The High School Left End - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"I hope those boys have brains enough not to go right past the story," mused Bradley, gazing after the buggy before he went back to his desk. "But I guess Prescott always has his head squarely on his shoulders. He does, in school athletics, anyway. Len Spencer is the man for this job, so of course Len had to be laid up with a cold and fever that would make it murder to send him out tonight."
Horse and buggy were soon at the door. d.i.c.k sprang in, picking up the reins. Dave leaped in at the other side. The horse started away at a steady trot.
"I hope those boys have brains enough not to go right past the story," mused Bradley, gazing after the buggy before he went back to his desk. "But I guess Prescott always has his head squarely on his shoulders. He does, in school athletics, anyway. Len Spencer is the man for this job, so of course Len had to be laid up with a cold and fever that would make it murder to send him out to-night."
"d.i.c.k," muttered Dave excitedly, "you've simply got to make good.
This isn't simply a little paragraph to be scribbled. It's a mystery and is going to be the sensation of the day. This is the kind of story that full-fledged reporters on the great dailies have to handle."
"Yes," laughed d.i.c.k, "and those reporters never get flurried.
I'm not going to allow myself any excitement, either."
"No, but you want to get the story---all of it."
"Of course I do," Prescott agreed quietly.
"If you do this in bang-up shape," Dave went on enthusiastically, "it's likely to be the making of you!"
"How?" queried d.i.c.k, turning around to his chum.
"Why, success on a big story would fairly launch you in journalism.
It would provide your career as soon as you're through High School."
"I don't want a career at the end of the High School course,"
d.i.c.k returned. "I'm going further, and try to fare better in life."
"Wouldn't you like to be a newspaper man for good?" demanded Dave.
"Not on a small-fry paper, anyway" replied Prescott. "Why, Bradley is news editor, and has been in the business for years. He gets about thirty dollars a week. I don't believe Pollock, who has charge of the paper, gets more than forty-five. That isn't return enough for a man who is putting in his whole life at the business."
"Thirty dollars has the sound of pretty large money," mused Dave.
"As for forty-five, if that's what Mr. Pollock gets, look at the comfort he lives in at his club; and he's a real estate owner, too."
"Yes," d.i.c.k admitted. "But that's because Pollock follows two callings. He's an editor and a dealer in real estate. As for me, I'd rather put all my energies into one line of work."
"Then you believe you're going to earn more money than Pollock does?" questioned Dave, rather wonderingly.
"If I pick out a career for income," d.i.c.k responded, "I do intend to go in for larger returns. But I may go into another calling where the pay doesn't so much matter."
"Such as what?"
"Dave, old fellow, can you keep a secret?"
"Bos.h.!.+ You know I can."
"A big secret?"
"Stop that!"
"Well, I'll tell you, Dave. By and by there are going to be, in this state, two appointments to cadets.h.i.+ps at West Point.
Our Congressman will have one appointment. Senator Alden will have the other. Now, in this state, appointments to West Point are almost always thrown open to compet.i.tive examination. All the fellows who want to go to West Point get together, at the call, and are examined. The fellow who comes off best is pa.s.sed on to West Point to try his luck."
"And you think you can prove that you're the brightest fellow in the district?" laughed Dave good-humoredly.
"There are to be two chances, and I think I can prove that I'm one of the two brightest to apply. And Dave!"
"Well?"
"Why don't you go in to prove that you're the other brightest fellow. Just think! West Point! And the Army for a life career!"
"I think I'd rather scheme to go to the Naval Academy, and become an officer of the Navy," returned Dave slowly. "The big battles.h.i.+ps appeal to me more than does the saddle of the cavalryman."
"Go to Indianapolis?" muttered d.i.c.k, in near-disgust. "Well, I suppose that will do well enough for a fellow who can't get to West Point."
"Now, see here," protested Dave good-humoredly, though warmly, "you quit talking about Indianapolis. That's a favorite trick with fellows who are cracked on West Point. You know, as well as I do, that the Naval Academy is at Annapolis. There's a vacancy ahead for Annapolis, too."
"Oho! You've been thinking of that?" demanded d.i.c.k, again looking into his chum's eyes.
"Yes."
"Yes; if I can come out best in a compet.i.tive examination of the boys of this district."
"Two secrets, then---yours and mine," grinned Prescott. "However, it'll be easier for you."
"Why?"
"There aren't so many fellows eager to go to the Naval Academy.
It doesn't draw as hard as the Army does."
"The d.i.c.kens it doesn't!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Dave Darrin.
"No; the Navy doesn't catch young enthusiasm the way the Army does. You won't have so many fellows to compete with as I shall,"
said d.i.c.k.
"I'll have twice as many---three times as many," flared Darrin.
"The Naval Academy is the only real and popular school in the United Service."
"Well, we won't quarrel," laughed young Prescott. "When the time comes we'll probably find smarter young fellows ahead of us, headed for both academies."
"If you do fail on West Point-----?" quizzed Dave.
"_If_ I do," declared d.i.c.k, with a very wistful emphasis on that "if," "then, after getting through High School I'll probably try to put in a year or two of hard work on 'The Blade,' to help my parents put me through college. They're anxious to make me a college man, and they'd work and save hard for it, but I wouldn't be much good if I didn't try to earn a lot of the expense money.
One thing I'm resolved upon---I'm not going to go through life as a half-educated man. It is becoming more true, every year, that there's little show for the man with only the half-formed mind."
Then the two turned back to the subject that had brought them out on this September night---the disappearance of Banker Theodore Dodge.
"In a minute or two we'll be in sight of the river bend," announced Darrin.
"There it is, now," nodded d.i.c.k, slowing down the horse and gazing over yonder. "Some one is there, and looking hard for something."