CHAPTER V.
CAPTURED BY THE ENEMY.
The meal was finally over. There was nothing of the home quiet in itat all. The Codfish well described it as "grab and guzzle and git."
Outside the early dusk had come and the lights of the dormitoriestwinkled out here and there to meet the moon which had just pushedher disk above the cloudless eastern horizon. The katydids kept uptheir ceaseless argument in the great elms overhead as Frank andJimmy walked slowly arm in arm down the yard. Lewis had dashed off tohis room to do some long over-due work on a recitation for the earlymorning hour.
From the other side of the yard came the sound of singing.
"That's the Glee Club tuning up," said Jimmy. "They sing out of doorsuntil it gets too cold to be comfortable."
The song floated over to them beneath the dusky arbor of the elmtrees:
QUEEN'S SCHOOL DAYS.
Come all you jolly Queen's boys And harken to our song, We'll tell you all our school joys, We'll laugh both loud and long--
_Chorus._
For we'll sing ha, ha, And we'll yell RAH, RAH, In a merry, merry roundelay. A laugh and a smile, We have them all the while In our happy, happy Queen's school days.
When first I came to Queen's School, Way back in sixty-eight, O, wasn't I the green fool In all this wide estate!
I was a verdant youngster, As green as green as grass, They stuffed my head with knowledge All in the Freshman class.
A year went by so swiftly On happy wings did soar, And then the masters made me A jolly Sophomore.
And next a learned Junior My fate it came to be, The Profs. they set me climbing Straight up the Wisdom Tree.
And then at last a Senior With dignity complete, The Freshmen, Sophs. and Juniors All kneeling at my feet.
But now the fun is over; We draw a deep, deep sigh, Farewell to life in clover, Good-by old Queens, Good-by.
The boys came to a halt as they listened to the rollicking melodyborne to their ears on the evening breeze. To Frank came theexquisite feeling of being a part of the school, and the songthrilled him out of all relation to its value as music.
"Great, isn't it?" and he looked up at the dark, gently swayingbranches overhead and let his eye follow the long line of schoolbuildings. "I was wondering only a little while ago," he said, "if itwouldn't be the best thing for me to go to work somewhere and give upschool and college."
"Changed your mind about it so soon?"
"Yes, I guess I have. It's fine to be a part of a school likeQueen's, and to meet all the fellows, and fight your little battles,and maybe win a few. I don't think I'll ever amount to much here, butI'm going to have a try at everything that comes my way."
"What did your father and mother say about your going to work?"
"O, mother didn't think much of it, but Dad, as usual, put it up tome. 'It's your own life, you know, and you've got to live it. Ifyou want to go into business life now, I'll find you a good placeto start, and if you want to take a few extra years broadening youreducation, there's Queen's ready to take you if you're ready forher.' And I'm glad I decided this way. It's going to be wonderful."He had forgotten the meeting with Dixon that afternoon, and theunhappy incident at his appearance on the scene. The black shadow ofGamma Tau which had fallen across his path did not trouble him.
Frank and Jimmy had traversed the length of the school walk down tothe great iron gates at the Milton turnpike, and were returning upthe yard. The group on the steps of Russell were still singing andwere engaged at that particular moment with the closing chords of apopular tune. Then they broke out in a joyful and triumphant pean,the new football song, written by Arthur Stubbs, Jimmy informedFrank, "editor of the _Mirror_, which maybe you don't know is thegreat and buzzing school weekly. Sounds pretty good, doesn't it?"
They both listened as the song rolled out on the night air, doggerelsure enough, but given life and character by the vigorous way it wasflung out:
See our team come marching Down the white-barred field, Pushing back the foemen, Queen's will never yield.
Charging fast and faster, Warwick's on the run, Disaster on disaster, And Queen's has just begun.
Push them o'er the goal line, Roll them in the mold, Show them who's the master, Raise the Blue and Gold.
Cheer the dusty victors As they turn away, Raise the shout to heaven, Hurray, hurray, hurray----
"The last line is to be shouted in unison," explained Jimmy, "and itwill make a great noise when the whole school gets into it."
The air was catchy, and Frank found himself humming as he walkedalong:
"Show them who's the master, Raise the Blue and Gold."
"If I can't do anything else, Jimmy, I can help the team by singing."
"Well, I'm thinking that singing won't save this Queen's Schoolfootball bunch when we meet Warwick."
"Is Warwick strong this year? I saw they had cleaned up Dean withoutmuch trouble, but haven't noticed much about them."
"Strong!" ejaculated Jimmy, "I guess they are. They've taken everyonethey've played into camp this fall, and they boast that Queen's scalpwill dangle at their belts as the last and the best of the series.Like the fellow in Danny Deever, 'I'm dreading wot I got to watch'two weeks from Saturday--that's the date of the bloody battle downthere on the gridiron," and Jimmy jerked his thumb in the directionof the meadow.
In their promenade the boys had almost reached the second entryin Warren Hall when they noticed a group of perhaps half a dozenfellows, a short distance up the walk. As Frank and Jimmy came up tothe entry this group got in motion and approached them, and as theypassed, one of the group jostled Frank off the walk. "Keep out ofthe way, Freshmen," said a gruff voice, but in spite of the attemptto disguise it, both boys recognized it instantly.
"Chip Dixon," they exclaimed in a breath.
"Now what is he hanging around here for with that bunch of hiscronies, I'd like to know," said Jimmy. "I wonder if he has a notionof hazing you. By Jove, I'll bet you a dollar that's it. They werewaiting for you to grab you, but seeing me here they probably gave itup for the time at least. Let's walk on."
