CHAPTER VII
A RUNAWAY ICEBOAT
"How are we going to get it to him?" asked Bert Wilson, as the Latinclass, its members having finished their punishment, filed out on thecampus.
"Mail it to him," suggested Jack.
"No, leave it at his door," advised Henry Miller.
"Huh! Who'd do it?" asked George Abbot.
"There you go again, Why!" exclaimed Tom with a laugh, as he passedaround the warning he had composed.
"Well, I mean who would have the nerve to go up and leave that atSkeel's door?" went on the small lad. "I wouldn't."
"I would!" declared Tom. "I'm tired of being imposed upon!"
"And so am I!" exclaimed Jack. "I'm with you. Let's get a lot ofFreshmen, tog up in masks, or with pillow cases over our heads, andleave the warning at his door. That'll make him be more decent, Iguess."
"All right," agreed Tom. "We'll do it."
That same night Tom, and several bold spirits, with pillow cases, orwhite cloths over their coats, slipped from the dormitory where theFreshmen lived, moved and had their being. Tom carried his warning.
It was in Latin, more or less accurate, and in plain terms demanded onthe part of Professor Skeel a more tolerant attitude toward the Freshmanclass, or, failure would be met with a burning in effigy of the dislikedinstructor. And the boys meant it, too.
"All ready now?" asked Tom as he and his chums, in the dark shadows of athick hedge around Mr. Skeel's house had adjusted their head-coverings."All ready?"
"Lead on!" whispered Jack. "Who's going to knock at the door?"
"I will," agreed Tom. "We'll go around to his 'study,' as he calls it.It's got a door opening directly into the garden, and he'll answer theknock himself."
Advancing from amid group of his chums a little later, with the warningheld in the cleft end of a long stick, Tom knocked on Mr. Skeel's door.The professor was in his study, poring over some book, and laying newtraps, in the way of difficult questions, for his pupils.
"Who's there?" he cried sharply, at the sound of Tom's rap.
A groan was the answer.
"What nonsense is this?" demanded Professor Skeel, as he rose from hischair.
"If those are students they'll pay dearly for this nonsense!" he washeard to exclaim, as he opened the door. The sight of the white-robedfigures, with one standing out from the others, holding forth a letterin a cleft stick, was a distinct surprise to the professor.
"What is the meaning of this?" he cried. "Who are you? I demand to know!"
Groans were his only answer, and Tom waved the letter before theprofessor's face. In very wonderment the instructor took it and then,with a final series of groans, Tom and the others turned and hurriedaway.
"Come back. I demand that you return. Take those silly cloths from yourheads, and let me see who you are!" cried Professor Skeel, but our heroand his chums knew better than to tarry.
"Halt!" cried the professor. He started after the lads, but, as hereached the bottom step he tripped on a stick, and fell and, as he hadon light slippers, the contact of his toes with the ground was anythingbut comfortable.
Uttering an exclamation of anger, the professor went back into his studywith the letter, while Tom and his chums hurried to their rooms, gettingto them undetected.
"What's this?" burst out Professor Skeel, as he read Tom's Latinwarning. "They demand better treatment! Burn me in effigy, eh? Why thisis a threat! A threatening letter! I'll have the entire Freshman classsuspended! I shall see Dr. Meredith at once!"
In his anger he did go over and see the head master, showing him theletter.
"Hum! Well," mused Doctor Meredith. "That is a sort of threat, ProfessorSkeel, but--er--would not it be well to--er--to grant the class afew more privileges? Remember they are first year lads, unused tothe discipline of a college, and, therefor, not to be dealt with tooharshly. Could you not grant their request?"
"What? My dear sir! Grant a request coupled with a threat? Never!I demand the suspension of the entire Freshman class, until theperpetrators of this outrage are discovered, and then I demand theirexpulsion. Why, Doctor Meredith, they had the audacity to call on _me_,disguised. On _me_! They had the effrontery to threaten _me_ in amiserably composed Latin scrawl. _Me!_ I demand the suspension of theentire class!"
"Hum! Well, I'm afraid I can't do that," said the head master. "I shalltake this under advisement, and act in the morning. But I can't suspendthe whole class. They are not all guilty, I'm sure," and nothing theirate professor said could change this decision.
