CHAPTER XII
TOM DOESN'T TELL
Tom and Sid hurried along in the midst of the freshmen, Phil Clintontrailing after them. The three found themselves in a little group,comparatively alone.
"Maybe we'd better do something," proposed Tom.
"No, best not to interfere," advised Sid. "Let them manage it."
"But if Gladdus and Battersby are hurt----"
"Come on," urged Phil. "We're likely to be caught any minute. Proc. Zanewill be out after all that racket. Let's get to our rooms and lay low."
When Tom and Sid were in their apartment the scrub pitcher turned to hischum and asked:
"Did you know what was in the wind to-night, Sid?"
"No. I left it all to Langridge and Kerr. But I guess it's all right.Why?"
"Oh, nothing much. But if some one is hurt----"
"Nonsense, don't worry. Why, that's nothing to what other classes havedone. I remember hearing a story of how----"
But Sid's yarn was interrupted by a tap at the door, and Ford Fentonslid in. There was rather a frightened look on his face.
"What's up, Fenton?" asked Sid.
"I don't know, but something is. They've carried Gladdus and Battersbyinto the infirmary, and there's a lot of scurrying about. They've sentfor a doctor from town, and Moses and Proc. Zane have gone down to thepavilion."
"What for?" asked Tom.
"Blessed if I know. Say, but we broke up their singing all right, didn'twe? It was great. My uncle says----"
"Shut up!" cried Tom, and there was such unusual irritability in histone that the other two looked at him in surprise. He saw it and wenton: "I--I didn't exactly mean that, Fenton, old chap, but I'm--I'm allupset."
"For cats' sake, what about?" demanded Sid. "You don't mean to sayyou're worried because our class knocked out a couple of greasy oldsophs?"
"Well, I--er----"
There came another interruption, and a lad entered.
"Here's the Snail," exclaimed Sid as Sam Looper crawled in and closedthe door softly behind him. "He can find out what's up. How about it,Snail--any news?"
Sam blinked his eyes as if the light hurt him.
"I've been around--around," he said slowly, waving his hand to take inthe whole compass of the college and grounds. "I saw 'em carry the twosophs away. They're badly burned and shocked. Langridge is a fool!" Theyhad seldom seen the Snail so excited. "He went and strung a wire fromthe electric light circuit to the iron hand rail around the pavilion.Only he made a mistake in the connections and got the wires crossed withthe powerful arc circuit. The incandescent is only a hundred and tenvolts, while the arc is twenty-four hundred. Some difference. Only thatthey got a small part of it, they'd be dead instead of merely badlyshocked."
Tom Parsons half uttered an exclamation.
"What's the matter?" asked Sid quickly.
"Oh, nothing. Go on, Snail."
"That's about all," came from Sam. "Pitchfork--he's a sort of doctor,you know--he's working over 'em now. I guess they'll be all right."
Tom started to leave the room.
"Where you going?" inquired Sid.
"Out. I--I must see what's happened!"
"You stay here!" ordered Sid, half fiercely. "You'll be nabbed in aminute. Proc. Zane has his scouts out, waiting to corral everybody.Here, Snail, you go. You know how to keep out of sight."
"Sure," agreed Sam, who liked nothing better than to prowl around in thedark. "Wait here and I'll sneak back."
"Be careful," cautioned Ford.
The Snail slowly winked his half-shut eyes, but did not speak. Then heclosed the door softly and they heard him tiptoeing down the corridor.
"The Snail will find out," almost whispered Sid. Somehow they allappeared to be under a strain. Tom was pacing back and forth in theroom. Ford stood with his back to the mantel, his hands clasped behindhim. Sid tried to look at a book, but he took no sense of the words.Finally, with an exclamation, he threw it on the sofa. Ford quietly leftthe room and a little later Phil Clinton came in. Sid and Tom saw thathe had heard all.
