[CHAPTER XII]
A RUNAWAY ICEBOAT
“How are we going to get it to him?” asked Bert Wilson, as the Latin class, its members having finished their punishment, filed out on the campus.
“Mail it to him,” suggested Jack.
“No, leave it at his door,” advised Henry Miller.
“Huh! Who’d do it?” asked George Abbot.
“There you go again, Why!” exclaimed Tom with a laugh, as he passed around the warning he had composed.
“Well, I mean who would have the nerve to go up and leave that at Skeel’s door?” went on the small lad. “I wouldn’t.”
“I would!” declared Tom. “I’m tired of being imposed upon!”
“And so am I!” exclaimed Jack. “I’m with you. Let’s get a lot of Freshmen, tog up in masks, or with pillow cases over our heads, and leave the warning at his door. That’ll make him be more decent, I guess.”
“All right,” agreed Tom. “We’ll do it.”