“No, sir.”
Mr. Alsop went upstairs, called out every occupant of every room, and put to all the same question. Fowle and Archer he asked twice. Peck was out, and so was Lord’s room-mate. Otherwise the entire well was canvassed. After the cross-examination was concluded, the teacher gathered the whole company into his room.
“Some one has told me a falsehood,” he began solemnly. “I do not know who it is, but I can guess. To that person I want to say that I consider a lie as much worse than setting off crackers, as crackers are worse than an ordinary rough-house. The one who is responsible will do well to come to me and confess the truth. The rest of you who are shielding the guilty one should remember that by keeping silent you assume a share in the guilt. If I can’t have order in this well by any other means, I’ll put the whole well on study hours, and if that doesn’t answer, it will have to be cleaned out altogether. The school has no use for rowdies.”
This last threat Mr. Alsop did not really mean, as it would have involved firing the studious Moorhead, the good John Fish, and the cherub Rand,—the sweetest, most friendly, most diligent little boy that Mr. Alsop had on his list. But instances were known of whole dormitory wells ruthlessly swept clear at an indignation meeting of an offended faculty. Fowle and Archer as the scapegoats of the well foresaw trouble for themselves, at any rate, whatever punishments were inflicted. They got together soon after Mr. Alsop’s audience was dismissed, and held wrathful council. At the end they picked up Taylor and moved down on John Fish, who opened his door a crack to see who was knocking, and then opened it wide because a big foot prevented its being closed.
“I’m getting popular,” he said, smiling feebly at his visitors.
“Not with this gang!” said Taylor, as he shut the door behind him.
“You set off that cracker!” blurted Sam, with suppressed fierceness.
“I didn’t.”
“You lie! You did,” retorted Sam. “You know you did. We want to give you warning that this funny business has got to stop. You know that Fowle and I get the credit if anything happens here, whether we’re in it or not. If we get soaked by Alsop for anything that’s done hereafter, we’ll maul you so that you can’t stand!”
Fish looked at the trio in apprehension. Archer’s fight with Runyon had passed into dormitory history; he was regarded as a dangerous man. Fowle and Taylor were solid fellows, the latter a member of his class football team. Fish himself, though easily superior to the smaller occupants of the well, would have shrunk from single combat with any one of the militant trio. His chance against them all would have been very poor indeed.