We meet to-night
To celebrate
The Omega Lambda Chi!”
The tune was supposed to be that of “Sailing, Sailing, Over the Deep Blue Sea,” but some of the men sang it to any old tune. They were not particular as long as they could whoop ’er up to the full capacity of their voices.
Somehow it had been noised around among the freshmen that the sophs had already made a move and got the start on them by spiriting away their leader; but when they looked around to confirm the truth of this, or detect its falsity, there was Dade Morgan, with his particular friends about him, and big Starbright, surrounded by his set, both ready for anything that might happen.
“It’s a bluff!” declared the freshmen. “But it’s a mighty poor one.”
And Boltwood was not missed at all, which must have given Ready a feeling of chagrin and perplexity, had he known it.
Usually the beginning of the singing was the signal for the seniors to fall into line and start the ball to rolling, but to-night there seemed to be delay, while the singing continued, growing louder and louder. There was hurrying and skurrying among the seniors. Their leader was not on hand.
“Where is Merriwell?” was the question.
They sent to Frank’s room, but the messenger came back with the information that he was not there. Then it was found that he had not been at his eating-club, and no one remembered having seen him for an hour or more.