Tess of the Storm Country Part 10

"That's just a little reminder for you to do as you are told, Spuddy,"

the wielder of the "Mazuka" laughed.

"Here's the dinner, boys," cried Hall, "and I bet you can't imagine what we've brought you.... Do you know what that is, 'Shorts'?"

Brown s.h.i.+vered, for something snake-like and cold was drawn across his cheek.

"It's an angle worm," continued the speaker, "and you're going to eat it.... Don't be afraid, 'Spuddy,' you needn't wiggle, you are going to have one, too," he added the last part of the sentence, seeing a shudder pa.s.s over the form of the other blindfolded boy.

"Keep your mouths wide open," shouted a senior.

Simultaneously the two boys felt the promised but undesirable dinner drop into their mouths. With a groan Oscar Brown rolled over on his side and allowed his portion to fall slowly out. But Jimmy Preston, amid howls of joy from the onlookers, jumped to his feet and tore the bandage from his eyes.

"No fraternity for me," he yelled. "I've never heard of such a dirty trick. If you fellows--"

His disgusted gaze fell upon the plate held by a soph.o.m.ore convulsed with laughter. Jimmy rubbed his eyes, blinked, and looked again--blank astonishment taking the place of his anger. In the dish were only a few strings of cold cooked macaroni.

"Golly! What a fool I am," and Jimmy glanced about upon the grinning faces with a sheepish air.

"That's what you are alright," said Manchester, trying to be serious and securing a better grip upon the carpet beater. "Who said you could take that bandage off. That will cost you five strokes of the 'Mazuka.' ...

Here, fellows, hold him on his stomach over that chair, so that I can get in some of my fine strokes.... One ... two ... three ... four ...

five ..."

Jimmy was jerked to his feet, the injured expression upon his sorrowful face plainly showing Manchester that his strokes had been telling ones.

"There! We're through with you for to-night, 'Spuddy,' old boy," said Manchester, proudly feeling his biceps. "Go sit down ... if you can,"

and Jimmy limped away with a muttered "thank heaven."

During a conference in undertones, amid giggling and snickering, Richard unfolded a new plan. Then he said in a loud voice,

"One of you fellows see if the surgeon is here yet. And hurry back."

Billy Dillon who had remained in trembling silence during the proceedings, received his bandage without a complaint, although his face was ashy pale, and his knees shook beneath him as Hall approached.

What did they want a doctor for? They surely wouldn't do--anything bad enough to need a surgeon. Thoughts like these went racing through his frightened mind, the soph.o.m.ore leading him in terrifying darkness to a chair near by. Silence fell upon the room, and all that Billy could hear was his own excited breathing, made louder by the explosive beats of his heart.

"Swipes," he heard Hall say, "we've decided that we can't stand that pretty face of yours around, but as we like you and don't want to send you away, we will change the expression on it. A gash on each of those rosy cheeks will alter your whole appearance, so much, that not one of your lady friends will ever recognize you again. In after days, when you grow to be a man, you will thank us for this. Frank, tell Dr. Wallace to come in."

A pause ... and Billy heard the door open and close, and someone coming toward him, the person smelling strongly of drugs.

"Is this the unfortunate young man," asked a strange, but not altogether unfamiliar voice.

"Yes," Billy heard Hall answer in heartbroken tones, "and please, doctor, do the best you can for him."

"Oh, we'll fix him alright in just about a minute," responded the strange voice. "Mr. Hall, will you please hold his arms, for when patients are excited they sometimes forget themselves, and ... now ...

my instruments, please."

Billy's arms were held tightly behind him, and for a moment he heard nothing--then came to his ears the sound of a box being unclasped and--horror of horrors--the rattle of surgical instruments.

Would they dare cut his face? Why his father would--

Billy felt the cold blade of the knife touch his flesh, and hot blood run down to his chin.

Upon this he became possessed by the strength of a giant. Jerking his hands loose he struck out with all his might, his fist hitting something with the force of a kicking donkey. There was a sound of some one falling and a roar of laughter went up from the students as Billy was grasped by what seemed a thousand hands. The bandage was s.n.a.t.c.hed from his eyes and he looked upon a sorry sight. Manchester, the expert wielder of the Mazuka, had failed as a surgeon. He lay a few feet away amid pieces of broken ice, which he had pretended was a surgical knife--his coat bespotted with hot milk which represented poor Billy's blood, and his left hand clasped tightly over a swollen eye.

"What hit me?" gasped the fict.i.tious Dr. Wallace.

"What hit Manchester, fellows?" one of the seniors managed to howl out to the convulsed fraternity members.

"I believe that rascally freshman did it," exclaimed Manchester excitedly, "bring me the 'Mazuka,' and I'll put a bunch on him that never will come off."

"Gee Whiz! Look at his eye," some one called out.

This brought Manchester to a standstill.

"What's the matter with it," he groaned, putting his hand again to his face, "is it gone?"

The lids were puffed shut, and were rapidly darkening. Richard Hall, laughing uproariously, held a pocket mirror for the young soph.o.m.ore to peep into. After a moment's contemplation of his bruised face, Manchester came forth in a hoa.r.s.e whisper,

"That freshman's got to die--If I only ... had an ax," and his one eye gazed wildly around in search of a weapon.

"Come, come, Teddy Manchester," soothed a tall senior, "we'll arrange with the freshman alright. Don't work yourself into unnecessary excitement."

"And he shall use all his spending money for your tobacco, Teddy, for the entire year," cajoled Hall, "and black your boots and brush your clothes, into the bargain, and besides you will get a chance to get even at the Freshmen's Banquet," he whispered.

"Gentlemen," he concluded, turning with a winning smile upon the a.s.sembled society, "we have five new members in the 'Cranium'

Fraternity."

CHAPTER X

Minister Graves' city home, the Rectory, was a magnificent house, covered with a thick growth of ivy; one bay window ornamenting it on the west, another looking on the street.

The first evening in November, the family was seated about the table, the minister reading the evening paper. "Babe" was arguing with her mother that all little girls should be allowed to roller skate upon the pavement; that "there wasn't a bit of danger in it."

Frederick was silently eating his dinner--Teola following his example.

Suddenly the minister e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed:

"Ah, that's good."

"What's good, father?" inquired Mrs. Graves.

"Skinner is brought to trial to-morrow. The paper says there isn't the slightest hope for him to escape. And listen to this:

"Of all the happenings in the annals of the Ithaca courts the following is the most extraordinary. Orn Skinner, the squatter, who is to be tried this week for the murder of Emery Stebbins, the game warden, is the father of a girl some fifteen years old. The day after his incarceration the girl presented herself at the office of the sheriff, asking permission to see her father. The sheriff thought wiser not and refused the request. But the night before last the girl was discovered ascending, like a squirrel, the thick growth of ivy that covers the stone structure of the jail. For nearly a month she has been tramping the Lehigh Valley railroad tracks after dark, reaching the jail at midnight, and holding converse with her father on the stone sill of his cell window, two stories above the ground. The girl was closely questioned but refused to answer, probably fearing the consequences of visiting a prisoner without the consent of the sheriff. Skinner has been removed to an inner cell, the authorities fearing some plan of escape.

The girl is very pretty, with long red hair, and brown eyes, and those who have seen her say that she is like a frightened rabbit, refusing to talk with any, save a few of her kind."