# Dave Porter at Oak Hall/Chapter 10

CHAPTER X
THE BULLY OF OAK HALL
It was after dark when Oakdale was reached, a pretty village containing six or seven hundred inhabitants, and located on a stream of water which we shall call the Leming River. The railroad station was new, and back of it was the main street, containing more than a block of stores and a number of fine dwellings. On the cross streets were other houses and also several churches, and the village also boasted of a small park, where the Oakdale Brass Band occasionally gave concerts during the summer.
Around the railroad station all was activity when the train came in. The Oak Hall stage was on hand, to take the boys to the academy, and also a wagon for their trunks and dress-suit cases.
"Hullo, Horsehair!" called out Roger, to the driver of the stage. "How are we to-morrow, as the clown says in the circus?"
"Pretty well, thank you," replied Jackson Lemond, with a good-natured grin. He was invariably called Horsehair because of the hairs which always clung to his clothing.
​"And how is everybody at the Hall?" put in Phil Lawrence.
"Very well, sir."
"Many here yet?"
"About half the students, sir."
"This seems a little like old times," came from Buster Beggs, as he climbed up beside the driver. "Horsehair, do you remember when you drove me to the station last?"
"Remember? I shan't never forget it. Master Beggs," came from the stage driver. "But don't you try no tricks on this team, or we'll have trouble. That off horse ain't as gentle as he might be."
"In you go, Dave!" cried Roger. "Don't wait to be invited or you'll get left. Horsehair, this is a new student, Mr. Dave Porter. Dave, this is Mr. Horsehair Jackson Sampson Washington Lincoln Lemond, stage driver, actor, acrobat, and elocutionist."
"If he isn't on one stage he's on another," put in Phil Lawrence.
"Now, come——" began the stage driver, pleadingly.
"Isn't it true, Horsehair? Didn't you act, not once but half a dozen times? He was the cow in 'Back to the Farm,' the butler in 'The Millionaire's Secret,' and a real Roman soldier in the Boston revival of 'Julius Cæsar.'"
​"Why didn't you stick to the stage?" asked Dave.
"He wasn't appreciated, that's why," answered Sam Day. "But some day you want to hear him recite, it's simply great."
"His address to the Romans will make you weep gallons of tears," came from Roger, with a wink.
"Speaking of gallons of tears puts me in mind of a story my uncle used to tell," came from Shadow Hamilton. "He had an old man working——"
"Save it, Shadow," came from one of the others. "We've had enough stories for one day."
"I haven't told more than——"
"Twenty-one," finished Phil Lawrence. "I've kept tab. Shadow, you ought to write for the comic papers, you'd make your fortune."
"Let's give 'em a song, boys!" cried Sam Day, and immediately started up, with words that were popular at Oak Hall.
"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!"
This was sung to the tune of "Auld Lang Syne," and at the end of the verse was added the academy cry:
Baseball!  Football!  Oak Hall!  Has the call! Biff! Boom! Bang! Whoop!
"That is something like!" cried Roger, during the singing. "We'll let folks in this neighborhood know that we have arrived."
"Farmer Brown will be glad to know it,—I don't think," came from Buster Beggs.
"Oh, he'll love it!" answered Roger, and then he turned to Dave. "Buster and a lot of the others once took Farmer Brown's calf and hoisted it to the roof of the gymnasium building. They tied the calf to the center of the roof, so you couldn't see the animal from the playground. The calf bawled ferociously, and it was a long time before the teachers and the hired men could find out where the sounds came from."
"What did the farmer do?"
"He threatened to have somebody locked up, but nothing came of it. But he says he has a gun now, and if any boys come to his farm again he'll fill 'em full of shot."
"Well, you can't blame him much," answered Dave, with a smile. "I'd hate to have a calf of mine put up on a roof."
"Yes, but just the same, Dave, Brown missed it by raising such a row. We used to go over on ​the sly, and buy milk and fruit, and such things. Now those sales are all lost to him."
The stage was rattling on at a lively rate. Occasionally it would pass other turnouts, and then the boys would give wild cheers and cat-calls, and would now and then get a cheer in return.
