Edward Stratemeyer - Dave Porter on Cave Island - or, A Schoolboy's Mysterious Mission

“Dave Porter on Cave Island” is a complete story in itself but forms the eighth volume in a line issued under the general title of “Dave Porter Series.”

The opening tale of this series, called “Dave Porter at Oak Hall,” related the adventures of a wide-awake lad at a typical boarding school of to-day. This was followed by “Dave Porter in the South Seas,” whither our hero had gone to find his father, and then by “Dave Porter’s Return to School.”

From Oak Hall, Dave journeyed to Norway, as related in “Dave Porter in the Far North.” On his return to this country he once more attended school, as told of in “Dave Porter and His Classmates.” Dave made a host of friends and likewise a few enemies, and some of the latter plotted to do him much harm.

When vacation came once more, Dave received an invitation to visit a home in the far west, and what he did on that trip has been set forth in “Dave Porter at Star Ranch.” Then, when vacation days were at an end, he came back to Oak Hall, as related in the seventh volume of this series, entitled, “Dave Porter and His Rivals.”

In the present book we find Dave again at school. But the Christmas holidays are at hand and the lad returns home. Here a most mysterious and unlooked-for happening occurs, and Dave’s great benefactor, Mr. Wadsworth, is on the verge of ruin because of it. Dave gets a clew to the mystery, and, with his chums, resolves to investigate. He takes a long journey and has a number of stirring adventures, the particulars of which are given in the pages that follow.

When I started this line of books I trusted that Dave might please the boys, but I did not imagine that so many thousands of boys and girls all over the land would clamor as they have for more concerning the doings of my hero. I thank all for their appreciation of my efforts to please them, and I sincerely trust that the reading of this new volume will be a benefit to them.

“Come on, fellows, if you are going! It’s a good six-mile skate to Squirrel Island, and we’ve got to hustle if we want to get there in time for lunch.”

“Wait till I fix my right skate, Dave,” returned Phil Lawrence. “I don’t want to lose it on the way.”

“Say, that puts me in mind of a story,” came from another of the group of schoolboys who were adjusting their skates. “Once a man asked for a pair of skates for – ”

“Stow it, Shadow!” interrupted Dave Porter. “We haven’t any time now to listen to stories. You can tell them while we are resting up at the island.”

“Shadow can tell stories while we put away the lunch,” observed Roger Morr, with a grin.

“Not much!” cried the lad mentioned. “I guess that skate will make me as hungry as anybody – and the stories will keep.”

“I thought Ben Basswood was going, too?” came from another of the schoolboys.

“Here he comes, Lazy,” answered Dave, and as he spoke he pointed to a path across the snow-covered campus, along which another boy was hurrying, skates in hand.

“Co-couldn’t get here an-any so-sooner!” panted Ben, as he dropped on a bench to adjust his skates. “Old Haskers made me do some extra work in Latin! Wow, but don’t I love that man!”

“We all do,” answered Phil. “We are going to get up a testimonial to him. A silver-mounted – ”

“Slice of punk, with an ancient lemon on top,” finished Dave. “It’s just what he’s been waiting for.” And at this sally there was a general laugh.

“Well, I’m ready,” went on Phil, as he arose from the bench. “Say, but isn’t it just a glorious day for the outing?” he added, casting his eyes around and drawing in a deep breath of the pure, cold air.

“It couldn’t be better, Phil,” answered Dave. “And we ought to have a fine time at the island, bringing down rabbits and squirrels. Old Jerry Lusk told me that hunting was never better.”

“What’s the matter with having some of the rabbits and squirrels for lunch?” asked Sam Day.

“Perhaps we can cook them, Sam,” returned Dave. “But we had better depend on the lunch hamper for something to eat. By the way, we’ll have to take turns carrying the hamper. It is rather heavy.”

“Chip Macklin and I are going to carry it first,” said a tall, strong youth named Gus Plum. “It’s not so very heavy, although it is filled with good things.”

“Don’t lose it, on your life!” cried Phil.

“Lose it!” echoed Roger Morr. “Banish the thought! We’ll form a guard around Gus and Chip, so they can’t get away with it on the sly.”

“Not so much as a doughnut must be eaten until we reach the island and start a campfire,” said Dave. “Those are orders from headquarters,” he added, with a grand flourish.

“Orders accepted, admiral!” cried Gus, and made a bow so profound that his skates went from under him, sending him to his knees. This caused a wild laugh, and the powerfully-built youth got up in a hurry, looking rather sheepish.

“I’m ready now,” said Ben, as he left the bench and settled his skating cap on his head. “Come on, let’s get away before old Haskers calls us back for something or other. He just loves to spoil a fellow’s outing.”

“There he is at one of the windows!” cried Roger, pointing back to the school building. “I really believe he is beckoning to us!”

“Don’t look,” cautioned Dave. “He’ll want us to go back, to put away some books, or clean our desks, or something. Doctor Clay said we could take this outing, and I’m not going to let any teacher spoil it. Forward!” and away from the shore he skated, with his chums around him. They had scarcely covered a distance of a dozen yards when a window was thrown up hastily, and Job Haskers thrust his head through the opening.

“Boys! boys!” called out the Oak Hall teacher. “Wait a minute! I want to know where you are going, and if all of you have finished studying.”

“Don’t look back, and don’t answer!” said Roger, in a hoarse whisper.

“Give the school yell!” suggested Phil.

“Just the thing!” returned Sam Day. “Now then, all together!” And an instant later through the clear, wintry air, rang the well-known Oak Hall slogan:

Three times the boys gave the cry, and by that time they had skated far up the river and out of sight of the window at which the teacher was standing. Job Haskers looked after them glumly, and then closed the window with a bang.

“They must have heard me – I don’t see how they could help it,” he muttered to himself. “Such disrespect! I’ll make them toe the mark for it when they get back! Bah! Doctor Clay is altogether too easy with the boys. If I were running this school I’d make them mind!” And the teacher shut his teeth grimly. He was a man who thought that the boys ought to spend all their time in studying. The hours devoted to outdoor exercise he considered practically wasted. He was too short-sighted to realize that, in order to have a perfectly sound mind, one must likewise have a sound body.

“He’ll have it in for us when we get back,” murmured Chip Macklin. “My! how he does love to stop a fellow’s fun!”

“Don’t worry,” chimed in Roger. “Sufficient unto the hour is the lecture thereof. Let us enjoy this outing while it lasts, and let come what will when we get back.”

“Which puts me in mind of another story,” broke in Shadow Hamilton. “A fellow used to eat too much, and he had to take his medicine regularly, to keep from getting indigestion. So once – wow!” And Shadow broke off short, for Phil had suddenly put out his foot, sending the story-teller of Oak Hall sprawling.