Jack then turned his attention to the other members of the party of hazers and discharged another gun at them, holding it in his left hand.
This was worse than the first, for it contained assafœtida instead of ammonia.
The stench was something dreadful, and two of the hazers got full doses of the stuff directly in their faces.
Jack was on the windward side of it or he could not have endured the horrible smell.
The victims simply fell on the ground and began to vomit in spite of themselves.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! I’m poisoned!” wailed Holt, who was one of the fellows dosed. “Oh! get me some water. Oh, dear! I shall die, I know I shall!”
“You need a good cleaning out,” laughed Jack, who had no sympathy whatever for the sneak. “You are dirty enough inside and out to make it necessary. Turn yourself inside out. You need it.”
The other victim was retching and gasping and groaning by turns and all at once, but Jack only laughed.
If one had been in pain and needed his help, no one could have been more sympathetic, but in this case the victim was simply getting his deserts, and the boy wasted no sympathy upon him.
“Oh! I am poisoned, I know I am!” howled Holt. “Go send for a doctor. I know I am going to die!”