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 CHAPTER 10
10.1
A/C temperature current amplitude
Automobile current phase
coolant temperature power
gasoline level power factor
oil pressure spectrum
sound intensity Fan speed
inside temperature Humidity
Speed Lawn mower speed
Distance traveled Light intensity
Battery charge level Mobile phone signal level
Battery voltage Oven temperature
Fluid level Refrigerator temperature
Computer display Sewing machine speed
hue Stereo volume
contrast Stove temperature
brightness Time
Electrical variables TV picture brightness
voltage amplitude Audio sound level
voltage phase Wind velocity

10.2
(a) 20 log (120) = 41.6 dB | 20 log -60 = 35.6 dB | 20 log (50000) = 94.0 dB
20 log -100000 = 100 dB | 20 log(0.90) = -0.915 dB
(b) 20 log (600) = 55.6 dB | 20 log (3000) = 69.5 dB | 20 log -106 = 120 dB
20 log(200000) = 106 dB | 20 log(0.95) = -0.446 dB
(c) 10 log (2x109 ) = 93.0 dB | 10 log (4x10 5 ) = 56.0 dB
10 log (6x108 ) = 87.8 dB | 10 log(1010 ) = 100 dB

10-1 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

04/17/2015
10.3
Using the final case:
Vo 1.71V
Av = = = 17.1 AvdB = 20 log (17.1) = 24.8 dB
Vi 0.1V
I o 1.71V 0.1V
Ai = = = 5.45x10 4 AidB = 20 log ( 5.45x10 4 ) = 94.7 dB
I i 32W 102kW
Po 45.2mW
Ap = = = 9.22x10 5 ApdB = 10 log ( 9.22x10 5 ) = 59.6 dB
Vi I i 49.0nW
24.8 + 94.7
Checking: dB = 59.8 dB
2

10.4
Av = 20 log( Av ) | Using our calculator solver or MATLAB yields Av = 29.353

10.5
(a)

(b) 500 Hz : 1Ð0o | 1500 Hz : 0.333Ð0 o | 2500 Hz : 0.200Ð0o

(c) 500 Hz : 2Ð30 o | 1500 Hz : 1Ð30 o | 2500 Hz : 1Ð30 o
(d) 500 Hz : 2Ð30 o | 1500 Hz : 3Ð30 o | 2500 Hz : 5Ð30 o
(e) Yes

10-2 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
10.6
Vs = 0.0025V | PO = 25W | Vo = 2PO RL = 2 ( 25) (8) = 20.0 V
20.0
Av = = 8000 | 20 log (8000) = 78.1 dB
.0025
0.0025V V 20.0V
Ii = = 45.5nA | I o = o = = 2.50A
5kW + 50kW 8W 8W
= 5.49x10 7 | 20 log ( 5.49x10 7 ) = 155 dB
2.50A
Ai =
45.5nA
= 4.40 x 1011 | 10 log ( 4.400x1011 ) = 116 dB
25W
Ap =
.0025V ( 45.5nA)
2
78.1+155
Checking: = 116 dB
2

10.7
Vi = 0.01 V | PO = 30 mW | Vo = 2PO RL = 2 (.03) (8) = 0.693 V
0.693
Av = = 69.3 | 20 log ( 69.3) = 36.8 dB
.01
0.01V V 0.693V
Ii = = 192 nA | I o = o = = 86.6 mA
2kW + 50kW 8W 8W
= 4.51 x 10 5 | 20 log ( 4.51 x 10 5 ) = 113 dB
86.6mA
Ai =
192nA
= 3.13 x 10 7 | 10 log ( 3.13 x 10 7 ) = 75.0 dB
0.03W
Ap =
.01V (192nA )
2
36.8 +113
Checking: = 74.9 dB
2

10-3 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
10.8
( a) vth = voc = 0.760 2 = 1.08 V
RL v -v æ 0.760 - 0.740 ö
vo = vth ® Rth = RL th o = 1040 ç ÷ = 28.1 W
Rth + RL vo è 0.740 ø
( b) vth = voc = 0.768 2 = 1.09 V
RL v -v æ 0.768 - 0.721 ö
vo = vth ® Rth = RL th o = 430 ç ÷ = 28.0 W
Rth + RL vo è 0.721 ø
( c) 1.09 V and 1.08 V ® 9% error and 8% error
( d ) Mac Laptop - 1V, 28 W

10.9
( a) Vo = 2RL PO = 2 (8)10 = 12.7 V
Vi 2 12 1V 12.7V
Pi = = = 25.0 mW | Ii = = 49.9 m A | I o = = 1.59 A
2Ri 2 ( 20kW + 32W) 20kW + 32W 8W
Vo 12.7V 1.59A
Av = = = 12.7 ( 22.0 dB ) | Ai = = 3.19x10 4 ( 90.0 dB )
Vi 1V 49.9m A
10W
Ap = = 4.00x10 5 ( 56.0 dB )
25mW
( b) Vo = 10.0 V; recommend ±12-V or ±15-V supplies

10.10
2P
V = 2PR | I= | P = 50 mW
R
The 32- case represents a good trade off between voltage and current for battery powered
applications.

R () V (V) I (mA)

8 0.894 112
32 1.79 55.9
1000 10.0 10.0

10-4 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
10.11
i1
g11 = : v1 = 10 4 i1 +151 i1 ( 220kW) ® g11 = 3.01 x 10-8 S
v1 i2 =0
i1 220kW
g12 = : i1 = - (i2 +150i1 ) ® g12 = -6.62 x 10-3
i2 v1 =0
220kW +10kW
v2
g21 = : v2 = 151i1 ( 220kW) | i1 = g11v1 ® g21 = 1.00
v1 i2 =0

v2 v2 v v
g22 = : i2 = + 2 +150 2 ® g22 = 66.2 W
i2 v1 =0
220kW 10kW 10kW

150 i1

150 i1

10.12

Two Transfer function analyses [-V(I2)/V1 and I(V1)/I2] yield:

1
g11 = g12 = 6.621x10-3 g21 = 0.9997 g22 = 66.21 W
33.23 MW

10-5 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
10.13
i1 1 i1 2kW
g11 = = = 0.167 mS | g12 = =- = - 0.333
v1 i2 =0 4kW+2kW i2 v1=0
4kW+2kW
v2 2kW 4kW
g21 = : v2 = v1 + v1 (-0.04) ( 75kW) ® g21 = -2000
v1 i2 =0
4kW+2kW 4kW+2kW
v2
g22 = : v2 = (i2 - 0.04va ) 75kW + i2 ( 2kW 4kW) | va = -i2 ( 2kW 4kW)
i2 v1 =0

g22 = 4.08 x 10 6 W

10.14
i1
g11 = : v1 = 10 3 i1 ® g11 = 1.00 x 10-3 S
v1 i2 =0
i1
g12 = : i1 = -i2 ® g12 = -1.00
i2 v1 =0

v2
g21 = : v2 = v1 +0.2v1 ( 30kW) | v1 = 6001v1 ® g21 = 6.00x10 3
v1 i2 =0

v2 v2
g22 = : i2 = ® g22 = 30 kW
i2 v1 =0
30kW

0.2 v1 0.2 v1

10-6 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
10.15

Two Transfer function analyses [V(I2)/V1 and I(V1)/I2] yield:

1
g11 = g12 = -1.000 g21 = 6001 g22 = 30.00 kW
1.000 kW
10.16
54
Rin RL
( a) Vo = Vi A | A = 10 20 = 501.2
Rin + RI RL + Rout
10 6 16
6 (
Av = 501.2 ) = 485.5 | AvdB = 20 log ( 485.0 ) = 53.7 dB
2x10 +10 3
0.5 +16
485.0Vi
Io
Ai = = 16 = 3.037 x 10 7 | AidB = 20 log ( 3.037 x 10 7 ) = 150 dB
Ii Vi
2x10 3 +10 6
485.0Vi
485.0Vi
Vo I o
Ap =
Vi I i
=
Vi ( )
16 = 485.0 3.037 x 10 7 = 1.473 x 1010
Vi
2x10 3 +10 6
53.7 +150
ApdB = 10 log (1.473 x 1010 ) = 102 dB Check: = 102 dB
2
V2 5.657
( b) 1 = O ® VO = 5.657 V | Vi = = 11.66 mV
2 (16 ) 485.0
I o2 I2 1
( c) R out and R L see the same current. P =RL ® o =
2 2 16
æ 0.01166 ö 10 6
2
Io
2
1 Ii2
PRout = R = 0.5 = 31.25 mW | PRin = Rin = ç ÷ = 67.7 pW
2 16 2 è 2x10 3 +10 6 ø 2
P = 31.25mW + 67.7pW = 31.3 mW

10-7 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
10.17

10.18

10.19
2Po 2 ( 0.1W )
io = = = 18.3 mA | v = io ( 28 + 600) W = 11.5 V
RL 600W
(18.3mA) ( 28W) = 4.69 mW
2
iv i2 R
PD = o = 210 mW | PL = o out =
2 2 2

10.20
Rin RL
Vo = Vi A To maximize the output voltage, Rin = ¥ and Rout = 0 W
Rin + RI RL + Rout
Vo2 40 2 50W
Vo = AVi = -2000Vi | Vo = 0.02V ( -2000) = -40 V | P = = = 50.0 W | AP = =¥
2RL 2 (16) 0

10.21
74
20kW 2kW
Av = -10 20 = -5010 | - 5010 = A ® A = -5420
20kW +1kW 2kW + 0.06kW
AdB = 20 log ( 5420) = 74.7 dB

10.22
RI Rout Rout RI
i1 = ii io = b i1 Ai = b Rin = 0 Rout = ¥ Aimax = b
RI + Rin Rout + RL Rout + RL RI + Rin

10-8 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
10.23
éë10-6 ( 400)ùû
2
I o2 0.80mW
Rin = 0 W | Rout = ¥ | P = RL = 10 4 W = 0.80 mW | AP = =¥
2 2 0

10.24
RI Rout 200kW 300kW
I o = Ii b | 150 = b ® b =196
RI + Rin Rout + RL 200kW + 20kW 300kW+ 56kW

10.25
RS should be RI.
Vo
Vo
æ Vo ö RI + Rin
2
Vo I o RL
AP = = =ç ÷
Vi I i V Vi è Vi ø RL
i
RI + Rin
éæ ö2 ù æ Vo ö
2
æ ö
V R + R ú = 10 log ç ÷ +10 log ç RI + Rin ÷
APdB = 10 log êç ÷ o I in

êëè Vi ø RL úû è Vi ø è RL ø
æV ö æ RL ö æ RL ö
APdB = 20 log ç o ÷ -10 log ç ÷ = AvdB -10 log ç ÷
è Vi ø è RI + Rin ø è RI + Rin ø
æI ö
2
VI I o RL I o RL
AP = o o = =ç o ÷
Vi I i Ii ( RI + Rin ) Ii è Ii ø RI + Rin
éæ ö2 ù æ Io ö
2
æ RL ö
ê Io RL ú
AidB = 10 log ç ÷ = 10 log ç ÷ +10 log ç ÷
êëè I i ø RI + Rin úû è Ii ø è RI + Rin ø
æI ö æ RL ö æ RL ö
APdB = 20 log ç o ÷ +10 log ç ÷ = AidB +10 log ç ÷
è Ii ø è RI + Rin ø è RI + Rin ø
A + AidB
Note : APdB = vdB
2

10-9 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
10.26
Rin Rin RL
Vo = Vi A A
Rin + RI Rin + Rout RL + Rout
5000 5000 500
Av = (-120) (-120) = +5.45 x 10 3
5000 +1000 5000 + 500 500 + 500
A vdB = 20 log ( 5.45 x 10 ) = 74.7 dB
3

I o 5.45x10 3 Vi
= +6.54 x 10 4 | A idB = 20 log ( 6.54 x 10 6 ) = 96.3 dB
1
Ai = =
Ii 500 Vi
6000
5.45x10 Vi (+6.54x10 4 Ii )
3

AP = = +3.56 x 10 8 | A PdB = 10 log ( 3.56x108 ) = 85.5 dB

Vi Ii
74.7 + 96.3
Checking: 85.5 dB
2

10.27
In the dc steady state, the internal circuit voltages cannot exceed the power supply limits.
(a) +15 V (b) -9 V

10.28
dvO 12 - 4
(a) For VB = 0.6V , VO = +8V | Av = = = -40
dvI v I =0.6V
0.5 - 0.7
Av = 32 dB ÐAV = 180 o
| VM £ 0.100 V for linear operation
(b) vI (t ) = (0.6 + 0.1sin1000t ) V vO (t ) = (8 - 4sin1000t ) V

10.29
dvO
(a) For VB = 0.5V, VO = +12V | is different for positive and negative values of
dvI
VM sin1000t. Thus, the gain is different for positive and negative signal excursions
and the output will always be a distorted sine wave. This is not a useful choice of
bias point for the amplifier.
dvO
(b) For VB = 1.1V, VO = +2V and = 0. The gain is zero for this bias point.
dvI
Thus, this is also not a useful choice of bias point for the amplifier.

10-10 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
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10.30
dvO 4-2
(a) For V B = 0.8V , VO = +3V | Av =
dv I
=
0.7 - 0.9
= -10
v I =0.8V

Av = 20dB ÐAV = 180 o

| VM £ 0.100 V for linear operation
vI (t ) = (0.8 + 0.1sin1000pt ) V vO (t ) = (0.3 - 0.2sin1000pt ) V
dvO
(b) For V B = 0.2V , VO = +14V | Av =
dv I
=0
v I =0.2V

vI (t ) = (0.8 + 0.2sin1000pt ) V The output signal will be distorted for any value of VM .
vO (t ) = 14V + Fourier Series for the distorted waveform.

10-11 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
10.31
dvO 12 - 4
For sin (1000t ) ³ 0, VO = 12V, and the gain (VTC slope) is Av = = = -40.
dvI vI =0.6V
0.5 - 0.7
vI = éë0.5 + 0.1 sin (1000t )ùû V vO = éë12 - 4 sin (1000t )ùû V
dvO 14 -12
For sin (1000t ) < 0, VO = 12V, and the gain (VTC slope) is Av = = = -10.
dvI vI =0.6V
0.3- 0.5
vO = éë12 -1 sin (1000t )ùû V

Using the MATLAB FFT capability with a fundamental frequency of 1000/2 Hz:
t=linspace(0,2*pi/1000,1000);
y=12-4*sin(1000*t).*(sin(1000*t)>=0)-sin(1000*t).*(sin(1000*t)<0);
z=fftshift(fft(y))/1000;
yields the following series:
vO ( t) =11.05 - 2.50sin(1000t ) + 0.638cos(2000t ) + 0.127cos( 4000t ) + 0.0546cos(6000t ) Note:
It is worth plotting this function to see if it is correct.
The Fourier coefficients may also be calculated directly using MATLAB. For example, for the
cosine terms:
Define a function:
function y=four(t)
y=cos(fn*1000*t).*(12-4*sin(1000*t).*(sin(1000*t)>=0)-
sin(1000*t).*(sin(1000*t)<0));
global fn
fn=0; quad('four',0,pi/500)*1000/pi

10-12 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
10.32
dvO 12 - 4
(a) For VB = 0.6V , VO = +8V | Av = = = -40
dvI v I =0.6V
0.5 - 0.7
Av = 32 dB ÐAV = 180 o
| VM £ 0.100 V for linear operation
(b) vI (t ) = (0.6 + 0.1sin1000t ) V vO (t ) = (8 - 4sin1000t ) V

There are only two spectral components: 8 V at dc and -4 V at 159 Hz

10.33
At the input signal frequency : vi = 0.25sin1200pt V | vo = 4sin1200pt V
4V 0.82 + 0.42
Av = = 16 | Second and third harmonics are present. THD = 100 % = 22.4 %
0.25V 4

10.34
5V
vI = 0.004 sin 2000pt V | Av = = 1250 | Third and fifth harmonics are present.
0.004V
0.52 + 0.202
THD = 100 % = 10.8 %
5

10-13 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
10.35
(a,b)
EDU>> t=linspace(0,0.002,2048);
EDU>> vo=max(-10, min(10,(5+15*sin(2000*pi*t))));
EDU>> plot(t,vo)
EDU>> s=fft(vo)/2048;
EDU>> smag=sqrt(s.*conj(s));
EDU>> smag(1:12)

ans =

Columns 1 through 12

2.4588 0.0038 5.3105 0.0066 1.3341 0.0026 0.4427 0.0028 0.0883 0.0012
0.1863 0.0023

The record length for the fft is 0.002 second so the fft coefficients are at 500 Hz intervals. The
dc and 1st through 5th harmonics are underlined above. Note that these are only half the actual
magnitudes except for the dc component. The other half of the FFT outputs are folded about the
Nyquist frequency. Also note that the phases are not listed above. Some represent sin terms and
some are cosine terms.

2 1.3342 + 0.44272 + 0.08832 + 0.18632

THD = 100% = 26.8%
2(5.3105)
(b)
¥
2p
f (t ) = a0 + å ( an cos nw ot + bn sin nw ot ) with wo =
n=1
T
T
2 T 2 T
a0 = ò f (t ) dt | an = ò f (t ) cos nw ot dt | bn = ò f (t ) sin nw ot dt
1
T 0 T 0 T 0
EDU>> ao='min(10,(5+15*sin(2000*pi*x)))' ;
EDU>> a1='cos(2000*pi*x).*min(10,(5+15*sin(2000*pi*x)))' ;
EDU>> a2='cos(4000*pi*x).*min(10,(5+15*sin(2000*pi*x)))' ;
EDU>> a3='cos(6000*pi*x).*min(10,(5+15*sin(2000*pi*x)))' ;
EDU>> b1='sin(2000*pi*x).*min(10,(5+15*sin(2000*pi*x)))' ;
EDU>> b2='sin(4000*pi*x).*min(10,(5+15*sin(2000*pi*x)))' ;
EDU>> b3='sin(6000*pi*x).*min(10,(5+15*sin(2000*pi*x)))' ;
EDU>> aoinline=inline(ao);
EDU>> a1inline=inline(a1);
EDU>> a2inline=inline(a2);
EDU>> a3inline=inline(a3);
EDU>> b1inline=inline(b1);
EDU>> b2inline=inline(b2);
EDU>> b3inline=inline(b3);

10-14 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
EDU>> ao=1000*quad(aoinline,0,.001)
ao = 2.4588
EDU>> a1=2000*quad(a1inline,0,.001)
a1 = 0.0053
EDU>> a2=2000*quad(a2inline,0,.001)
a2 =2.6700
EDU>> a3=2000*quad(a3inline,0,.001)
a3 =-5.9509e-004
EDU>> b1=2000*quad(b1inline,0,.001)
b1 =10.6828
EDU>> b2=2000*quad(b2inline,0,.001)
b2 =0.0033
EDU>> b3=2000*quad(b3inline,0,.001)
b3 =0.8918

ao, b1, a2, b3 agree with the fft coefficients.

10.36
t=linspace(0,0.002,512);
y=max(-1,min(1,1.5*sin(1400*pi*t)));
plot(t,y)

w=1400*pi*linspace(0,0.001428571,512);
y=max(-1,min(1,1.5*sin(w)));
s=fft(y)/512;
ymag=sqrt(s.*conj(s));
y2=ymag.*ymag;
sumy2=sum(y2)-2*y2(1)-2*y2(2);
thd=100*sqrt(sumy2)/(2*y2(2)) thd = 18.3929 %

10-15 ©R. C. Jaeger & T. N. Blalock

06/23/2015
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girl was introduced to those who had in the past done so much for
her brother, and those who were Dave's chums. Jessie was a trifle
shy at first, but this presently wore away, and when Laura heard
what the Wadsworths had done for her brother she speedily took
mother and daughter to her heart, and Jessie and she became the
best of friends.
It was assuredly a grand gathering around the bountiful table which
the Wadsworths had supplied, and all lingered long, listening to what
the various members of the Porter family had to tell: of Dave's
doings on the Potts farm, at school, and in quest of his relatives; of
Dunston Porter's treasure hunt in the South Seas; of Mr. David
Porter's trip to Europe with Laura; and of the girl's adventures on the
ranch and elsewhere.
"Strange as it may seem, I have met two boys who knew Dave,"
said Laura, during the course of the conversation. "One was that
scamp, Nick Jasniff, who tried to make himself agreeable in London."
"Yes, I know about him," answered Dave. "But who was the other?"
"The other is the son of the man who owns the cattle ranch next to
Mr. Endicott's, Mr. Felix Merwell."
"Merwell!" cried Dave, Roger, and Phil in a breath.
"Yes. Why do you look so astonished?"
"Do you mean Link Merwell's father?" asked her brother.
"Yes. Link came out there just a few days before I started for the
East. He seemed to be a nice sort, and he is one of the best
horseback riders I ever saw."
"Did you—er—go out with him?" stammered Dave.
"Yes, twice, but not alone—Belle was along." Laura looked at her
brother, whose face was a study. "What makes you look so queer?
You know Mr. Merwell, don't you?"
"Oh, yes, we know him," answered Phil, before Dave could speak.
"We'd like to know less of him," added Roger.
"Oh!" And now Laura's face showed her wonder.
"You see, it's this way," continued the senator's son, thinking it
might be difficult for Dave to explain. "Link Merwell tried to lord it
over a lot of us fellows at Oak Hall. He's a domineering chap, and
some of us wouldn't stand for it. I gave him a piece of my mind
once, and so did Phil, and Dave did more—gave him a sound
thrashing."
"Oh, Dave, did you really!" Laura's face showed her distress. "Why, I
—I thought he was nice enough. Maybe it was only a boyish
quarrel," she added, hopefully. "I know boys do fight sometimes with
hardly a reason for it."
"Dave had a good reason for hitting Merwell," said Phil. "The best
reason in the world." He looked at Jessie and Mrs. Wadsworth and
the others. "I'll not spoil this gathering by saying what it was. But it
was something very mean, and Merwell deserved the drubbing he
got."
"Oh, I am so sorry! That is, I don't mean I am sorry Dave thrashed
him—if he deserved it—but I am sorry that I—I went out with him,
and that I—I started a correspondence with him. I thought he was
nice, by his general looks."
"Oh, he can make himself look well, when he dresses up," said
Roger. "And he can act the gentleman on the outside. But if you get
to know him thoroughly you'll find him a different sort."
"I don't wish to know him if he's that kind," answered Laura, quickly.
"But I thought he was all right, especially as he was the son of the
owner of the next ranch. I am sorry now I ever spoke to him."
"And you have been writing to him?" asked Dave. "I thought you
said you had met him only a few days before you came away?"
"So I did. But he wanted me to buy something for him in Chicago—a
lens for his camera, and asked me to write from there, and I did.
And, just for fun, I sent him two letters I wrote on the train—along
with some letters to Belle and some other folks I know. I did it to
pass the time,—so I wouldn't know how long it was taking me to get
here. It was foolish to do so, and it will teach me a lesson to be
careful about writing in the future."
"I'm sorry you wrote to him," answered Dave, soberly. But how sorry
he was to be, and how distressed his sister was to become, he was
still to learn.
Not further to mar the joy of the occasion Link Merwell's name was
dropped, and Roger and Phil told of some funny initiations into the
secret society at Oak Hall, which set everybody to laughing, and
then Dunston Porter related the particulars of a hunt after bears he
had once made in the Rockies. Thus the afternoon and evening wore
away swiftly and all too soon it was time to retire. Laura was given a
room next to that occupied by Dave, and long after the rest of the
house was quiet brother and sister sat by a window, looking out at
the moonlight on the snow and discussing the past.
"You look very much like father," said Laura, "and much like Uncle
Dunston, too. No wonder that old sailor, Billy Dill, thought he had
seen you when he only saw Uncle Dunston."
"And father tells me you look like mother," answered Dave, softly. "I
do not remember her, but if she looked like you she must have been
very handsome," and Dave smiled and brushed a stray lock back
from his sister's brow.
"It is too bad she cannot see us now, Dave—how happy it would
make her! I have missed her so much—it is no easy thing to get
along without a mother's care, is it?—or a father's care, either.
Perhaps if mamma were alive I'd be different in some things. I
shouldn't be so careless in what I do—in making friends with that
Link Merwell, for instance, and sending him letters." Laura looked
genuinely distressed as she uttered the last words.
"Well, you didn't know him, so you are not to blame. But I shouldn't
send him any more letters."
"You can depend upon it I won't."
"He is the kind who would laugh at you for doing it, and make fun of
you to all his friends."
"He'll not get another line from me, and if he writes I'll return the
letters," answered Laura, firmly.
"Did he say when he was going back to Oak Hall?"
"Inside of two weeks. He said he had had a little trouble with a
teacher, and the master of the school had advised him to take a
short vacation and give the matter a chance to blow over."
Laura had arrived at Crumville on Thursday, and it was decided that
Dave, Roger, and Phil should not return to Oak Hall until the
following Monday. On Friday and Saturday the young folks went
sleighing and skating, Jessie being one of the party, and on Sunday
the entire household attended church. It was a service into which
Dave entered with all his heart, and he thanked God from the
bottom of his soul that at last his sister, as well as his father and his
uncle, had been restored to him.
"After I go back to boarding school where are you and Laura and
Uncle Dunston going to stay?" questioned Dave of his father.
Mr. Porter smiled faintly. "I have a little secret about that, Dave," he
answered. "I'll tell you later—after everything is ripe."
"I know the Wadsworths would hate to have me leave them—and
Professor Potts won't want me to go either."
"Well, you wait, Dave,—and see what comes," answered his father;
and with this the lad had to be content.
Bright and early Monday morning the three boys had breakfast and
started for the depot, to take the train for Oakdale, the nearest town
to Oak Hall. Laura, Jessie, and Mr. David Porter went along to see
them off.
"Now, Dave, I want to see you make the most of this term at
school," said Mr. Porter. "Now you have Laura and me, you won't
have so much to worry about."
"I'll do my level best, father," he answered. "We want you to come
out at the top of the class," said Laura.
"And Dave can do it too—I know he can," remarked Jessie, and gave
him a sunny smile of encouragement.
"How about us poor chaps?" asked Roger. "Can't we come in
somewhere?"
"Yes, you must come in right after Dave," answered Laura, and this
made everybody laugh.
"The higher we get in school the harder the work becomes," came
from Phil. "But I am going to peg away at it—provided the other
fellows will let me."
"Phil always was very studious," said Dave, with an old-time grin
spreading over his face. "He'd rather study a problem in geometry or
translate Latin than read a story book or play baseball; wouldn't you,
Phil?"
"Not much! and you know it. But if a fellow has got to grind, why
——"
"He can grind—and play baseball, too," added Mr. Porter. "My parting
advice is: when you study, study for all you are worth, and when you
play, play for all you are worth."
"Here comes the train!" cried Laura, and turning, she kissed her
brother. "Good-bye, Roger; good-bye, Phil!"
"Good-bye!" came from the others, and a general handshaking
followed. Then the three chums ran for the train, got aboard, and
were off for school once more.
 CHAPTER III

ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL

"There is one thing I've forgotten to mention to you," said Phil, as

the train rolled on its way and Crumville was left far behind. "That is
that this term Doctor Clay has offered a special set of prizes to the
students standing highest in various subjects. There is a prize for
history, another for Latin, and a third for English literature and
theme-writing. In addition there is to be a special prize for the
student who can write the best paper on 'The Past and Future of our
Country.' This last contest is open only to those who stand above the
eighty per cent. level in their classes."
"That's interesting," answered Dave. "How many reach that level, do
you think, Phil?"
"Not more than thirty all told, and of those I don't believe more than
twenty will send in papers."
"Dave, you ought to try," said Roger. "You were always good at
composition."
"So are you, Roger."
"I'm not as good as you, and I know it. I like history more than
anything else, and I guess I'll try for that prize."
"Well, what is the past of our country but history?" continued Dave,
with a smile.
"That part might be easy; but what of the future? I'm no good at
prophesying."
"Oh, couldn't you speak of the recent inventions and of what is
coming—marvelous submarine boats, airships, wireless telegraphy,
wonderful cures by means of up-to-date surgery, and then of the big
cities of the West, of the new railroads stretching out everywhere,
and of the fast ocean liners, and the Panama Canal, and the
irrigation of the Western dry lands, and——"
"Hold on, Dave!" cried Phil. "You are giving Roger all your
ammunition. Put that in your own paper."
"Oh, there's a whole lot more," was the smiling answer. "The thirty-
and forty-storied buildings in our big cities, the underground
railways, the tubes under the rivers, the tremendous suspension
bridges, the automobile carriages and business trucks,—not to
mention the railroad trains that are to run on one rail at a speed of a
hundred miles an hour. Oh, there are lots of things—if one only
stops to think of them."
"The prize is yours, Dave!" exclaimed the senator's son. "You've
mentioned more in three minutes than I would have thought of in
three weeks. I'll stick to history."
"And I'll stick to English literature—I'm pretty well up on that, thank
goodness!" said the shipowner's son.
After that the talk drifted to other things—of the doings of the
students at Oak Hall, and of how Job Haskers, one of the assistant
teachers, had caught some of the lads playing a trick on Pop
Swingly, the janitor, and punished them severely for it.
"The trick didn't amount to much," said Phil, "and I rather believe
Swingly enjoyed it. But old Haskers was in a bilious mood and made
the fellows stay in after school for three days."
"Were you in it?" asked Dave.
"Yes; and all of us have vowed to get square on Haskers."
"It's a wonder Doctor Clay doesn't get rid of Haskers—he is so
unpopular," was Roger's comment.
"Haskers is a fine teacher, that's why he is kept. But I like Mr. Dale
much better," said Dave.
"Oh, everybody does!"
"All but Link Merwell," said Phil. "Isn't it strange, he seems to get
along very well with Haskers."
"Two of a kind maybe," returned the senator's son.
After a long run the Junction was reached, where the boys had to
change cars for Oakdale. They got off and found they had twenty-
five minutes to wait.
"Remember the time we were here and had the trouble with Isaac
Pludding?" asked Roger.
"I'll never forget it," answered Dave, with a grin. "By the way, as we
have time to spare let us go around to Denman's restaurant and
have a cup of chocolate and a piece of pie. That car was so cold it
chilled me."
Growing boys are always hungry, so, despite the generous breakfast
they had had, they walked over to the restaurant named. The man
who kept it remembered them well and smiled broadly as they took
seats at a table.
"On your way to school, I suppose," he said, as he served them.
"Ain't following up Ike Pludding this trip, are you?"
"Hardly," answered Dave. "What do you know of him?"
"I know he is about down and out," answered Amos Denman. "And
served him right too."
The boys were about to leave the restaurant when Dave chanced to
glance in one of the windows. There, on a big platter, was an inviting
heap of chicken salad, above which was a sign announcing it was for
sale at thirty cents a pint.
"Let me try that salad, will you?" Dave asked.
"Certainly. Want to take some along?" And Amos Denman passed
over a forkful.
"What are you going to do with chicken salad?" questioned Roger.
"Oh, I thought we might want to celebrate our return by a little
feast, Roger."
"Hurrah! just the thing!" ejaculated the senator's son. "Is it good? It
is? All right, I'll take a quart."
"I'll take a quart, too," said Dave. "I guess you can put it all
together."
"Are those mince pies fresh?" asked Phil, pointing to some in a case.
"Just out of the oven. Feel of them."
"Then I'll take two."
In the end the three youths purchased quite a number of things
from the restaurant keeper, who tied up the articles in pasteboard
boxes wrapped in brown paper. Then the lads had to run for the
train and were the last on board.
It had begun to snow again and the white flakes were coming down
thickly when the train rolled into the neat little station at Oakdale.
The boys were the only ones to alight and they looked around
eagerly to see if the school carryall was waiting for them.
"Hello, fellows!" cried a voice from the end of the platform, and
Joseph Beggs, usually called Buster because of his fatness, waddled
up. "Thought you'd be on this train."
"How are you, Buster?" answered Dave, shaking hands. "My, but
aren't you getting thin!" And he looked the fat boy over with a grin.
"It's worry that's doing it," answered Buster, calmly. "Haven't slept a
night since you went away, Dave. So you really found your dad and
your sister! Sounds like a regular six-act-and-fourteen-scene drama.
We'll have to write it up and get Horsehair to star in it. First Act:
Found on the Railroad Tracks; Second Act: The Faithful Farm Boy;
Third Act: The King of the School; Fourth Act——"
"Waiting for the Stage," interrupted Dave. "Keep it, Buster, until
we're on the way to Oak Hall. Did you come down alone?"
"Not much he didn't come down alone!" cried a voice at Dave's
elbow, and Maurice Hamilton, always called Shadow, appeared.
Maurice was as tall and thin as Buster was stout. "Let me feel your
hand and know you are really here, Dave," he went on. "Why, your
story is—is—what shall I say?"
"Great," suggested Roger.
"Marvelous," added Phil.
"Out of sight," put in Buster Beggs.
"All good—and that puts me in mind of a story. One time there was
a——"
"Shadow—so early in the day!" cried the senator's son, reproachfully.
"Oh, you can't shut him off," exploded Buster. "He's been telling
chestnuts ever since we left the Hall."
"This isn't a chestnut, it's a——"
"Hickory nut," finished Phil; "hard to crack—as the darky said of the
china egg he wanted to fry."
"It isn't a chestnut or a hickory nut either," expostulated the story-
teller of the school. "It's a brand-new one. One time there was a
county——"
"If it's new you ought to have it copyrighted, Shadow," said Roger.
"Perhaps a trade-mark might do," added Dave. "You can get one for
——"
"Say, don't you want to hear this story?" demanded Shadow.
"Yes, yes, go on!" was the chorus.
"Now we've had the first installment we'll have to have the finish or
die," continued Phil, tragically.
"Well, one time there was a county fair, with a number of side
shows, snakes, acrobats, and such things. One tent had a big sign
over it, 'The Greatest and Most Marvelous Wonder of the Age—A
man who plays the piano better with his feet than most skilled
musicians can play with their hands. Admission 10 cents.' That sign
attracted a big crowd and brought in a lot of money. When the folks
got inside a man came out, sat down in front of a piano that played
with paper rolls, and pumped the thing for all he was worth with his
feet!"
"Oh, what a sell!" roared Phil. "Shadow, that's the worst you ever
told."
"Quite a feat," said Dave.
"But painful to the understanding," added Roger. He looked around.
"Hello, here's Horsehair at last."
He referred to Jackson Lemond, the driver for the school, who was
always called Horsehair because of the hairs which invariably clung
to his clothing. The driver was coming down the main street of the
town with a package of harness dressing in his hand.
"Had to git this," he explained. "How de do, young gents? All ready
to go to the Hall?"
"Horsehair, we're going to write a play about Dave's discoveries,"
said Buster. "We want you to star in it. We know you can make a
hit."
"No starrin' fer me," answered the driver, who had once played
minor parts in a barn-storming theatrical company. "I'll stick to the
hosses."
"But think of it, Horsehair," went on Buster. "We'll have you eaten up
by cannibals of the South Seas, frozen to death in Norway
snowstorms, shooting bears as big as elephants, and——"
"Oh, Buster, do let up!" cried Dave. "None of those things are true,
and you know it. Come ahead, I am anxious to see the rest of the
fellows," and Dave ran for the carryall, with his dress-suit case in
one hand and one of the packages from the restaurant in the other.
Soon the crowd had piled into the turnout, Phil on the front seat
beside the driver, and away they went. The carryall had been put on
runners and ran as easily as a cutter, having two powerful horses to
pull it.
All of the boys were in high spirits and as they sped over the snow
they sang and cracked jokes to their hearts' content. They did not
forget the old school song, sung to the tune of "Auld Lang Syne,"
and sang this with a vigor that tested their lungs to the uttermost:

