stayed with his friend, reading to him for a time. All the others hadgone away. Finally Bob fell asleep, and Frank strolled out on the grounds.As he again entered the building bound for his room, he ran directlyagainst Ned as he turned down a corridor near the reception-room.
"Why, Ned," he exclaimed, "what are you doing here?"
Ned Foreman was almost crouching in a dark corner. He was trembling, andhis lips were white, and there was a marked terror in his eyes. Frank wasprofoundly startled, almost shocked at the strange appearance of hisfriend.
"That man is in there!" gasped Ned.
"In where?"
"The reception-room."
"What man do you mean?"
"Tim Brady."
"Oh!" uttered Frank, and a whole lot of light seemed to flood his mind inan instant. "How do you know that?"
"President Elliott send word to me that a visitor wished to see me in thereception-room. I just came down and looked in. That terrible man who callsme his relative is in there talking to the president."
"What is he after?" asked Frank.
"Can't you see?" spoke Ned in a tone of great agitation and excitement. "Hehas followed me clear here. He is going to drive me away from here, just ashe has driven me away from other places. I can't meet him--the cold chillsrun all over me whenever my eyes light on him," and Ned shuddered.
"See here, Ned Foreman," said Frank, "you go right into that room. Bracestraight up to that miserable wretch, and defy him. Don't be a bit scaredat anything he may say to you. I'll do the rest."
"How--how can you?" stammered the terrified boy.
"Leave that to me. I know a lot I'll tell you afterward. Go ahead, now, anddon't you show one particle of fear. Leave the door ajar a little, just asit is. I'm no eavesdropper, but on the present occasion I'm mightilyinterested in seeing and hearing all that's going on."
There was something unaccountable about Ned Foreman's dread of hisprofessed relative. He passed into the reception-room, but he was tremblingall over and his face was pale and frightened.
President Elliott sat near a table, and the tramp whom Frank knew as TimBrady was standing up in front of him.
He did not look much like the fellow Frank had rescued Ned from at Tipton.
In his hand he carried a high silk hat. He was clean shaven, and his hairwas combed and plastered down over his bullet head. His clerical-lookingfrock coat was buttoned up to the chin. His face was drawn in ahypocritical expression of great concern.
"Ah, my boy! my boy!" he exclaimed, jumping about and rushing at Ned,extending both hands as if about to greet some beloved friend.
Ned Foreman shrank from his obnoxious relative in horror.