“Faster! Faster! Run, don’t crawl!” was shouted at them, and run they did.
All sorts of things happened to them. They fell down, and got up. They stumbled and were buffeted on all sides. Nor were the blows gentle, some in fact being staggering ones.
That the buffetings were too rough was evidenced when one of the unseen initiators called out sharply:
“Here, cut some of that out! We don’t want to lame ’em.”
“I’ll do as I please!” was the retort, and Jerry was sure the last speaker was Frank Watson.
“He’s taking advantage of us now and making his blows as hard as possible,” thought Jerry, “but we won’t squeal.”
Nor did he, while Bob and Ned also bore it all bravely.
The initiation, while rough, was not unduly so for a secret society, and the three chums had been through worse experiences.
Finally, after they had rolled down some sort of inclined way plentifully sprinkled with bumps, and had been tossed up in a blanket, they were led together to some spot, and a voice said: