But mere words never did any good yet, and Professor Skeel knew this. He must act, and he resolved to hit on some plan that would give him the victory. But first blood had been drawn by the students, and he realized that.
He decided to remain in his lecture room until the period was up, in order that he might think, and so that none of his fellow members on the faculty would not ask embarrassing questions as to how his class had disappeared.
“I’ll get even with them,” he declared. “They shall beg my pardon, and do more work than ever before.”
He decided that he must first lay the matter before Doctor Meredith, for he could not act on his own initiative. He would ask that stringent measures be taken. With this in view, at the time when Tom and his chums were filing into history class, as if nothing had happened, Professor Skeel sought the head master.
There was a little feeling of nervousness on the part of our hero and his associates as they faced Professor Whitely, who had ancient history at his finger tips, but, though he had heard some rumors of trouble in the Freshman Latin class, he did not refer to it, but plunged at once into the work of the day.
Nor did anything take place during the remainder of the lectures which filled up time until about two o’clock. In the meantime, however, Professor Skeel had placed the matter before Doctor Meredith.
“They went on strike, you say?” asked the head master. “Bless my soul! I never heard of such a thing! I have known laboring bodies to refuse to work, but how can students strike?”
“By refusing to recite, or to remain in class,” answered the Professor.
“And did the Freshmen do that?”
“They certainly did.”