CHAPTER VII
GETTING BACK AT "PITCHFORK"
The three chums were not very jolly as they began their return toRandall college, whither the baseball team had preceded them some timebefore. Sid, Phil and Tom had sent their suits back with some of theirfriends while they attended the little tea given by Ruth Clinton--thetea which had had such an unfortunate ending.
Tom and Phil conversed in low tones about the team and the showing madethat day in the first formal game of the season, but as for Sid, he keptto himself in one corner of the electric car, and there was a moody lookon his face.
"He's taking it hard," observed Phil in a low voice.
Tom shook his head. "I can't understand it," he said.
Sid stalked into the room ahead of his chums and threw himself down onthe old sofa, which creaked and groaned with his weight.
"Easy, old man," called Phil good naturedly. "We've had that in thefamily for three terms, now, and it's a regular heirloom. Don't smash itfor us. Remember what a time we had last term, patching it up, andmoving it here from our old room?"
"Yes, and how Langridge was upset trying to get down stairs past us,"added Tom. "Have a little regard for the sofa, Sid."
"Oh, hang the sofa!" burst out the lad, and then Tom and Phil knew itwas useless to talk to him. Phil crossed the room softly and satcautiously down in the old armchair. Tom looked at the alarm clock, andexclaimed:
"Jove! If it hasn't stopped! Must be something wrong," and he hurriedlywound it, and then started it by the gentle process of pounding it onthe edge of the table. Soon the fussy clicking was again heard. "It'sall right," went on the pitcher, in relieved tones. "Gave me heartdisease at first. The clock is as much of a relic as the chair and sofa.But I've got to mend my glove again. It's ripped in the same place.Rotten athletic goods they're selling nowadays."
There came a knock on the door, and Wallops, the messenger, who stoodrevealed as the portal was opened, announced:
"Mr. Zane would like to see you, Mr. Henderson."
"MR. ZANE WOULD LIKE TO SEE YOU, MR. HENDERSON."]
"Me?" inquired Sid.
"Yep," was the sententious answer.
Saying nothing further, the second baseman got up, and, as the messengerwent down the hall, he followed slowly.
"He's in for it, I'm afraid," remarked Tom dubiously.
"Looks so," agreed Phil. "It's about that item in the paper, of course.Too bad it leaked out."
But what took place at the interview with the proctor, Sid's chums didnot learn until long afterward. All that became known was that Dr.Churchill was summoned, and that Sid was in the proctor's study a longtime. He returned to his room a trifle pale, and with unnaturally brighteyes. Throwing himself on the creaking sofa he stared at the ceilingmoodily, while Phil and Tom maintained a discrete silence.
"Why don't some of you fellows say something?" burst out Sid finally."Think this is a funeral?"
"We didn't think you wanted to have a talk-fest," observed Tom.
"What in blazes am I to do?" asked Sid desperately.
"What about?" inquired Phil.
"You know--Miss Harrison. I don't want to have her think I'm a gambler.I'm not--I----"
"Then why don't you tell her why you were in Dartwell the night of theraid?" suggested the captain.
"I--I can't," burst out Sid. "It's impossible!"
Tom shrugged his shoulders.
"Oh, I know what you mean!" burst out Sid. "It looks as if I wasn'ttelling the truth. But I am--you'll believe me--some day."
"Forget it," advised Phil. "Let's talk about baseball. Have you seen theloving cup trophy?"
"It's a beaut!" declared Tom. "I saw it in the doctor's study. We'regoing to win it, too!"
"Hope so," murmured Phil. "If we have a few more games like to-day, wemay. But speaking of games----"
He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Sid started and leaped upfrom the sofa.
"I'll go," he exclaimed. "If it's a message----"
He did not finish, but Tom and Phil looked significantly at each other.Clearly Sid expected another mysterious summons. But, as he opened theportal there stood the Jersey twins.
"Hello, fellows," began Joe, "do you want to see some sport?"
"Fine sport," added Jerry, who sometimes echoed his brother, a trickthat was interchangeable with the twins.
"We're always ready for sport," replied Tom. "What is it: baiting aprofessor, or hazing some freshies?"
"Professor," replied Joe.
"Pitchfork," echoed Jerry, that name, as I have explained, being appliedto Professor Emerson Tines.