"Oak Hall we never shall forget,

No matter where we roam;
It is the very best of schools,
To us it's just like home!
Then give three cheers, and let them ring
Throughout this world so wide,
To let the people know that we
Elect to here abide!"

"By the way, how is Gus Plum getting along these days?" asked Dave
of Shadow Hamilton, during a pause in the fun. He referred, as my
old readers know, to a youth who in days gone by had been a great
bully at the Hall.
"Gus Plum needs watching," was the low answer, so that none of the
other boys might hear. "He is better in some ways, Dave, and much
worse in others."
"How do you mean, Shadow?"
"I can't explain here—but I'll do it in private some day," answered
Shadow; and then the carryall swept up to the school steps and a
number of students ran forth from the building to greet the new
arrivals.
 CHAPTER IV

THE FUN OF A NIGHT

As my old readers know, Oak Hall was a large structure of brick and
stone, built in the shape of a broad cross, with wide hallways
running from north to south and east to west. All of the classrooms
were on the ground floor, as were also the dining hall and kitchen,
and the head master's private office. On the second floor were the
majority of the dormitories, furnished to hold four, six, and eight
pupils each. The school was surrounded by a wide campus, running
down to the Leming River, where was located a good-sized
boathouse. Some distance away from the river was a neat
gymnasium, and, to the rear of the school, were commodious
stables and sheds. At the four corners of the campus grew great
clumps of giant oaks, and two oaks stood like sentinels on either
side of the gateway—thus giving the Hall its name.
As Dave leaped to the piazza of the school he was met by Sam Day,
another of his old chums, who gave his hand a squeeze that made
him wince. Close by was Chip Macklin, once the toady of Gus Plum,
but now "quite a decent sort," as most of the lads would say. Further
in the rear was Gus Plum, looking pale and troubled. Evidently
something was wrong with him, as Shadow had intimated.
"Sorry I couldn't get down to the depot," said Sam. "But I had some
examples in algebra to do and they kept me until after the carryall
had left."
There was more handshaking, and Dave did not forget Macklin or
Gus Plum. When he took the hand of the former bully he found it icy
cold and he noticed that it trembled considerably.
"How are you, Gus?" he said, pleasantly.
"Oh, I'm fair," was the hesitating answer. "I—I am glad to see you
back, and doubly glad to know you found your father."
"And sister, Gus; don't forget that."
"Yes, and your sister." And then Gus Plum let Dave's hand fall and
stepped back into the crowd and vanished. Dave saw that he had
something on his mind, and he wondered more than ever what
Shadow might have to tell him.
Soon Doctor Clay appeared, a man well along in years, with gray,
penetrating eyes and a face that could be either kindly or stern as
the occasion demanded.
"As the boys say, it is all very wonderful, and I am rejoiced for your
sake, Porter," he said. "Your trip to Norway certainly turned out well,
and you need not begrudge the time lost from school. Now, with
your mind free, you can go at your studies with vigor, and such a
bright pupil as you ought to be able to make up all the ground lost."
"I intend to try my best, sir," answered Dave.
The only lad at Oak Hall who did not seem to enjoy Dave's
reappearance was Nat Poole. The dudish youth from Crumville,
whose father had, in times past, caused old Caspar Potts so much
trouble, kept himself aloof, and when he met Dave in a hallway he
turned his head the other way and pretended not to notice.
"Nat Poole certainly feels sore," said Dave to Ben Basswood, his old
friend from home, when Ben came to meet him, having been kept in
a classroom by Job Haskers.
"Yes, he is sore on everybody," answered Ben. "Well, he is having a
hard time of it, seems to me. First Chip Macklin cut him, and then
Gus Plum. Then he got mixed up with Nick Jasniff, and Jasniff had to
run away. Then he and Link Merwell became chums, and you know
what happened to both. Now Merwell is away and Nat is about left
to himself. He is a bigger dude than ever, and spends a lot of money
that the doctor doesn't know anything about, and yet he can't make
himself popular."
"Well, I'm glad money doesn't count at Oak Hall, Ben."
"I know you feel that way, Dave, and it does you credit. I guess now
you are about as rich as anybody, and if money did the trick——"
"I want to stand on my merits, not on my pocketbook. Perhaps Nat
would make friends if he wasn't forever showing off and telling how
wealthy his father is."
"I believe you there."
"By the way, Ben, do you know anything about Gus Plum? There
seems to be a big change in him."
"There is a change, but I can't tell you what it is. Shadow Hamilton
knows. He and Plum came home late one night, both having been to
Oakdale, and Shadow was greatly excited and greatly worried. Some
of us fellows wanted to know what it was about, but Shadow refused
to say a word, excepting that he was going to let you know some
time, because you appeared to have some influence over Gus."
Ben's words surprised Dave, coming so shortly after what Shadow
himself had said. He was on the point of asking Ben some more
questions, but reconsidered the matter and said nothing. He could
wait until such a time as Shadow felt in the humor to unburden his
mind.
Dave and his chums roomed in dormitories Nos. 11 and 12, two
large and well-lighted apartments, with a connecting door between.
Not far away was dormitory No. 13, which was now occupied by Nat
Poole and some others, including Link Merwell when that individual
was at Oak Hall. One bed was vacant, that which Nick Jasniff had
left so hurriedly.
In a quiet way the news was spread that Dave and his chums had
provided some good things for a feast, and that night about twenty
boys gathered in No. 11 and No. 12 to celebrate "the return of our
leader," as Luke Watson expressed it. Luke was on hand with his
banjo and his guitar, to add a little music if wanted.