"There is the river," said Roger, presently. "It makes a turn here, under yonder oaks and willows, and then passes behind the Hall. You can't see much in the dark. I wish it was lighter. The first view of the academy from this road is an imposing one. For myself, I think Oak Hall is one of the prettiest school buildings I have ever seen."
In a few minutes the stage turned a corner, and they came to a broad campus, lined on either side with a low hedge of boxwood. At each corner of this campus was a heavy clump of giant oaks, and there were two great oaks on either side of the broad gateway. Close at hand hung a big lamp, and other lamps lined the driveway leading to the school building.
Oak Hall was a modern structure, of brick and stone, built in the shape of a broad cross. The hallways ran directly through the building, from north to south and east to west. The structure fronted south, and the classrooms were on that side and also on the east and west. On the north were the dining hall and the kitchen and also ​quarters for the hired help. Above the classrooms were the dormitories, divided into quarters for four, six, or eight students. On the lower floor were also a reception room and several offices, and above them the sleeping rooms of the owner of the school and his various assistants. The entire school was finished in hardwood, well polished, and everything was scrupulously clean.
"Here we are!" cried Roger, as he leaped out of the stage. "Come on, Dave. There is Dr. Clay now."
Dave followed his companion, and the other boys also sprang out. Nearly every one rushed up to the doctor to shake hands.
Doctor Hasmer Clay proved to be a man well along in years, with iron-gray hair and sharp gray eyes. His face was kindly, but stern, and it was easy to see that he was not one to permit any nonsense during study hours. Yet he was a man who wanted his pupils to have recreation, and he often went out to view their games and their exercises in the gymnasium, or for a quiet sail on the river. It was rumored that in his day he had been a great football player, and this he did not deny.
"How do you do, Doctor?" said Roger, grasping the hand extended to him.
"Very well, thank you, Master Morr," was the answer. "Welcome back to Oak Hall. And whom have we here?"
​"This is David Porter, from Crumville."
"Ah, yes!" Dr. Clay took Dave's hand and gave it a hearty shake. "I am glad to know you, Master Porter. I presume that accident on the railroad delayed you, as it delayed many of the others."
"Yes, sir," answered Dave. "That and something else."
"He helped to recover some things stolen from our house," put in Roger. "I'll have to tell you all about it some other time, Doctor. But what I want to know now is, can't he take one of the spare beds in our dormitory?"
"You are in No. 12, are you not?"
"Yes, sir."
"I was going to put him in that room."
"Good!"
"As you seem to be so well acquainted, perhaps you will show Master Porter the way," went on Dr. Clay. "His trunk is already in the dormitory. Have you had supper? If not, you may get what you wish by going down into the dining hall."
"Thank you, I've had all I want," said Dave.
"So have I," added Roger. "Come on," and they entered the building, leaving the doctor to greet some other arrivals.
"His putting you in our dormitory is a good thing for you," whispered Roger, as he led the way ​up the broad staircase. "All the fellows in that room are in the same class."
"Then you think he expects to put me in your class?"
"More than likely. Your people wrote to him about what you knew, didn't they?"
"Yes, my teacher wrote about it."
"Then I imagine it's as good as settled."
They were just making a turn in the upper hall when a big boy, coming around another corner in a hurry, bumped into Dave.
"Hi, look where you are walking!" cried the big fellow, with an angry look at Dave.
"You'd better look yourself!" was Dave's quick retort, for he did not fancy the manner in which he had been addressed.
"What's that?" demanded the big fellow, stopping short and gazing at Dave in amazement.
"I said you had better look out yourself!" repeated Dave. "You ran into me, I didn't run into you."
"Well, you are cheeky! Who are you, anyway?"
"I am Dave Porter. Who are you?"
"You must be a new student."
"I am."
"Well, you look out the next time. If you don't, there will be trouble."
​"You haven't told me who you are yet," went on Dave, calmly.
"I am Gus Plum."
"Oh!"
"Maybe you have heard of me," went on Gus Plum, quickly.
"I have heard of you. You're a good deal of a bully, so they say."
"Humph!"
"I presume that is why you just tried to bully me," continued Dave. "Let me tell you that I won't stand for it."
"Why, you——" began Gus Plum, in a rage, but at that moment a teacher appeared in the hallway, and he stopped short. "I'll see you another time, Dave Porter," he whispered, and then hurried off down the stairs.