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Frank Merriwell's Chums, a novel by Burt L. Standish |
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Chapter 15. Warned |
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_ CHAPTER XV. WARNED At the head of the stairs swarmed the plebes, who were convulsed with laughter. "Oh! oh! oh!" gasped Sammy Smiles, clinging to his sides. "Somebody please do something to stop me from laughing! Ha! ha! ha! If I don't stop soon, I'll die! Oh, dear! oh, dear! I am sore all over!" "Help!" cried Professor Gunn. The boys on the floor below the Cockloft were out by this time, and they were enjoying the spectacle quite as much as the plebes above. Frank had rushed into his room, and he came forth with a bag that contained something that moved and snarled. Reaching the head of the stairs, he quickly opened the mouth of the bag and extracted two cats. He had slipped on a pair of heavy gloves, and he succeeded in holding the cats securely, while he said to Ned Gray: "Quick--take the string that held the mouth of the bag--tie their tails together! Lively!" Ned caught up the string, and worked swiftly, tying the cats' tails tightly together. When this was accomplished, Frank gave the felines a fling toward the group at the foot of the stairs. The cats struck one on either side of Professor Gunn's neck, and, as their tails were tied together, they hung there, but not quietly. With wild howls of agony, they began clawing each other, incidentally, by way of diversion, socking their claws into the professor's face now and then, and ripping up a few furrows in that gentleman's countenance. Professor Gunn howled louder than the cats, and tried to fling them off; but they clung to him as if they loved him, and continued to shower marks of affection upon him. "Great Scott!" gasped Ned Gray. "If it is ever found out that you were at the bottom of this, Merriwell, you will be expelled sure!" "Then I shall perish in a good cause," laughed Frank. "Fun is better than medicine, and we were beginning to stagnate." "Help!" cried Professor Gunn, in tones of deep anguish. "Take these beasts away! They are devouring me!" "Meow! me-e-eow! S'pt! s'pt! Me-e-e-e-ow!" howled the cats, as they continued to scratch the professor's face till it began to look like the colored map of a country that had been disturbed by a violent earthquake. Somehow Hot Scotch had gotten into a wrangle with High Jinks, whom he was holding down and punching vigorously. "Hit me in the ribs, will ye! Pound me in the eye, will ye? Tackle me when down, will ye? Well, I've got a score against you, and I'll settle it now!" "Take him off!" squealed Jenks, thrashing about with his long legs. "Save me! save me!" Having untangled themselves from the mass and become freed of the crawfish in the struggle, Hans and Barney sat on the floor and stared in astonishment at the spectacle. The sight was too much for the risibilities of the Irish boy, and he forgot that he had been severely bitten by "centipades." "Begorra! Dutchy, this is a roight loively avening, Oi do belave," he chuckled. "Will yez look at this fer a racket, Oi dunno! Hurro! Sail in, b'ys!" "Vell, I don't efer seen der peat uf dot!" gasped Hans, his eyes bulging. "Uf dot don't peen a recular fight, I vos an oysder!" "Now, boys, it's time to take a hand," said Frank Merriwell. "Be lively! Gather up the crawfish, and throw 'em out of the windows. Work quick! Here, Windsor, dispose of this bag!" His words put the cadets in motion. Down the stairs he ran, and quickly gathered up every crawfish he could find, while others followed his example. Then, leaving the boys to take care of the cats and separate the fighting professors, he bounded up the stairs and hurried to the room occupied by Barney and Hans, where he removed every crawfish he could find in the beds or upon the floor. He worked with great swiftness, and accomplished all this in a very few seconds. In the meantime, some of the boys who had been in the joke from the start, took hold and aided Frank to clear out all signs of the crawfish, while others hastened to Professor Gunn's assistance, and pulled off the cats, removing the string from their tails. Barney and Hans were beginning to call for the doctor again, declaring they had been bitten by "centibedes," or "cintipades," and Professor Gunn was glaring over a handkerchief held to his bleeding face, while High Jinks and Hot Scotch stood apart and glowered at each other, ready to resume hostilities at the slightest provocation. Lieutenant Gordan was on hand, looking very stern, and asking a few very pointed questions. He fully understood a practical joke had been perpetrated, and woe to the perpetrator if the lieutenant found proof against him. Gordan was stern and as unwavering as the hills in the discharge of his duty. But the lieutenant found five very excited and incoherent persons in the group that had assembled at the foot of the stairs. Professors Jenks and Scotch would not say much of anything, only mutter and glare daggers at each other, while Professor Gunn was too furious and too confused to tell anything straight. Barney and Hans declared over and over that they had been bitten by "centipedes," and showed the wounds. The jumbled story told by them puzzled the lieutenant more than anything else. Having been released, the cats had taken flight. Lieutenant Gordan did not say much, but the expression on his face told that he meant to investigate the affair thoroughly. The time, however, was not suitable for an investigation, and so he ordered everybody to their rooms. Barney called for a drink of milk and vinegar, but the lieutenant assured him that he was not in danger of dying immediately if he did not obtain what he desired, so both the Irish lad and the Dutch boy were sent to their rooms, like the others. In a brief time silence settled over the academy, and no one could have fancied there had been such an uproar there a short while before. In the morning, Bartley said to Frank. "What in the world has got into you, old man? You are full of the Old Harry, lately. You will have this academy turned bottom up, if you keep on." Frank smiled. "We've got to have something to break the monotony," he said. "A fellow gets tired of plugging away at his studies all the time." "That's so," admitted Bart, who was a dark-faced, reserved sort of boy; "but such tricks as you perpetrated last night are dangerous." "How?" "What if Lieutenant Gordan finds out you were at the bottom of it? You know what will happen." "Sure!" "Well, you are taking big chances for a little fun." "A little fun!" echoed Frank. "Didn't you consider that something more than a little fun last night? It struck me as a roaring farce." A faint trace of a smile came to Hodge's dark face. "You enjoy anything of the kind far more than I do, Merriwell," he said. "I like fun of a different sort." "Well, I fancy you will acknowledge I take some interest in other sports, Bart?" "That's all right, Frank; you are the leader of our class in everything, because you are a natural leader. But you have a dangerous rival." "Think so?" "I know it. There is a fellow in this school who is aiming to stand at the head in athletics. Up to a few weeks ago he remained in the background, so that little or no notice was taken of him; but he is coming to the front now, and I believe he means to give you a hot race for first position. He has even declared openly that he is a pitcher, and means to make a try for a position on the team." "That's all right, Bart. I am not hoggish enough to want all the honors, and, if we play as much ball as we intend to next spring and summer, we'll need another pitcher. I can't do all the twirling." "But he says he will not play under you as captain of the team." "Ha! That is interesting! Now you are waking me up. I suppose the fellow you speak of is Paul Rains?" "Yes, he is the one." "Then Rains is something of an enemy, as well as a rival. Well, we'll see who is the better man." _ |
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