"What's up now?" asked Phil.
"Oh, he's been particularly obnoxious of late," went on Joe. "Some of ushad a little smoker the other night, strictly sub-rosa, you understand,but he smelled us out, and now some of us are doing time for it. To-dayBricktop Molloy evolved a little scheme, and we thought we'd let youfellows in on it. Want to come, Sid?" for Sid had gone back to the sofa.
"No, I guess not," he answered listlessly.
"What's the matter--sick?" inquired Joe, in a whisper of Tom and Phil.They shook their heads, and motioned to the twins not to make furtherinquiries.
"What's the game?" asked Tom. "We'll come."
"We're going to get back at Pitchfork," went on Jerry. "Come along andyou'll see. I'll just explain, though, that he has quietly been 'tippedoff' to the effect that another smoker is in progress, and if he does aswe expect him to, he'll try to raid the room."
"And if he does?"
"Well, he won't find what he expects to. Come on, and keep quiet. What'sthe matter with Sid, anyhow?" for by this time the four were out in thecorridor, leaving the moody one in the room.
"Hanged if we know," replied Phil, "except that there's a girl mixed upin it." He refrained from saying anything about the accusation, thinkingthat would be noised about soon enough.
"Oh, if it's only a girl he'll soon be over it," declared Joe with aprofessional air.
"Of course," echoed his brother. "Come on."
Phil and Tom soon found themselves in the midst of a number of choicespirits, who moved silently about the lower end of the corridor, neara room that was sometimes used for student meetings, and where, morethan once, it was whispered, smokers had been held, in violation of therules. The reason for the selection of this apartment was that it had anopen fireplace, which carried off the fumes of the tobacco.
"Did he get the tip?" asked Jerry, as he and his brother, together withPhil and Tom, came up.
"He sure did," answered Bricktop. "Reports from the front are that he ison the warpath."
"Is everything working all right?" asked Joe.
"Fine. Can't you smell it?"
Tom and Phil sniffed the air. There was an unmistakable odor oftobacco.
"But if there's a smoker going on in there, why was Pitchfork tippedoff?" inquired Tom.
"Wait an' ye'll see, me lad," advised Bricktop in his rich brogue. "Ithink he's coming now. Pump her up, Kindlings!"
Then, for the first time Tom and his chum noticed that Dan Woodhouse hada small air pump, which he was vigorously working, as he stood in a darkcorner.
Footsteps sounded down the corridor. There were hasty cautions from theringleaders, and the lads hid themselves in the dim shadows of the bighall. The footsteps came nearer, and then they seemed to cease. But thereason was soon apparent, for Professor Emerson Tines was now tip-toeinghis way toward the door of the suspected room. By the dim light of ahalf-turned down gas jet he could be seen sneaking up. The only soundfrom the students was the faint sound of the air pump. Tom and Philcould not imagine what it was for.
Professor Tines reached the portal. Then he gave a sudden knock, andcalled:
"I demand to be admitted at once, young gentlemen! I know the nefariouspractice that is going on in there, and it must stop at once! Open thedoor or I shall summon the janitor and have it forced! Open at once!"
The professor tried the knob. To his surprise it at on
ce opened thedoor, and he almost stumbled into the apartment. He uttered anexclamation of delight, probably in the belief that he had caught thestudents red-handed, but the next moment he gave a gasp of dismay.
For, as Tom, Phil, and all the others could see from their vantagepoints in the shadowy recesses, the room was empty. It was lighted,however, and in plain view on a table in the middle of the floor was alarge flask. In the top of this there was a receptacle which contained apile of burning tobacco, and it was glowing as though some giant waspuffing on the improvised pipe. From a glass tube extending from theflask there poured out volumes of the pungent odor, and, as the puffscame, Tom and Phil could hear the air pump being worked. It was a"studentless smoker," the air pump, attached to a rubber hose whichexhausted the air from the flask, producing exactly the effect of someone puffing a pipe. The room was blue with the haze of tobacco, and asthe astonished professor stood and gazed at the strange sight more smokearose from the flask. Then, from somewhere in the dark recesses of thecorridor came a voice.
"Stung!" it ejaculated, and there was a hurried movement as the studentsfled in the darkness.