Tom ceased his nervous walk and went over to the sofa. He sat down onit, the ancient piece of furniture creaking with his weight. But he wasnot there half a minute before he arose and began pacing up and downagain. Then he tried an easy chair, whence there floated up a littlecloud of dust from the old cushions. There was silence in the apartment,broken only by the ticking of a fussy little alarm clock. It seemed todouble up on the number of seconds allotted to a minute. The three couldhear each other's breathing. They were under some strain, though, forthe life of them, neither Sid nor Phil could tell what it was.
"Why doesn't some one say something?" asked Phil at length, and it wasas if some one had broken the silence in a church.
Sid picked up the book he had cast aside. Then he threw it down again,for there sounded the noise of a person coming along the corridor. TheSnail came in.
"Well?" gasped Tom, and it was as if he had shouted it, though he spokein a low, tense voice.
"They're in a bad way," said the Snail slowly, "but there's a chance topull them through. There's going to be an investigation, I heard.Langridge is likely to----"
There came a knock on the door. The lads started guiltily. Phil, beingnearest the portal, opened it, though if it was one of the proctor's"scouts," as was likely, he would be "up" for breaking one of thecollege rules about being in another room after the prescribed hours. Itwas a "scout," Mr. Snell, a sort of upper janitor.
"Mr. Parsons," said the scout deferentially--and he took no noticeof the presence of the Snail or Phil, for which they were dulygrateful--"Mr. Parsons, the proctor would like to see you in hisoffice."
"Now?" asked Tom, and his heart began to beat double strokes.
"Now, yes, sir."
Without a look at his chums Tom went out and to the office. He wasafraid lest he might betray the secret he feared would be disclosed atany moment--the secret of the coil of wire.
"Mr. Parsons," began Proctor Zane slowly when the door had closed behindTom, "there has been a serious accident to-night."
Tom bowed. He could not trust his voice.
"Two students were badly hurt and the results may be lasting. They areonly just now out of danger."
Once more Tom bowed. He could not speak. The beating of his heart waschoking him.
"As a rule," went on the proctor judicially, "I take no notice ofthe--er--the affairs between the different classes or student bodies.But this time I am obliged to. Dr. Churchill and myself have made anexamination of the pavilion where this outrage occurred. We discoveredthe wires running from the electric light circuit to the hand rail. Wediscovered where a spring connection had been made, so that, by theburning away of a fuse, the parts of the spring closed, the wires camein contact and the current filled the hand rail. We also discoveredsomething else."
He paused, and Tom, for the first time, looked the proctor full in theface. Mr. Zane held out a small object.
"This knife was found near where the wires were fastened to the railing,"he said. "It has your name on it. Is it yours?"
"Yes, sir," replied Tom.
"You took part in this affair?"
"I am a freshman."
"That is answer enough. Did you attach the wires?"
"No, and I had nothing to do with that part of it."
"Your knife would seem to indicate that you had."
No answer from Tom.
"Did you use your knife to attach the wires?"
"No, sir."
"Do you know who did?"
"I think I do."
"Will you tell?"
Tom could almost hear his heart beating. There was a singing in hisears. Then he answered:
"No. I cannot tell, Mr. Zane. I--I----"
"That will do," said the proctor gravely. "I did not expect you wouldtell."
Tom turned and made his way from the room. There was a mist before hiseyes. There came back to him the promise he had made to Langridge. Onhis hono
r as a freshman he had agreed not to give information. When hegave the promise he had not known how serious it would be. But,nevertheless, it was a promise.
Tom stumbled into his room. The Snail and Phil were gone. Sid sat withthe light turned low. He jumped up as his chum came in.
"Tom," he cried, "what's the matter?"
"Nothing," was the answer in a dull, spiritless tone. Tom threw himselfinto a chair. The fussy little clock ticked away. Half an hour passedand not a word was spoken.
"You'd better go to bed, old man," said Sid gently. "It'll be all rightto-morrow."
Without a word Tom began to undress. The light was turned out. Sid wasdozing off when he heard his chum tossing restlessly on his bed.
"Tom," he called through the darkness, "can I help you?"
"No," came the answer, and then Tom lay quiet. But he did not sleep.