“Prepare to meet your fate,” came from a deep voice immediately in front of them.
More than one man in the crowd trembled so that the links of his handcuffs clinked audibly. Scott, now that the time had really come, felt perfectly calm.
After a few seconds’ pause a long screen of burlap dropped from in front of them and they saw the upper classmen of the club standing in a semi-circle around a small campfire.
Ormand, the president of the club, stepped forward a few paces. “Gentlemen, let me introduce you to the new members of our club. And for you, new members, may your enthusiasm for the club and the College never be less than your surprise at the present moment. Release them.”
The guards quickly unlocked the handcuffs, and the astonished “victims” looked uneasily about them, not knowing what to expect. But the upper classmen came forward to welcome them, and they found themselves really accepted on an equal footing with the rest. Their stunned expression brought forth shouts of laughter.
Johnson was the first to recover. “Well, fellows,” he admitted with a grin, “as I was telling you, I have ridden several goats before and some of them were pretty rough riding, but none of them ever shook me up like this.”
The tension was broken, and the reaction turned the crowd of half stunned men into an hilarious bunch of boys. They danced around the campfire in dizzying circles, and the fantastic shadows flashed weirdly through the surrounding forest. At last they settled down in a contented circle, and the entertainment committee rolled out a barrel of apples, a barrel of cider, a bushel of peanuts and a set of boxing gloves.
They were all hailed with a shout of welcome, but some of the new members looked rather anxiously at the padded gloves. Sam Hepburn, the chairman of the entertainment committee, explained the program.
“Pile in, fellows,” he cried, “and help yourselves. Don’t be bashful. I reckon you all know how to eat, if you don’t, watch Pudge Manning. But we must have some entertainment while we eat. Since we have no orchestra to dispense sweet music, we shall try another form of amusement not unknown to the ancient Gormans. I have here in this hat the names of all the old members. Each new man must draw a slip. In addition to the name each slip has a number on it. Each man must box for two minutes with the man he draws, and the bouts will be pulled off according to the numbers on the slips. I’ll pass around the hat. Each man must draw one and only one.”
The hat was passed quickly around the circle and the drawers examined the slips eagerly to see what sort of opponents they had drawn. There were sighs of relief from some and groans of despair from others.