“Hello!” exclaimed the freshman. “I didn’t notice you.”
Again he captured the sandwich, determined to be on his guard for both of them. With considerable haste he lifted it, but he did not get a bite, for a man on the opposite side of the table reached across and rapped him on the knuckles with a cane, so that he dropped the sandwich.
“Wow!” whooped Jack. “What kind of a game is this? How much do those sandwiches cost? I’ll buy one of them!”
The lunch continued as if they were not aware of his presence at the table. Some one moved the sandwiches farther along, so they were not within easy reach, but a plate of tempting-looking tarts took the place of the sandwiches.
“Well, hanged if they don’t mean not to let me have anything to eat!” muttered Jack. “The mean devils! But they can’t keep it up. Here is where I get something!”
He grabbed a tart off the plate and thrust the whole of it into his mouth. The tart had been piled high with what seemed to be very tempting and delicious jelly, but Jack had barely begun to chew upon it when he turned and ejected it from his mouth, uttering a howl of surprise and agony.
“Whoop!” he roared. “I’m killed! Wow! Fire! fire! My mouth—oh, my mouth!”
He seemed to be having convulsions. Of a sudden, all the men at the table seemed greatly concerned over him.
“What’s the matter?” they asked.
“Matter?” howled Jack. “Ghost of Cæsar! that thing was red-hot! It’s burned the lining out of my mouth!”