"Here comes the trolley!" shouted Jasniff. "Now, Bond, take it easy when they run over you!"
"Don't throw the trolley off the track," added Plum, brutally.
The trolley came along swiftly in the semi-darkness, and as it approached Frank Bond let out a piercing scream for help. He was now completely beside himself with fear.
"Don't, don't! Help!" he screamed. "Save me! Save me!" And then he began to foam at the mouth.
With a rush and a roar the trolley car came on. The poor boy on the turnout track thought sure it was going to run over him and struggled madly to get free. Then, just as the trolley swept beside him, he broke his bonds, leaped to his feet, and stepped blindly toward the car. His arm struck the back platform and he was hurled backward. Then the trolley, with its gleaming headlight, swept on its way, the motorman taking no notice of what had happened.
"He's hurt!" was the cry from Messmer.
"It's the little beggar's own fault," said Gus Plum, but his voice trembled as he spoke.
"Oh, I am killed! I am killed!" cried Frank, struggling to his feet and throwing the bandage from his eyes. He was foaming at the mouth, and bleeding both at the head and on the hand. "Don't let the trolley go over me again! Save me! Save me!" And then, with a bound, he turned and disappeared into the bushes and trees which lined the trolley road at this point.
"He has gone mad!" whispered one of the boys, hoarsely.
"As mad as a March hare," was the comment of another of the students. "Come back, Frank! It's all right!" he called out.