[CHAPTER VIII]
THE CALL OF THE PIGSKIN
“Maybe it’s Professor Skeel,” whispered George, apprehensively.
“Or Merry himself,” added Jack.
“Nonsense!” replied Tom. “Neither of them would be in our dormitory at this hour.”
“Unless they got wise to the fact that we went out, and they’re laying to catch us when we come in,” declared Bert. “If I’m nabbed I hope my dad doesn’t hear of it.”
“Come on, fellows,” came in a shrill whisper from Bruce. “It’s only Demy, our studious janitor. He’s boning over some book, and if you help him with his conjugation, or demonstrate a geometric proposition for him, he’ll let you burn the school down and say nothing about it. Come on; it’s all right.”
They entered through the door, which was not locked, so that Bruce did not have to use his key, and at their advance, into what was a sort of storeroom of the basement, the studious janitor looked up from a book he was reading.
“Well, well!” he exclaimed. “Is this—ahem! young gentleman, I hardly know what——”
“It’s all right, Demy,” interrupted Bruce with a laugh. “I brought ’em in. They want to help you do a little—let’s see what you’re at, anyhow?” and he looked at the book.
“It’s Horace,” said the janitor. “I want to read some of his odes in the original, but the translating is very hard, to say the least. Still, I am determined to get an education while I have the chance.”