Scott could not help feeling nervous, but it did not seem to worry Johnson.
“You don’t know that we have not been doing it,” he answered flippantly. “It won’t be the first goat I have ridden, and I don’t believe he can out-butt the old ram I tried to herd in Wyoming one summer.”
“You’ll have a good chance for comparison, anyway,” said Ormand rising. “Come on, Morgan, let’s go prepare the torture chamber at the clubhouse.”
The new men at the table responded with varying degrees of bravado according to their natures, but a very apparent feeling of nervous excitement pervaded everyone except Johnson. Nothing could perturb his cheerful good humor.
“Cheer up, Tubby,” he cried to a stout freshman who sat opposite him. “They may sting you a little but there is no chance of their striking a bone. And look at little Steve over there with a face a mile long. Don’t you know they dasent touch you for fear of breaking your glasses?”
In two minutes he had broken the spell and had them all at ease. The self-reliance he had gained through his life of hard knocks was infectious. He enjoyed the influence that it gave him over the others, and he lorded it over them on all occasions, but always in a way that pleased them.
“Now,” he said with a patronizing air, “all of you kids go home, put on two pairs of trousers apiece, and be at the clubhouse at seven o’clock sharp. Come on, Scotty, let’s go read up a little on the nocturnal habits of that sportive goat.”
Scott recognized the subtle influence which Johnson exercised over his classmates and admired his power. He even smiled at the readiness with which he himself left his dessert half eaten to obey his orders.
The football game had made them late for supper and all those who wished to join the forestry club had to be at the clubhouse at seven sharp. They had little time to spare. Scott was at a loss how to dress to do the proper honor to the rites at the clubhouse and yet be ready for the campfire. Johnson suffered from no such perplexity.
“Believe me, Scotty, you can wear your dress suit if you want to, but the ‘sacred rites’ at the clubhouse can, in my humble opinion, be observed a good deal more appropriately in sweater and overalls.”