CHAPTER XIV
THE INITIATION
Made up, as it was, of members of all four classes in Boxwood Hall, theBang-Ups was the largest secret society in the institution. It had afraternity house of its own, not as elaborate as that of the Bull, thejunior society, nor as large as the Ivy Vine, the exclusive house ofthe lordly senior society, but it was a very fine place for all that.
“I’m glad we’re going to be members,” said Jerry, talking over theirelection as they strolled past the fraternity house one afternoon.
“So am I,” added Bob. “We’ll have a nice place to spend our evenings.”
“I’m glad, too,” remarked Ned, “even though Frank and his croniesaren’t friendly with us.”
“I wonder what they’ll do at the initiation?” ventured Bob.
“Oh, don’t get nervous,” replied Jerry. “We’ll live through it.”
“Well, I wish it were over,” the stout lad went on.
“It will be, to-night,” said Ned.
Attendance at one of Professor Snodgrass’s lectures later thatafternoon brought the work of our three friends to a close for the day,but when they were leaving the room the little scientist beckoned toJerry.
“Have you anything special to do from now until supper time?” he asked.
“No,” was the answer.
“Then could you take me in your auto to Fox Swamp, near the town ofFairview? It is only about twenty miles, and if I know anything aboutthe speed of you boys you can easily do it.”
“Of course we’ll take you!” exclaimed Jerry. “Are you going after afox?”
“No, that is only a local name for a tract of land, which isn’t atall swampy, though it used to be. One of my students, an enthusiasticcollector of butterflies, reported to me that he saw some _Vanessaantiopa_, sometimes called the Mourning Cloak, or Camberwell Beauty,over there the other day. They are the butterflies that have brownwings, with spots of blue and an outer band of yellow, but there is arare variety in which the yellow band broadens out, and reaches almostto the middle of the wings. Only two or three such sports, as they arecalled, are known; but I hope I may find one. I have plenty of theordinary variety of this butterfly, but I would like to get a sportor, as some collectors call them, ‘freaks’ or ‘aberrations.’”
“We’ll be glad to go with you,” Bob told him. “But I wouldn’t know onebutterfly from another.”
“You should take more interest in zoology,” chided Professor Snodgrass.“Still I cannot complain of you boys, for you have often helped me toget some very rare specimens.”
The automobile was brought out of the professor’s garage, where it waskept, and in it the four were soon speeding toward Fairview. Fox Swamplay beyond the town, and on the way, after passing through the town,stopping on Bob’s request for some ice cream, the boys saw a largetract, with buildings which looked as though it might be a place wherefairs were held.
“That’s what it is,” Professor Snodgrass informed the boys. “There isa big fair held there every year, generally toward the end of October.This year, I understand, there is to be an exhibition of aeroplanes.”
“We’ll have to take that in,” declared Jerry.
“Here’s the place,” announced the scientist, as they passed along aroad, on either side of which was a patch of woodland. “Here is where Ihope to find one of the freak _Vanessa antiopa_.”
“We’ll come with you and help look for it, but you’ll have to tell uswhat to look for,” suggested Jerry.
“Well, call to me whenever you see any kind of butterfly,” theprofessor said, “and I can tell if it is one that I want.”
Leaving the automobile at the edge of the road, they went into theswamp, though, as Professor Snodgrass had said, it was not at all wet.They scattered, yet keeping within sight of one another, and then beganthe search for the butterfly.
At first none was seen, though the professor managed to get a green bugwhich he designated by some long Latin name, and said it was a greatfind.
Then Bob, who had gone deeper into the woods than the others, suddenlycalled:
“Here you are! Here, Professor! Here’s a butterfly with big yellowbands on its wings!”
“Watch him! Don’t let him get away! I’ll be there in a minute!” eagerlycried the little scientist.
“Shall I catch him under my hat?” asked Bob.
“No! Oh no! Never do that! You would crush the wings. I must get him inthe net. I’m coming!”