"Say, boys, we couldn't have chosen a better time for this sort of
thing than to-night," announced Sam Day. "Haskers has gone to
town and Mr. Dale is paying a visit to a neighbor; I heard the doctor
tell Mr. Dale he was tired and was going to bed early, and best of all
Jim Murphy says he won't hear a thing, provided we set out a big
piece of mince pie for him." Murphy was monitor of the halls.
"Good for Jim!" cried Dave. "I'll cut that piece of pie myself," and he
did, and placed it where he felt certain that the monitor would find
it.
The boys were allowed to do as they pleased until half-past nine,
and they sang songs and cracked jokes innumerable. But then the
monitor stuck his head in at the door.
"Got to be a little quiet from now on," he said, in a hoarse whisper
and with a broad grin on his face. "I'm awfully deaf to-night, but the
doctor will wake up if there's too much racket."
"Did you get the pie?" questioned Dave.
"Not yet, and I'll take it now, if you don't mind."
"Jim, do you mean to say you didn't get that pie?" demanded Dave.
"Oh, he's fooling," interrupted Phil. "He wants a second piece."
"That's it," came from Shadow. "Puts me in mind of a story about a
boy who——"
"Never mind the story now, Shadow," interrupted Dave. "Tell me
honestly, Jim, whether you got the pie or not? Of course you can
have another piece, or some chicken salad——"
"I didn't get any pie,—or anything else," answered the monitor.
"I put it on the bottom of the stand in the upper hallway."
"Nothing there when I went to look."
"Then somebody took it on the sly," said Roger. "For I was with Dave
when he put it there. Anybody in these rooms guilty?" And he gazed
around sternly.
All of the boys shook their heads. Then of a sudden a delicate youth
who looked like a girl arose in astonishment and held up his hands.
"Well, I declare!" he lisped.
"What now, Polly?" asked Phil.
"I wonder if it is really possible," went on Bertram Vane.
"What possible?" questioned Dave.
"Why, when I was coming through the hall a while ago I almost ran
into Nat Poole. He had something in one hand, under his
handkerchief, and as I passed him I really thought I smelt mince
pie!"
"Nat Poole!" cried several.
"Oh, the sneak!" burst out Roger. "He must have been watching
Dave. Maybe he heard us promise Murphy the pie."
"Bad luck to him if he stole what was coming to me," muttered the
monitor. "I hope the pie choked him."
"If Nat Poole took the pie we'll fix him for it," said Dave. "Just you
leave it to me." Then he got another portion of the dainty and
handed it to the monitor, who disappeared immediately.
"What will you do?" questioned Roger.
"Since Nat has had some pie I think I'll treat him to some chicken
salad," was the reply. "Nothing like being generous, you know."
"Why, Dave, you don't mean you are going to let Nat Poole have any
of this nice salad!" cried Phil. "I'd see him in Guinea first!"
"He shall have some—after it has been properly doctored."
"Eh? Oh, I see," and the shipowner's son began to grin. "All right
then. But doctor it good."
"I shall make no mistake about that," returned Dave.
While Shadow was telling a story of a little boy who had fallen down
a well and wanted somebody to "put the staircase down" so he
could climb up, Dave went to a small medicine closet which he had
purchased during his previous term at Oak Hall. From this he got
various bottles and powders and began to "doctor" a nice portion of
the chicken salad.
"Say, Dave, that won't hurt anybody, will it?" asked Ben, who saw
the movement.
"It may hurt Nat Poole, Ben."
"Oh, you don't want to injure him."
"This won't do any harm. I am going to give him what Professor
Potts called green peppers. Once, when he was particularly talkative,
he related how he had played the joke on a fellow-student at
college. It won't injure Nat Poole, but if he eats this salad there will
surely be fun, I can promise you that."
"How are you going to get it to him?"
"Take it to him myself."
"You! He'll be suspicious at once and won't touch it."
"Perhaps not—we'll wait and see."
When the feast was practically at an end, Dave put the doctored
salad in a dessert dish, topping it with some that was sweet and
good. On all he laid some fancy crackers which one of the boys had
contributed.
"Now, here is where I try the trick," he said, and put on a sweater,
leaving the upper portion partly over his face. Then, leaving his
dormitory, he tiptoed his way to No. 13 and pushed open the door
softly.
As he had surmised, Nat Poole had gone to bed and had just fallen
asleep. Going noiselessly to his side, Dave bent over him and
whispered into his ear:
"Here, Nat, is something I stole for you from that crowd that was
having the feast. Eat it up and don't tell the other fellows."
"Eh, what? The feast?" stammered Nat, and took the plate in his
hand. "Who are you?"
"Hush!" whispered Dave, warningly. "Don't wake the others. I stole it
for you. Eat it up. I'll tell you how I did it in the morning. It's a joke
on Dave Porter!" And then Dave glided away from the bed and out
of the room like a ghost, shutting the door noiselessly after him.
Half asleep, Nat Poole was completely bewildered by what he heard.
In the semi-darkness he could not imagine who had brought the
dish full of stuff. But he remembered the words, "eat it up" and
"don't tell the other fellows" and "a joke on Dave Porter." That was
enough for Nat. He sat up, looked at the fancy crackers and the
salad, and smacked his lips.
"Must have been one of our old crowd," he mused. "Maybe Shingle
or Remney. Well, it's a joke on Dave Porter right enough, and better
than taking that pie he left for Murphy." And then he began to
munch the crackers and eat the salad, using a tiny fork Dave had
thoughtfully provided. He liked chicken salad very much, and this
seemed particularly good, although at times it had a bitter flavor for
which he could not account.
Peering through the keyhole of the door, Dave saw his intended
victim make way with the salad. Then he ran back to his dormitory.
"It's all right," he said. "Now all of you undress and go to bed,—and
watch for what comes!"
 CHAPTER V

