"Play louder!" shouted another.
"He's playing on the open strings all the time!" exclaimed a third. "Make him move his fingers, won't you?"
Frank caught this idea at once, and, throwing his left arm around Rattleton's shoulders, he moved his fingers up and down on Rattleton's chest as if he were touching the strings of an instrument. Meantime he kept up his grunting and humming as loud as he knew how.
The seniors roared with merriment. Rattleton was shaking with laughter, and the three solemn juniors against the wall looked as if they would explode.
Frank was perspiring in the effort to do the thing as ridiculously as he knew how, and yet keep his face straight.
"Oh, but look here!" cried Baker, suddenly, "this won't do!"
He took out his memorandum book, and all the students followed suit.
Frank stopped fiddling.
"Keep on until I tell you to stop!" cried Baker. "That's a black mark, anyway."
In despair of ever doing anything right, Frank began to saw away again for dear life.