SCHOOL ***




Produced by Al Haines.


                              BOBBY BLAKE

                          at Rockledge School


                                  _By_
                            FRANK A. WARNER

                              _Author of_
                       "BOBBY BLAKE AT BASS COVE"
                    "BOBBY BLAKE ON A CRUISE," Etc.



                         WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO.
                           RACINE, WISCONSIN




                          Copyright, MCMXV, by
                              BARSE & CO.



                Printed in the United States of America




                                CONTENTS

CHAPTER

      I. "The Overland Limited"
     II. Apples and Applethwaite Plunkit
    III. Fred in Trouble
     IV. An Eventful Afternoon
      V. The Tale of a Scarecrow
     VI. A Fish Fry and a Startling Announcement
    VII. Financial Affairs
   VIII. The Peep-Show
     IX. Off for Rockledge
      X. New Surroundings
     XI. Getting Acquainted
    XII. In the Dormitory
   XIII. The Poguey Fight
    XIV. The Honor Medal
     XV. Getting Into Step
    XVI. Hot Potatoes
   XVII. Lost at Sea
  XVIII. The Bloody Corner
    XIX. The Result
     XX. On the Brink of War
    XXI. Give and Take
   XXII. What Bobby Said
  XXIII. Good News Travels Slowly
   XXIV. Red Hair Stands for More Than Temper
    XXV. The Winner




                    BOBBY BLAKE AT ROCKLEDGE SCHOOL



                               CHAPTER I

                         "THE OVERLAND LIMITED"


A boy of about ten, with a freckled face and fiery red hair cropped
close to his head, came doubtfully up the side porch steps of the Blake
house in Clinton and peered through the screen door at Meena, the
Swedish girl.

Meena was tall and rawboned, with very red elbows usually well
displayed, and her straw- hair was bound in a tight "pug" on top
of her long, narrow head.  Meena had sharp blue eyes and she could see
boys a great way off.

"Mis' Blake--she ban gone out," said Meena, before the red-haired boy
could speak.  "You vant somet'ing?  No?"

"I--I was looking for Bobby," said the visitor, stammeringly.  He and
Mrs. Blake's Swedish girl were not on good terms.

"I guess he ban gone out, too," said Meena, who did not want to be
"bothered mit boys."

The boy looked as though he thought she was a bad guesser!  Somewhere
inside the house he heard a muffled voice.  It shouted:

"Whoo! whoo! whoo-whoo-who-o-o-o!"

The imitation of a steam whistle grew rapidly nearer.  It seemed to be
descending from the roof of the house--and descending very swiftly.
Finally there came a decided bang--the landing of a pair of well-shod
feet on the rug--and the voice rang out:

"All out!  All out for last stop!  All out!"

"_That's_ Bobby," suggested the boy with the red hair, looking wistfully
into Meena's kitchen.

"Vell!" ejaculated the girl.  "You go in by the dining-room door, I
guess.  You not go to trapse through my clean kitchen.  Vipe your feet,
boy!"

The boy did as he was bade, and opened the dining-room door.  A steady
footstep was thumping overhead, rising into the upper regions of the
three-story house.

The red-haired youngster knew his way about this house just as well as
he knew his own.  Only he tripped over a corner of the dining-room rug
and bumped into two chairs in the darkened living-room before he reached
the front hall.

This was wide and was lighted above by ground-glass oval windows on all
three flights of stairs. The mahogany balustrade was in a single smooth
spiral, broken by no ornament.  It offered a tempting course from garret
to ground floor to any venturesome small boy.

"All aboard!" shouted the voice overhead.

"The Overland Limited," said the red-haired boy, grinning, and squinting
up the well.

"Ding-dong! ding-dong!  All aboard for the Overland Limited!  This way!
No stop between Denver and Chicago!  All aboard!"

There was a scramble above and then the exhaust of the locomotive was
imitated in a thin, boyish treble:

"Sh-h! sh-h! sh-h!  Choo! choo! choo! Ding-dong-ding!  We're off--"

A figure a-straddle the broad banister-rail shot into view on the upper
flight.  The momentum carried the boy around the first curve and to the
brink of the second pitch.  Down that he sped like an arrow, and so
around to the last slant of the balustrade.

"Next stop, Chi-ca-_go_!" yelled the boy on the rail.  "All o-o-out! all
out for Chicago!"

And then, bang! he landed upon the hall rug.

"How'd you know the board wasn't set against you, Bobby?" demanded the
red-haired one. "You might have had a wreck."

"Hello, Fred Martin.  If I'd looked around and seen your red head, I'd
sure thought they'd flashed a danger signal on me--though the Overland
Limited is supposed to have a clear track, you know."

Fred jumped on him for that and the two chums had a wrestling match on
the hall rug.  It was, however, a good-natured bout, and soon they sat
side by side on the lower step of the first flight, panting, and grinned
at each other.

Bobby's hair was black, and he wore it much longer than Fred.  To tell
the truth, Fred had the "Riley cut," as the boys called it, so that his
hair would not attract so much attention.

Fred had all the temper that is supposed to go with red hair.  Perhaps
red-haired people only seem more quick tempered because everybody "picks
on them" so!  Bobby was quite as boisterous as his chum, but he was more
cautious and had some control over his emotions.  Nobody ever called
Bobby