"Why would they give it up? You talk like a Senior, and if I haven'tbeen sleeping like old Rip Van, you're nothing more than a Freshmanyourself. My head isn't as hoary as yours by three weeks, that's all."
"O, no, I've been through the mill and they never haze a fellowtwice. They gave me a jolly roast though, and that let's me out forthe rest of my natural school life."
"What did they do to you?" inquired Frank, who had heard of suchdoings on the persons of unsuspecting and confiding youth. "Isupposed that hazing had been stopped here completely. The _MiltonGazette_ said that Doctor Hobart had ordered it stopped after theyducked that fellow in the river one night and he got his death fromit."
"Yes; Dr. Hobart stopped hazing, and threatened to fire anyone hecaught at it, but while that has stopped some of the worst of itmaybe, it isn't dead by a long shot. They didn't do much to me, tiedmy hands and feet and rolled me down the hill over there, and gave mean egg shampoo and mussed me up considerable, but I came out of itall right. Dixon was in the gang that did for me, I think, but I'mnot sure, because they were masked."
"Well, they're not going to haze me," said Frank, "if I see themfirst."
"Interference with your personal liberty resented, eh?"
"Yes, maybe. I wouldn't mind anybody but Dixon, and I certainly willnot have such a galoot as he is mauling me around, if I have to fightthe whole gang."
"Better not fight, Frank. Better take it good naturedly, and it willbe over quick. If you resent, you're likely to get it harder."
"Well, if they really are out to haze me there's no help for it,but I'll have some fun, too," and he stretched out his arm andflexed his muscles. "Haven't been paddling canoes around the FloridaEverglades for nothing, Jimmy."
Jimmy grinned. "Better come up to my room just the same; no usecourting a ruction. If they
are after you, they may come around andnot finding you in, may give it up and forget about it. Come on."
"Hanged if I do," said Frank. "I don't believe there's anything toit. You, having had your medicine, are suspicious. If they want methey will find me."
By this time the two had retraced their steps to Frank's entry. Allwas quiet. The singers had ended their melodious efforts and movedoff. Only now and then a single figure could be seen hurrying alongunder the tree arches. The moon, rising higher in the sky, sent herbeams through the branches, and brought out every object in the yarddistinctly. No plotters against the peace of No. 18 were to be seenanywhere.
"False alarm, old man," said Frank, as they stood there scanning theschool yard. "All is quiet on the Potomac. So long, see you in themorning. Gleason must be visiting, for there's no light in the room."
"Maybe you're right, but, just the same, turn the key when you gointo your room. So long, see you in the morning."
"So long," echoed Frank, and turned and entered the arching doorway.
Frank climbed the steps of the first flight three at a leap. Hewasn't afraid of Dixon and his gang even if they were on the warpath."It's great to be back at school," he thought, and as he took thelast few steps leading to the second landing, he hummed to himselfthe lines he had heard the fellows singing:
"Show them who's the master, Raise the Blue and Gold."
"What's the matter with this stairway,--no light; they must bestingy with their gas," said Frank aloud. "Since Gleason isn't backyet, I'll have a session with these duds of mine and get my room torights. To-morrow I'll start on this sitting-room ruin. Where did Iput those blooming matches?" he added to himself as he opened hisroom door and stepped inside. "O, yes, I remember, on the corner ofthe mantel," and he headed for that point in the darkness of theroom. He stumbled over a chair which didn't seem to be where it oughtto be, certainly it wasn't there when he went out, but he reachedthe mantel and began to fumble for the box which he distinctlyremembered was there.
"There's Gleason's stein," he said half aloud, as his hand toucheda gigantic creation with a pewter top that he had noticed thatafternoon, "and there's the alarm clock. I'm getting hotter. Thematches were near the clock, I remember now."
Frank stood still and stretched his arm out trying to find the end ofthe shelf. His fingers touched something which made him thrill andrecoil. But in spite of his quickness he felt something grasp hiswrist sharply. He tried to draw away, but the hand, for such it was,tightened its grip and another came to the assistance of the first.Instantly there was the shuffling of feet, and with a rush he wassurrounded. He felt many hands laid upon him roughly and insistently.
Frank fought desperately, hitting, kicking and trying with all hisstrength to wrench himself free. By twisting his arm sharply hemanaged for a moment, to break the hold that someone had on him, andshot his fist sharply out into the darkness with all his force. Itfound a soft mark somewhere on someone's face, and hurt, too, as agrunt attested. But he was grasped still more firmly and had no morechance to fight.
In the scuffle in the dark which followed, chairs were knockedover, the table was bumped into, and Gleason's gorgeous shade fellwith a crash to the table, and then trickled off to the floor inmany pieces. But Frank's struggles were useless, for he was bornebackwards to the floor and pressed down by superior weight. Finallyhe lay on the floor with his hands pinioned to his sides, and aweight of bodies across his legs. Not a word had been spoken in thestruggle, but now a voice whispered: "Strike a match, some of you.This Indian hit me on the nose and I'm bleeding like a stuck pig. Andthat won't make it any easier for him," the voice added, vindictively.
There was a scratching sound and a light flared up. Frank looked upfrom the floor to see himself surrounded by half a dozen fellowsmasked and completely disguised. Coats were turned inside out,collars up and caps reversed, the better to conceal their identity.The mask itself covered the face from the middle of the forehead tothe upper lip, and, simple though it was, made recognition almostimpossible, particularly in the dim light from the low turned gasjet which the conspirators had set going.
Frank had been neatly trapped, and was helpless as a baby before thesuperior numbers. He was presently more helpless, for his hands werelashed behind him with a stout leather strap.
Frank Armstrong at Queens Page 5