WHAT HAPPENED TO NAT POOLE

The students of dormitories No. 11 and No. 12 scarcely had time to

get to bed when they heard a noise in the apartment Nat Poole and
some others occupied. First came a subdued groan, followed by
another, and then they heard Nat Poole get up.
"What's the matter?" they heard a student named Belcher ask.
"Why—er—I'm burning up!" gasped Nat Poole. "Let me get a drink
of water!" And he leaped from his bedside to where there was a
stand with a pitcher of ice-water and a glass.
He was so eager to get the water that, in the semi-darkness, he hit
the stand with his arm. Over it went, and the pitcher and glass fell to
the floor with a crash. The noise aroused everybody in the
dormitory.
"What's the matter?"
"Are burglars breaking in?"
"Confound the luck!" muttered Nat Poole. "Oh, I must get some
water! I am burning up alive!"
"What's done it?" questioned Belcher.
"I—er—never mind now. I am burning up and must have some
water!" roared the dudish pupil, and dashed out of the dormitory in
the direction of a water tank located at the end of the hall.
Here he was a little more careful and got the drink he desired. But
scarcely had he taken a mouthful when he ejected it with great
force.
"Wow! how bitter that tastes!" he gasped. Then of a sudden he
commenced to shiver. "Wonder if that salad poisoned me? Who gave
it to me, anyhow?"
He tried the water again, but it was just as bitter as before. Then he
ran to a bathroom, to try the water there. By this time his mouth
and throat felt like fire, and, thoroughly scared, he ran back to his
sleeping apartment and began to yell for help.
His cries aroused a good portion of the inmates of Oak Hall, and
students came from all directions to see what was the matter. They
found poor Nat sitting on a chair, the picture of misery.
"I—I guess I'm poisoned and I'm going to die!" he wailed.
"Somebody better get a doctor."
"What did you eat?" demanded half a dozen boys.
"I—er—I ate some salad a fellow brought to me in the dark. I don't
know who he was. Oh, my throat! It feels as if a red-hot poker was
in it! And I can't drink water either! Oh, I know I am going to die!"
"Try oil—that's good for a burn," suggested one student, and he
brought forth some cod liver oil. Nat hated cod liver oil almost as
much as poison, but he was scared and took the dose without a
murmur. It helped a little, but his throat felt far from comfortable
and soon it commenced to burn as much as ever.
By this time Doctor Clay had been aroused and he came to the
dormitory in a dressing gown and slippers.
"Nat Poole has been poisoned!" cried several.
"Poisoned!" ejaculated the master of the Hall. "How is this, Poole?"
and he strode to the suffering pupil's side.
"I—I don't know," groaned Nat. "I—er—ate some mince pie and
some salad——"
"Perhaps it is only indigestion," was the doctor's comment. "You may
get over it in a little while."
"But my throat——" And then the dudish boy stopped short. The fire
in his mouth and throat had suddenly gone down—like a tooth
stopping its aching.
"What were you going to say?" asked Doctor Clay.
"Why, I—that is—my throat isn't so bad now." And Nat's face took
on a sudden sheepish look. In some way he realized he had been
more scared than hurt.
"Let me have a look at your throat," went on the master of the Hall
and took his pupil to a strong light. "It is a little red, but that is all. Is
your stomach all right?"
"It seems to be—and the pain in my throat and mouth is all gone
now," added Nat.
The doctor handed him a glass of water a boy had brought and Nat
tried it. The liquid tasted natural, much to his surprise, and the drink
made him feel quite like himself once more.
"I—I guess I am all right now," he said after an awkward pause. "I—
er—am sorry I woke you up."
"After this be careful of how much you eat," said the doctor, stiffly.
"If a boy stuffs himself on mince pie and salad he is bound to suffer
for it." Then he directed all the students to go to bed at once, and
retired to his own apartment.
If ever a lad was puzzled that lad was Nat Poole. For the life of him
he could not determine whether he had suffered naturally or
whether a trick had been played on him. He wanted very much to
know who had brought him the salad, but could not find out. For
days after the boys would yell "mince pie" and "salad" at him, much
to his annoyance.
"That certainly was a good one," was Phil's comment. "I reckon Nat
will learn to keep his hands off of things after this." And he and the
others had a good laugh over the trick Dave had played. It proved to
be perfectly harmless, for the next day Poole felt as well as ever.
As Dave had said, he was determined to make up the lessons lost
during his trip to England and Norway, and he consequently applied
himself with vigor to all his studies. At this, Mr. Dale, who was head
teacher, was particularly pleased, and he did all he could to aid the
youth.
As during previous terms, Dave had much trouble with Job Haskers.
A brilliant teacher, Haskers was as arbitrary and dictatorial as could
be imagined, and he occasionally said things which were so sarcastic
they cut to the quick. Very few of the boys liked him, and some
positively hated him.
"I always feel like fighting when I run up against old Haskers," was
the way Roger expressed himself. "I'd give ten dollars if he'd pack
his trunk and leave."
"And then come back the next day," put in Phil, with a grin.
"Not much! When he leaves I want him to stay away!"
"That puts me in mind of a story," said Shadow, who was present.
"What, another!" cried Dave, with a mock groan. "Oh, but this is
dreadful!"
"Not so bad—as you'll soon see. A boy had a little dog, who could
howl morning, noon, and night, to beat the band. Next door to the
boy lived a very nervous man. Said he to the boy one day: 'Will you
sell me that dog for a dollar?' 'Make it two dollars and the dog is
yours,' answered the boy. So the man, to get rid of that howling
dog, paid the boy the two dollars and shipped the dog to the pound.
Then he asked the boy: 'What are you going to do with the two
dollars?' 'Buy two more dogs,' said the boy. Then the man went
away and wept."
"That's all right!" cried Sam Day, and everybody laughed. Then he
added: "What can disturb a fellow more than a howling dog at
night?"
"I know," answered Dave, quietly.
"What?"
"Two dogs," and then Dave ducked to avoid a book that Sam threw
at him.
"Speaking of dogs reminds me of something," said Buster Beggs.
"You all remember Mike Marcy, the miserly old farmer whose mule
we returned some time ago."
"I am not likely to forget him," answered Dave, who had had more
than one encounter with the fellow, as my old readers are aware.
"Well, he has got a very savage dog and has posted signs all over
his place, 'Beware of the Dog!' Two or three of the fellows, who
were crossing his corner lot one day, came near being bitten."
"Were you one of them?" asked Roger.
"Yes, and we weren't doing anything either—only crossing the
vacant lot to take a short-cut to the school, to avoid being late."
"I was in the crowd," said Luke Watson, "and I had a good mind to
kill the dog."
"We'll have to go over some day and see Marcy," said Phil. "I haven't
forgotten how he accused me of stealing his apples."
"He once accused me of stealing a chicken," put in a boy named
Messmer. "I'd like to take him down a peg or two for that."
"Let us go over to his place next week some time and tease him,"
suggested another boy named Henshaw, and some of the others
said they would bear his words in mind.
Messmer and Henshaw were the owners of an ice-boat named the
Snowbird. They had built the craft themselves, and, while it was not
very handsome, it had good going qualities, and that was all the
boys wanted.
"Come on out in the Snowbird," said Henshaw, to Dave and several
of the others, on the following Saturday afternoon, when there was
no school. "The ice on the river is very good, and the wind is just
right for a spin."
"Thanks, I'll go with pleasure," answered Dave; and soon the party
was off. The river, frozen over from end to end, was alive with
skaters and ice-boats, and presented a scene of light-heartedness
and pleasure.
"There goes an ice-boat from the Rockville military academy," said
Messmer, presently. "I guess they don't want to race. They haven't
forgotten how we beat them." And he was right; the Rockville ice-
boat soon tacked to the other side of the river, the cadets on board
paying no attention to the Oak Hall students.
The boys on the ice-boat did not go to their favorite spot, Robber
Island, but allowed the Snowbird to sweep up an arm of the river,
between several large hills. The hills were covered with hemlocks
and cedars, between which the snow lay to a depth of one or two
feet.
"Do you know what I'd like to do some day?" remarked Roger.
"Come up here after rabbits." He had a shotgun, of which he was
quite proud.
"I believe you'd find plenty," answered Dave. "I'd like to go myself. I
used to hunt, when I was on the farm."
"Let us walk up the hills and take a look around—now we are here,"
continued the senator's son. "If we see any rabbits' tracks we'll know
they are on hand."
Dave agreed, and he, Roger, and Phil left the ice-boat, stating they
would be back in half an hour.
"All right!" sang out Messmer. "We'll cruise around in the meantime.
When we get back we'll whistle for you."
The tramp through the deep snow was not easy, yet the three
chums enjoyed it, for it made them feel good to be out in the clear,
cold atmosphere, every breath of which was invigorating. They went
on silently, so as not to disturb any game that might be near.
"Here are rabbit tracks!" said Dave, in a low tone, after the top of
the first hill was gained, and he pointed to the prints, running
around the trees and bushes. "Shooting ought certainly to be good
in this neighborhood."
From one hill they tramped to another, the base of which came
down to the river at a point where there was a deep spot known as
Lagger's Hole. Here the ice was usually full of air-holes and unsafe,
and skaters and ice-boats avoided the locality.
From the top of the hill the boys commenced to throw snowballs
down on the ice, seeing who could throw the farthest. Then Phil
suggested they make a big snowball and roll it down.
"I'll bet, if it reaches the ice, it will go clear across the river," said the
shipowner's son.
"All right, let's try it," answered Dave and Roger, and the three set to
work to make a round, hard ball. They rolled it around the top of the
hill until it was all of three feet in diameter and then pushed it to the
edge.
"Now then, send her down!" cried Phil, and the three boys gave a
push that took the big snowball over the edge of the hill. Slowly at
first and then faster and faster, it rolled down the hill, increasing in
size as it progressed.
"It's getting there!" sang out Roger. "See how it is shooting along!"
"Look!" yelled Dave, pointing up the river. "An ice-boat is coming!"
All looked and saw that he was right. It was a craft from the
Rockville academy, and it was headed straight for the spot where the
big snowball was about to cross.
"If the snowball hits them, there will be a smash-up!" cried Roger.
"And that is just what is going to happen, I fear," answered Dave.
 CHAPTER VI

