“Disgraceful?” cried Doctor Wallington. “Not at all, sir. Let the young men enjoy themselves. They are doing no harm.”
“I don’t like so much noise,” snapped Asa Sharp, and retired to the college building.
“I’ve got about a dozen packs of firecrackers,” said Tom, a little later. “We mustn’t forget to shoot them off.”
“Pass ’em around, Tom!” cried Stanley, and the firecrackers were quickly distributed.
“Come on and give old Filbury a scare,” suggested Spud, and before anybody could stop him he went off after the old man who worked around the dormitories. He found Filbury on a step-ladder, fixing a lamp, and he very quietly pinned his firecrackers to the old man’s coat tail.
“What do you want, sir?” asked the old man, as he started to come down the step-ladder.
“I wanted to ask you if you knew where my baseball was,” asked Spud, innocently.
“No, I don’t know nuthing about baseballs,” growled Filbury. He sniffed the air. “Say, smells like something burning around here!” he cried. “Did any of them fireworks set fire to the buildings?”
“I guess not,” answered Spud. “But about that ball——”
Crack! bang! crack! went a number of the firecrackers and poor Filbury leaped several feet into the air. Then he turned hastily around.