Professor Snodgrass ran toward Bob, who stood near a bush, intentlygazing at some object on it. With his long-handled net the professorraced forward. And then something happened.
His foot slipped, the handle of the net caught on a tree branch, andthen went between his legs. The result may be imagined. The professorfell down full length, and there was a cracking sound when the handleof the net broke.
Ned and Jerry rushed forward to pick up the unfortunate littlescientist, and Bob also turned away from the bush to lend his aid. ButProfessor Snodgrass saw Bob’s action, and raising himself to his knees,he cried:
“Don’t move, Bob! Don’t stir! Don’t take your eyes off that butterfly.It’s just what I’ve been seeking for many years. Watch him! I’m nothurt. I can get up myself.”
This he did, springing to his feet with the nimbleness of a boy, andwithout any aid from Ned or Jerry.
“Are you hurt?” asked the tall lad.
“Not a bit. The ground was soft.”
“Your net’s broken,” Ned informed him.
“That’s nothing!” cried Professor Snodgrass eagerly, as he again ranforward. “It’s only the handle, and I can fit a new one on. It is longenough as it is now. Is the Camberwell beauty there yet, Bob?”
“Yes, Professor, but I don’t call it much of a beauty. There it is--onthat branch,” and he pointed out some object to the scientist.
The latter made a quick movement with his net, and brought it back tohim with a sweeping motion. Then he eagerly peered within the folds ofthe mesh. A disappointed look came over his face, and he sighed deeply.
“Isn’t that the kind you want?” asked Bob. “It’s yellow.”
“It’s only a yellow leaf,” said the professor, showing it in his hand.
“All that work for nothing!” cried Jerry. “Breaking the professor’s nethandle, tripping him up and all, for a yellow leaf. What’s the matterwith your eyes, Bob?”
“Why--er--it looked like a butterfly!” insisted the stout lad.
“Never mind,” said the professor soothingly. “You meant all right, and,for the moment, I myself was deceived.”
Bob expressed his contrition, and redoubled his efforts to find whatthe professor sought, but to no end. The _Vanessa antiopa_ seemed tohave deserted Fox Swamp.
“Ah, here’s a butterfly. Sure, this time!” cried Bob a little later.“I’m not sure it’s the kind you want, but I know it isn’t a leaf,Professor.”
The scientist hurried to the spot where Bob stood, and this time therewas no accident. But again came a look of disappointment to the face ofProfessor Snodgrass.
“Isn’t that a butterfly?” asked Bob. “See, it’s moving away. Why don’tyou get it?” for the professor did not move his net.
“It’s a moth, not a butterfly,” said the scientist, “and I have enoughof that variety.”
“A moth!” exclaimed Ned. “It looked just like a butterfly.”
“Some moths are hard to distinguish from butterflies,” the professorwent on. “They are quite different in their habits, however.Butterflies fly by day, and like the sunshine. Moths, on the otherhand, are night-flying insects, though there are exceptions to bothrules.”
“How can you tell a butterfly from a moth?” Jerry asked with interest.
“The best way, for an amateur, is to tell by the antennæ, or feelers.In a butterfly the feelers are thread-like, and have a small knob, orclub, on the end, and naturalists give them the name _rhopalocera_,formed of two Greek nouns, one meaning a ‘club’
and the other a ‘horn.’
“Moths have all sorts of antennæ, or feelers, and we naturalistscall them _heterocera_, which is made up of two Greek words, onemeaning ‘all sorts,’ and the other (keras) a horn, as in the case ofbutterflies. So then we have these definitions: Moths are _lepidoptera_having _all sorts_ of feelers, except those that are knob-shaped onthe end, while butterflies are _lepidoptera_ which have _only_ feelerswhich end in knobs. Though in some tropical countries there are mothswith feelers just like those of a butterfly. But I forgot I was not inthe class room,” and Professor Snodgrass ended his little lecture.
