“By heavens! I believe he is dying!”
These exclamations came from their lips, and they were not calculated to soothe the feelings of the struggling freshman. Ready succeeded in spitting out the rubber tube.
“Let me die!” he implored. “Death will be sweet relief!”
“He must be saved!” roared the master. “Hold him fast! Don’t let him wiggle an eyebrow! Now insert the tube again!”
They pried Jack’s jaws apart and thrust the tube into his mouth once more. Then the master made a frantic gesture, and the fellow with the pump, to which the rubber tubing was attached, began to work it, while the bucket was held as a receptacle. Something poured from the nozzle of the pump and spurted into the bucket. There was a rattling sound. Slop, thud, smash—what did it mean?
The assembled sophomores looked on with astonishment, as it seemed.
“Remarkable!” they exclaimed. “He must have a stomach like a goat!”
Despite his agony, Ready began to feel curious. What was happening? He tried to look into the bucket, but he was held fast by the hair of his head, so that he could not do so.
In a few moments the man with the pump said:
“It is over, gentlemen. I have drawn everything out of his stomach. I believe it will save him!”