WHAT A BIG SNOWBALL DID

As the ice-boat came closer the boys on the hill saw that it contained
four persons, two cadets and two young ladies. The latter were
evidently guests, for they sat in the stern and took no part in
handling the craft.
Dave set up a loud cry of warning and his chums joined in. But if
those on the ice-boat heard, they paid no heed. On and on they
came, heading for the very spot for which the great snowball, now
all of six feet in diameter, was shooting.
"The ice is full of holes, maybe the snowball will drop into one of
them," said Phil. But this was not to be. The snowball kept straight
on, until it and the ice-boat were less than a hundred feet apart.
It was then that one of the cadets on the craft saw the peril and
uttered a cry of alarm. He tried to bring the ice-boat around, and his
fellow-student aided him. But it was too late, and in a few seconds
more the big snowball hit the craft, bowled it over, and sent it
spinning along the ice toward some of the largest of the air-holes.
"They are going into the water!" gasped Roger.
"Come on—let us see if we can help them!" returned Dave, and
plunged down the hill. He took the course the big snowball had
taken, and his chums came after him. More than once they fell, but
picked themselves up quickly and kept on until the ice was gained.
At the edge they came to a halt, for the air-holes told them plainly of
the danger ahead.
"There they go—into the water!" cried Dave, and waiting no longer,
he ran out on the ice, picking his way between the air-holes as best
he could. Several times the ice cracked beneath his weight, but he
did not turn back. He felt that the occupants of the ice-boat were in
peril of their lives and that in a measure he was responsible for this
crisis.
The river at this point was all of a hundred yards wide and the
accident had occurred close to the farther side. The ice-boat had
been sent to where two air-holes were close together, and the
weight of the craft and its occupants had caused it to crack the ice,
and it now rested half in and half out of the water. One of the cadets
and one of the young ladies had been flung off to a safe place, but
the other pair were clinging desperately to the framework.
"Oh, we shall be drowned! We shall be drowned!" cried the maiden
in distress.
"Can't you jump off?" asked the cadet who was safe on the ice.
"I—I am afraid!" wailed the girl. "Oh, the ice is sinking!" she added,
as an ominous sound reached her ears.
To the credit of the cadet on the ice-boat, he remained the cooler of
the two, and he called to his fellow-student to run for a fence-rail
which might be used to rescue the girl and himself. But the nearest
fence was a long way off, and time, just then, was precious.
"Cut a couple of ropes!" sang out Dave, as he dashed up. "Cut one
and throw it over here!"
The cadet left on the overturned craft understood the suggestion,
and taking out his pocketknife, he cut two of the ropes. He tied one
fast to the other and sent an end spinning out toward Dave and the
cadet on the ice. The other end of the united ropes remained fast to
the ice-boat.
By this time Phil and Roger had come up, and all the lads on the firm
ice took hold of the rope and pulled with all their might. Dave
directed the operation, and slowly the ice-boat came up from the
hole into which it had partly sunk and slid over toward the shore.
"Hurrah! we've got her!" cried Phil.
"Vera, are you hurt?" asked the girl on the ice, anxiously.
"Not at all, Mary; only one foot is wet," answered the girl who had
been rescued.
"Oh, I'm so glad!" And then the two girls embraced in the joy of
their escape.
"I'd like to know where that big snowball came from," growled the
cadet who had been flung off the ice-boat when the shock came. He
looked at Dave and his companions. "Did you start that thing?"
"We did," answered Dave, "but we didn't know you were coming."
"It was a mighty careless thing to do," put in the cadet who had
been rescued. "We might have been drowned!"
"I believe they did it on purpose," said the other cadet. He looked at
the letters on a sweater Roger wore. "You're from Oak Hall, aren't
you?"
"Yes."
"Thought you'd have some sport, eh?" This was said with a sneer.
"Say, Cabot, we ought to give 'em something for this," he added,
turning to his fellow-cadet.
"So we should," growled Cabot, who chanced to be the owner of the
craft that had been damaged. "They have got to pay for breaking
the ice-boat, anyway."
"Oh, Mr. Anderson, please don't get into a quarrel!" pleaded one of
the girls.
"Well, those rowdies deserve a thrashing," answered Anderson. He
was a big fellow, with rather a hard look on his face.
"Thank you, but we are not rowdies," retorted Roger. "We were
having a little fun and did not dream of striking you with the
snowball."
"If you know anything about the river, you know ice-boats and
skaters rarely if ever come this way," added Phil. "The ice around
here is always full of air-holes and consequently dangerous."
"Oh, you haven't got to teach me where to go," growled Anderson.
"I'm only stating a fact."
"The ice is certainly not very nice around here," said one of the girls.
"Perhaps we might have gotten into a hole even if the big snowball
hadn't struck us."
At this remark Dave and his chums gave the girl a grateful look. The
cadets were annoyed, and one whispered something to the other.
"You fellows get to work and fix the ice-boat," said Cabot.
"And do it quick, too," added Anderson.
"I—I think I'll walk the rest of the way home," said one of the girls.
"Will you come along, Vera?"
"Yes," answered the other. She stepped up to Dave's side. "Thank
you for telling Mr. Cabot what to do, and for pulling us out of the
hole," she went on, and gave the boys a warm smile.
"Going to leave us?" growled Anderson.
"Yes."
"That ain't fair. You promised——"
"To take a ride on the ice-boat," finished the girl named Vera. "We
did it, and now I am going home."
"And so am I," added the other girl. "Good-bye."
"But see here——" went on Anderson, and caught the girl named
Vera by the arm.
"Please let go, Mr. Anderson."
"I want——"
"Let the young lady go if she wishes to," said Dave, stepping up.
"This isn't your affair," blustered Anderson.
"No gentleman would detain a lady against her will."
"Good-bye," said the girl, and stepped back several paces when
released by the cadet.
"All right, Vera Rockwell, I'll not take you out again," growled
Anderson, seeing she was bound to go.
"You'll not have the chance, thank you!" flung back the girl, and then
she joined her companion, and both hurried away from the shore
and to a road running near by.
After the girls had gone there was an awkward silence. Both Cabot
and Anderson felt sore to be treated in this fashion, and especially in
the presence of those from Oak Hall, a rival institution to that where
they belonged.
"Well, what are you going to do about the damage done?" grumbled
Anderson.
"I don't think the ice-boat is damaged much," answered Dave. "Let
us look her over and see."
"If she is, you'll pay the bill," came from Cabot.
"Well, we can do that easily enough," answered Roger lightly.
The craft was righted and inspected. The damage proved to be
trifling and the ice-boat was speedily made fit for use.
"If I find she isn't all right, I'll make some of you foot the bill," said
Cabot.
"I am willing to pay for all damage done," answered Dave. "My
name is Dave Porter."
"Oh! I've heard of you," said Anderson. "You're on the Oak Hall
football team."
"Yes, and I've had the pleasure of helping to beat Rockville,"
answered Dave, and could not help grinning.
"Humph! Wait till next season! We'll show you a thing or two,"
growled Anderson, and then he and Cabot boarded the ice-boat,
trimmed the sail, and stood off down the river.
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