Read Ebook: The Mercer Boys' Mystery Case by Wyckoff Capwell

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Ebook has 1220 lines and 52163 words, and 25 pages

"A nearby preparatory school, Roxberry, then put forward its best scholar and the examination was held. It embraced every branch of the studies which every scholar is supposed to have had at this stage of preparatory school life, and to the joy of all Woodcrest students, Arthur Gates won it. The questions had been prepared by professors from Roxberry and instructors from this school and the two young men took the examination in a room entirely by themselves. The other student received a marking of ninety-five but Arthur Gates answered every question one hundred per cent. A truly remarkable thing when you think of it, and Woodcrest was mighty proud of him for it."

"Should think it would be!" murmured Douglas.

"The editor of the paper publicly agreed that he had been wrong in his estimation of military institutions and apologized. Roxberry graciously accepted defeat and we were just ready to award the cup to Arthur Gates when a very unfortunate thing happened. The cup disappeared!

"Just at this point I'll have to go back a little bit and tell you this fact: One of the cadets who was runner-up with Gates was a class captain named George Long. Long was a fine young man, with a splendid career before him, and he tried hard but was defeated by Gates. After his defeat he became entirely different from his usual self, turned quiet and moody and was seen to talk to Gates privately many times, at which times Gates seemed to say no, as though Long was making him some dishonorable proposition. Even when Gates won the scholarship for the school he was not happy and refused to congratulate him at all. We all put it down to jealousy and a bad school spirit, a thing which was hard to believe, for Long was always a gentleman, but that was his attitude. I suppose that he wanted to win that scholarship himself, as it was his last year in Woodcrest, and it was certain that some college, hearing of his success, would have awarded him a scholarship, which is just what they did to Gates, eventually.

"The senior Mr. Gates had turned the cup over to me and had asked me to present it to his son, as that would look better than it would for him to give it, but I wanted one of the student body to present it, as a mark of honor from the cadet corps. But if I did that Long would have to be the one to present it, as he was senior class captain and also captain of the infantry, and I didn't know how he would feel about it. So I asked him and he said that there was nothing wrong between Gates and himself and that he would gladly present the cup for the student body.

"I therefore turned the cup over to Cadet Captain Long on the night before the general assembly and he took it to his room. When the next day came all of the cadets assembled in the auditorium and there were guests of the school and representatives of the press in the room. But Captain Long was missing and I could not understand the circumstances. I began the exercises, hoping that he would come, but he did not and before long I was at the point where Arthur Gates was to have been presented with the cup.

"I immediately sent a cadet in search of Long, and the messenger found him in his room, frantically going through every drawer and corner of the room. The cup had been stolen, he declared, sometime in the morning. I had to go up there myself, to find him half-distracted, turning everything inside out in his quest for the cup. It was not found, and I was forced to go back to the auditorium and explain the theft of the cup. The place was in an uproar and Melvin Gates was furious, but all we could do was to make young Gates stand up and honor him that way. There was simply no cup to be found and that was all there was to it.

"Afterward I had my hands full. The senior Gates wanted to arrest Long, believing him a thief, but although I didn't believe he was I couldn't understand what had happened to that cup. Gates himself, that is, Arthur Gates, had been in Long's room on the night before and had seen the cup on Long's dresser, and it had been there when Long went to bed and when he got up in the morning. It was after chapel that he had first noticed that it was gone, and he had hunted around for it without saying anything to anyone about it. Long had no roommate, so there was no suspicion there. I thought myself that he might have hidden the cup for a joke or even in a mean spirit, but he insisted that he had not done so.

"The newspapers rapped the cadet 'honor' severely and it was no easy task to remain patient under it all. Long did not resign or do anything foolish, he finished out the year, but under a distinct cloud. Arthur Gates took the loss of his cup calmly, continued to be Long's friend, and even made a fine speech about it all in assembly. The elder Gates was finally pacified and things died down, but search as we might, we never did find that cup.

"As I have said, Long finished out the year and graduated, but it was a hard job. You know it is the custom to clap when a senior goes up and receives his diploma, but when the cadet captain of the entire school went up there was only a silence, a brutal, condemning silence. I saw his face redden and harden as I gave him his diploma, and I pressed his hand hard, but he simply dropped mine and went back to his seat with his head held high. That looks as though he was not guilty and I'd like to think so, but the fact remains that everything is dead against Mr. Long. He had never been gracious about Gates' victory over him and never in the least bit generous in any way about it all, and no one could blame the cadets for feeling the way they did. I was severely scored by the papers for not dismissing him from school for neglect of duty if for no other cause, but I felt that would do no good and so I never went to such a limit. I will confess that I hoped and hoped that the cup would turn up some day and we'd find out it was just some prank or mistake, but it never did.

"We have had alumni meetings each year and Long never comes to any of them. I have purposely written to him more than once, although I don't know if that is quite wise, for the old graduates might turn the cold shoulder to him when they met him. But I wanted to see if he would come and face them in spite of it all, but he evidently does not want to do so. Gates doesn't come very often, in fact there are some fellows who have never returned to visit the old school once they left it, but that much is to be expected.

"Well, that's the story of the 1933 class trophy, boys. We have always called it that because both Gates and Long belonged to the senior class of 1933 and that class represented the whole school. It isn't a pretty story and I'm sorry that it ever happened. I guess we can count that trophy out and you may cross it off your list."

The colonel sighed as he concluded and the boys sat for a moment in silence. The honor and courage of his boys was a live issue with the colonel and it hurt him to think that any of them should not be worthy. Even though it had happened a number of years ago it was always a fresh hurt to him, and they suspected that he had always had an affection for Long.

"We're very sorry to hear that, Colonel Morrell," said Hudson, at last. "It certainly is mysterious, but all signals point to this Long. Very well, we'll cross that particular item off our list."

"Yes, the sooner we forget all that, the better," the colonel nodded. He got up briskly. "Suppose we go and take a look at the cups and banners now."

They filed out of the room and went down the hall to a smaller study room, where the school trophies had been placed. The colonel looked them all over with evident enjoyment, recalling incidents and stories about almost every one. He was well pleased with their work and expressed it.

"Now, the next step will be mine," he announced. "I'm going to have the old hall thoroughly cleaned and then some needed work done in it. After that we'll have our first big alumni meeting and you boys will be on duty that night, to share in the fun and listen to the talks. I thank you kindly, boys, for your good work. In the future we'll see to it that the school trophies are properly taken care of and that it will never be necessary for another committee to go around and pick up flags and cups."

"Well, that ends that," remarked Farley, as the cadets prepared to separate. "We'll have to add a few more to the collection this fall and winter."

"Yes," agreed Hudson. "Too bad about that 1933 cup."

"It certainly is," agreed Don, as the others nodded silently. "I'd like to get ahold of that cup and make it talk! No telling what it would say!"

"You are right there," laughed a third class man. "They say that dead men tell no tales, and I guess lost cups don't either!"

That night Don settled himself in his chair to study. Jim was across the room intent on history and Terry was visiting down the hall. The redheaded boy was unusually bright in his studies; he was going through Woodcrest on a scholarship which he had won, and he seemed to get along with very little study. So he was able to do a little visiting, while the others found that they must bury themselves in their books.

Presently a particular notice attracted his attention. It was an item in the school notes department, and read as follows: "John Mulford, our efficient and pleasant janitor for the past six years, left us quite unexpectedly this past week. We were unable to learn just why he left us. For the next few days the students will do well to thank their lucky stars that it is the spring and not the winter of the year."

Don passed the notice off lightly, wondering what it was that interested him in it at all. His eyes swept up the column and something else drew his attention. It was also a brief paragraph, but it started an idea in his mind.

"There has been a let-down to the social activities of the senior class since the regrettable affair of the Gates Scholarship Cup, but we hope that such a condition of affairs will soon mend."

His eyes narrowed slowly. Carefully he read the first note and then the second and tried to construct a picture in his mind. He placed the magazine back on the table and sat back in his chair, his eyes half closed. Jim looked up from his book.

"Better go to bed, instead of falling asleep there, kid," he advised.

"I'm not falling asleep, Jim," Don answered. "Listen here, I've got something on my mind, and I want your advice."

For some time he talked to Jim, who forgot his lessons in his interest. At last Jim slowly nodded his head.

"It sounds good to me. Are you going to tell the colonel in the morning?"

"Yes, the first chance that I get."

Just before his first class the next morning Don found Colonel Morrell in his study. The colonel motioned him to a seat.

"What is on your mind this morning, Don?" asked the headmaster.

"Yes, he was," returned the colonel, promptly. "In fact, I had him watched, but he didn't take a thing out with him."

"I see. Could it have been possible that he came back and got something later on?"

"Possible, but I don't think so. No, I'm pretty sure that he didn't have anything to do with it, in spite of his oddly abrupt leaving."

"My thought is that Mr. Long was never guilty, Colonel Morrell," Don went on. "I feel that something strange was connected with that whole case, and that your former captain suffered a grave injustice. I wonder if you'd allow me to do something?"

"What do you want to do, Mercer?"

"Do you know where this former janitor went?" Don asked.

"When he left here he went to live in Ashland, a small manufacturing town seventy miles east of here. I had to write to him once to send him some money due him, so I know that much. But whether or not he lives there now I don't know, of course."

"I see. Can you find that address and will you allow me to go to Ashland and talk to this man Mulford?"

For a brief instant the colonel studied Don's earnest face and then he nodded shortly. "Yes, I can do all of that," he said. "You will want to go on a Saturday afternoon, won't you?"

"Yes, sir. You have faith in my idea, colonel?"

"Not as much faith in your idea as I have in you," returned the colonel. "I know what you are capable of. I too have never believed Long guilty, and I'd like to see him cleared."

"Thank you," said Don, as he left the room. "I'll go next Saturday, Colonel Morrell."

Nothing more was said on the subject until the following Saturday morning, at which time the colonel gave Don a slip of paper with the name of a street in Ashland on it. While the other cadets were out on the field waiting for a football game to begin Don left the school and boarded a train for Ashland.

"I don't know that this isn't a wild goose chase for fair," he reflected, as the swift train bore him across the country. "But I'm willing to make an attempt to find out what happened to that cup."

It was late in the afternoon when he reached the manufacturing city, and after some inquiries he located the street on which the former janitor had lived. Don finally found the house, a narrow affair of red brick, sandwiched in between high rows on either side. He rang the bell and at last it was answered by a tall, thin girl.

"Does Mr. Mulford live here?" Don asked, raising his hat. He was not dressed in his uniform, as that would have attracted too much attention, but was clad in a plain everyday dress suit.

"Yes, he does," was the gratifying answer. That was all the girl said, and she seemed to be waiting for something else.

"Can he come to the door?" Don went on, seeing that she did not intend to say anything more.

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