“Go on, we like it!” exclaimed Ned, so while they were hunting for therare specimen of the butterfly, Mr. Snodgrass told the boys more aboutthe beautiful insects.
“I’ve a good notion to make a collection myself,” said Jerry.
“I wish you would,” returned the professor. “Though it is a little lateto start this season. Begin with me next spring.”
“I will,” declared the tall lad.
They had to give up the unavailing search and return to Boxwood Hall,reaching there just in time for supper.
“Where have you fellows been?” demanded George Fitch. “Don’t you knowthis is the night you are to be initiated into the Bang-Ups?”
“Sure we know it!” said Bob.
“I thought you had skipped out--afraid of the ordeal,” said Tom Bacon.
“Nothing like that,” came from Jerry, as he told the boys where theyhad been.
“Got your nerve with you?” George demanded.
“Why?” inquired Ned.
“Oh, you’ll need it all right,” was the laughing response. “The wordhas gone around and there’ll be a gladsome crowd to assist you throughthe portals and into the inner sanctum.”
“Go as far as you like,” said Jerry, with a laugh. “I think they’retrying to bluff us,” he confided later to Ned and Bob.
George Fitch escorted Ned, Bob and Jerry to the fraternity house of theBang-Ups. They were admitted to a room, beyond the door of which couldbe heard talking and laughter.
“You’ll soon be one of us,” George said. “I’ll leave you now. Bettertake off your clothes--that is, all except your underwear, and put onthese,” and he handed the boys bath robes. “There’s some rough work,and there’s no use spoiling a good suit.”
“That’s right,” agreed Jerry, and they proceeded to invest themselvesin the robes.
“Well, I wonder what’s next,” remarked Ned, as they waited in the roomwhich George had left. “How long do we stay here?”
The question was answered a moment later, for the door opened, showingnothing but a vast black expanse beyond. Then a figure, which seemedto be a living skeleton, advanced. The three chums saw at once thatthe effect was produced by a black cloak on which had been drawn theoutlines of a skeleton in phosphorous paint.
“Are ye the fearsome candidates?” asked the figure, in a deep voice.
“Candidates, but not fearsome,” answered Jerry.
“Silence!” came the sharp order. “Answer yea and nay, but no more.”
“Aye,” responded Jerry.
“Then follow me and we shall see if ye are able to stand the test offire, of water, and of death. If so be ye may prove worthy membersof our ancient and secret order. If not ye shall be cast into outerdarkness. Advance!”
The skeleton figure turned and walked into the black void. Ned, Bob andJerry followed, being able to see only a little way into the room bythe light in the one where they had donned the bath robes. But, even asthey turned, this light went out, and they were left in total darkness,with only the phosphorus glow to guide them.
“Follow me!” came in solemn tones from the skeleton one.
The three walked onward, but there were obstructions in the way, andthough the glowing figure in front avoided them, our heroes were not sofortunate. In turn Jerry, Ned and Bob stumbled over something and wentdown heavily.
“Hang it all!” muttered Ned, rubbing his shins.
“Silence!” came the sharp command. “The path to the Olympian heights isrough, but ye are not worthy if ye fall discouraged. Follow on!”
Those had been no gentle falls that had come to the three chums, butwith repressed groans over aching bones and skinned knuckles and kneesthey went on. The glow in front of them was their only guide, and, forall they really knew, the skeleton was their only companion in thatdark room. But Jerry fancied he could hear the breathing of many, anddid not doubt that the room was filled with students who were takingpart in the initiation.
“Be careful, we may fall again,” whispered Ned. He hoped his voice wasnot heard, but the glowing figure again commanded:
“Silence!”
Hardly had he spoken than the three initiates, who were walkingtogether, arm in arm, suddenly became aware of a void beneath theirfeet, and a moment later they felt themselves falling. Then theyplunged into a tank of icy water, sinking down until it closed overtheir heads.
Ned, Bob and Jerry at Boxwood Hall; Or, The Motor Boys as Freshmen Page 15