Tom Fairfield's Hunting Trip; or, Lost in the Wilderness

by F. S. Brereton

  CHAPTER V

  OFF TO CAMP

  Tom Fairfield disposed himself comfortably on the bed before replying.There was room there, now, for the food and drink had been disposed of.Tom stretched out, finished a half-consumed sardine sandwich, and wenton.

  "You know old Efficiency, don't you?" began Tom, with tantalizingslowness.

  "I should say we did!" came in a whispered chorus.

  "The prof who's always lecturing on improving your opportunities, isn'the?" asked a student who had not been at Elmwood very long.

  "That's the one," resumed Tom. "You know he claims we all eat and drinktoo much. He holds that a person should find the minimum amount of foodon which he can live, and take no more than that."

  "I've had more than my share to-night, all right," comfortably murmuredJack.

  "And Efficiency, as we call him," went on Tom, "is a hater of feastingof any sort, unless it be a feast of reason. I think he lives on halfa cracker and a gill of milk a day, or something like that."

  "Well, what's the idea?" asked Bert, impatiently.

  "This," answered Tom, calmly. "We will take the remains of our herewithfeast, the broken victuals, the things in which they were contained,the empty tins, the depleted bottles, and deposit them on the doorstepof the domicile of Professor Hazeltine, otherwise known as OldEfficiency. When they are seen there it will show to the world that hedoes not practice what he preaches."

  There was silence for a moment following Tom's announcement, and thencame chuckles and smothered laughter.

  "Say, that's a good one all right!"

  "It sure is!"

  "Ha! Ha! Ha! It takes Tom Fairfield to think 'em out!"

  "Easy there!" Bert cautioned them. "You'll give the whole snap away, ifyou're not careful."

  "Well, shall we do it?" asked Tom.

  "I should say we will!" declared Jack.

  "Then gather up the stuff and come along, a few at a time," advised theringleader. "We don't want to make too much noise."

  A little later dark and silent figures might have been observedstealing across the school campus, carrying various objects. The frontstoop of the professor, who was such a stickler for efficiency and themaximum of effect with the minimum of effort, was in the shadow, andsoon it was piled high with many things.

  Emptied sardine tins, olive bottles which contained only the appetizingodor, pasteboard cartons of crackers or other cakes, ginger-ale bottleswith only a few drops of the beverage in the bottom, papers and paperbags, the pasteboard circlets from Charlotte russes--these and manymore things from the forbidden midnight feast were piled on the steps.Then the conspirators stole away, one by one, as they had come.

  Tom Fairfield lingered last to make a more artistic arrangement of theempty bottles; then he, too, joined his chums.

  "I rather guess that'll make 'em lie down and close their eyes," hesaid, in distinction to the process of "sitting up and taking notice."

  "It sure will," agreed Jack, with a chuckle.

  There were whispered good-nights, pre-holiday greetings and then thestudents sought their rooms, for there was a limit beyond which theydid not want to stretch matters.

  In the morning they were sufficiently rewarded for their efforts--ifrewarded be the proper word.

  Professor Hazeltine, going to his front door to get his early morningpaper, saw the array of bottles and debris. At first he could notbelieve the evidence of his eyesight, but a second look convinced himthat he could not be mistaken.

  "The shame of it!" he murmured. "The shame of that disgraceful gorgingof food. They must be made an example of--no matter who they are. Theshame of it! I shall report them! Oh, the waste here represented! Theshameful waste of food! I suppose all that is here represented wasconsumed in a single night. It might have lasted a month. I shall seethat they are punished, not only for their disgraceful action in thuslittering my stoop, but for gorging themselves like beasts!"

  But the professor forgot one thing, namely, that to punish a culpritone must first know who he is, and how to catch him. It was the oldapplication of first get your rabbit, though doubtless the professorwould have changed the proverb to some milder form of food.

  However, he took up his paper, ordered the servant to remove thedebris, and then proceeded to his simple breakfast of a certainbran-like food mingled with milk, a bit of dry toast and a cup ofcorn-coffee. After which, bristling with as much indignation as hecould summon on such cold and clammy food, he went to Dr. Meredith andcomplained.

  The Head smiled tolerantly.

  "You must remember that it is the holiday season," he said. "Boys willbe boys."