In the morning Doctor Meredith referred to the matter, not half asstrongly, however, as Professor Skeel thought should have been done.There was no threat to suspend the class, and all the doctor did was tosuggest that different measures be taken in the future. He also askedthose engaged in the affair to make themselves known.
"As if we would!" exclaimed Tom, later. And I hardly believe DoctorMeredith expected that the lads would. He had been a college master formany years, and he knew boys, which Professor Skeel did not.
"Oh, but we'll get it in Latin class," predicted Jack. "We'd better allbe prepared today."
And they all were, very well prepared, but that did not save them froman angry tongue-lashing, in which the professor, on his own account,demanded to know those who had been instrumental in writing and bringingthe warning.
Of course no one answered, and, as Tom had taken the precaution toprint out the letter, his handwriting was not recognized. Every device,however, that an angry and bullying teacher could bring to bear, wasused on the class. But no one failed, and no punishment could beinflicted. Though had the professor been able to use his power he wouldhave administered corporal punishment to all the Freshmen.
The result was, however, that the Latin recitation was perfect, and, inhis heart the instructor was just a little bit afraid of the threat ofburning him in effigy. So, in a few days he did mend his ways somewhat,and the class began to feel that Tom's plan had worked wonders. But theend was not yet.
"Well, Tom, I've had enough of this!" exclaimed Jack, one coldafternoon, when the two chums had been "boning" away in their room forsome time. "Let's go hire that iceboat you were talking of, and have asail on the river. I guess she's frozen over thick enough."
"I'm with you!" and Tom tossed his book to one side. "Let's get George,Bert and some of the others."
Some days before Tom had discovered that the man of whom the lads hiredtheir rowboats, had a couple of ice craft for rent, and he had engagedone for the first good day.
A little later Tom and several of his chums, including Jack, were ontheir way to the frozen river, lessons being over for the day.
"Well, where are you bound for?" asked Bruce Bennington, as he met Tomand the others near the stream.
"Ice boating. Come along," invited Tom.
"Thanks. I believe I will. I was going for a skate, but somehow, I don'tfeel like exerting myself."
There was a look of worriment still on the Senior's face, and he talkedas though the trouble that was worrying him had not passed away. Tomwanted to help him, but knew it was best to say nothing.
A part of the river, where the water was not so deep, nor the currentunder the ice so swift as elsewhere, had been set aside by the schoolauthorities as the place where the students might skate. They wereforbidden to use the steel runners elsewhere, as a matter of safety,and, as the skating course was plenty long enough, none of the ladsventured on the part of the river where the ice boats were used. Infact the presence of those craft, of which there were several, made itnecessary that the numerous skaters keep clear of them.
The place where Tom hired the iceboat was quite a distance from theskating course, and, in consequence of a bend in the river, none of theother pupils, who were indulging in sports on the steel blades, were insight. There was one iceboat out on the broad surface of the river asour hero and his chums arrived.
"Know how to sail one?" asked Bruce, as he took his place in the shallowbox that se
rved as a sort of cockpit, while some of the boys perched onthe runners.
"Fairly well," replied Tom, and soon they were skimming over theslippery surface, with Tom at the helm. It was great sport, and theyliked it immensely.
"This is fine!" exclaimed Bruce, with sparkling eyes, and something of areturn of his old manner. "It beats skating!" and he kicked his skatesthat he had tossed into the box near him.
"Oh, skating's all right!" declared Tom, as he changed the courseslightly. "We'll have some skating races soon, won't we?"
"Yes, it's about time for them," answered the Senior.
After sailing for several miles Tom decided to put up a sort ofauxiliary sail on the boat, to get more speed. It was fitted to a shortbamboo mast, about five feet high.
"You'll all have to get out while I fix it," suggested Tom, as he letthe wind spill out of the big sail, and brought the boat up with a turn,while it gradually came to a stop.
They piled out, stamping up and down to warm their rather benumbed legsand feet. Tom and Jack were soon putting up the little sail.
"I've got to whittle down the end of the mast to make it fit in,"declared Tom after a trial. "Lend me your knife, Jack."
Bruce had put on his skates for a little turn while he waited, and theothers were racing up and down. Tom and Jack were working over theauxiliary sail, standing a short distance away from the iceboat, whenthere came a sudden puff of wind. The main sheet became caught, the bigsail filled, and a moment later the empty iceboat was racing over thesmooth, frozen river at dangerous speed!