  "But, Doctor, I do not so much object to the disgraceful exhibitionthey made of me. I can stand that. No one who knows me, or myprinciples, would think for a moment that I could consume the amount offood represented there."

  "No, I think you would be held guiltless of that," agreed the President.

  "But it is the fact that the young men--our students--could so demeanthemselves like beasts as to partake of so much gross food," went onProfessor Hazeltine. "After all my talks, showing the amount of workthat can be done, mental and physical, on a simple preparation of wholewheat, to think of them having eaten sardines, smoked beef, cannedtongue, potted ham, canned chicken--for I found tins representing allthose things on my steps, Dr. Meredith. It was awful!"

  "Yes, the boys must have had a bountiful feast," agreed the Presidentwith a sigh.

  Was it a sigh of regret that his days for enjoying such forbiddenmidnight "feeds" were over? For he was human.

  "I want those boys punished, not so much for what they did to me as fortheir own sakes," demanded Professor Hazeltine. "They must learn thatthe brain works best on lighter foods, and that to clog the body withgross meat is but to stop the delicate machinery of the----"

  "Yes, yes, I know," said Dr. Meredith, a bit wearily. He had heardall that before. "Well, I suppose the boys did do wrong, and if youwill bring me their names, I will speak to them. Bring me their names,Professor Hazeltine."

  But that was easier said than done. Not that "Efficiency" did not makethe effort, but it was a hopeless task. Of course none of the boyswould "peach," and no one else knew who had been involved.

  Professor Hazeltine came in for some fun, mildly poked at him by othermembers of the faculty.

  "I understand you had quite a banquet over at your house last night,"remarked Professor Wirt.

  "It was--disgraceful!" exploded the aggrieved one, and he went on topoint out how the human body could live for weeks on a purely cerealdiet, with cold water only for drinking purposes.

  So the boys had their fun; at least, it was fun for them, and no greatharm was done. Nor did Professor Hazeltine discover who were theculprits.

  The school was about to close for the long holiday vacation. Alreadysome of the students, living at a distance, had departed. There werethe final days, when discipline was more than ever relaxed. Fewlectures were given, and fewer attended.

  Then came the last day, when farewells echoed over the campus.

  "Good-bye! Good-bye!"

  "Merry Christmas!"

  "Happy New Year!"

  "See you after the holidays!"

  "Get together now, fellows, a last cheer for old Elmwood Hall! We won'tsee her again until next year!"

  Tom Fairfield led in the cheering, and then, gathering his particularchums about him, gave a farewell song. Then followed cheers for Dr.Meredith, and someone called:

  "Three cheers for Professor Hazeltine! May his digestion never growworse!"

  The cheers were given with a will, ending with a burst of laughter, forthe professor in question was observed to be shaking his fist at thestudents out of his window. He had not forgiven the midnight feast andits ending.

  "Well, we'll soon be on our way," said Tom to Bert, Jack and George, asthey sat together in the railroad train, for they all lived in the samepart of New Jersey, and were on their way home.

  "What's the plan?" aske
d George.

  "We'll all meet at my house," proposed Tom, "and go to New York Cityfrom there. Then we can take the express for the Adirondacks. We go toa small station called Hemlock Junction, and travel the rest of thedistance in a sleigh. We'll go to No. 1 Camp first, and see how we likeit. If we can't get enough game there, we'll go on to the other camps.As I told you, we'll have the use of all three. None of the members ofthe club will be up there this season."

  "But will whoever is in charge let us in?" asked Jack.

  "Yes, all arrangements have been made," Tom said. "There is grub upthere, bedclothes, and everything. All we'll take is our clothes, gunsand cameras."

  "Yes, don't forget the cameras," urged Bert. "I expect to get some finesnapshots up there."

  "And I hope we get some good gun-shots," put in Tom. "We're going on ahunting trip, please remember."

  The time of preparation passed quickly, and a few days later, andshortly after Christmas, the boys found themselves in the Grand CentralStation, New York, ready to take the train for camp.

  They piled their belongings about them in the parlor car, and thenproceeded to talk of the delights ahead of them, delights in whichtheir fellow passengers shared, for they listened with evident pleasureto the conversation of our friends.