He was in too much of a rage to retire again, and as soon as he had dressed he came out to hunt up the boys. They were waiting for him, fearful that he would inform Professor Strong of the affair. Fortunately the professor had been in the smoking room at the time and he as yet knew nothing of what had occurred.
“See here,” began Hockley. “I want to know who played that trick on me.”
“I don’t think you’ll find out,” answered Mark.
“I’m going to tell the professor. My berth is soaked with water and I came pretty close to cutting my foot on a piece of glass on the floor.”
“Didn’t step into any pitch, did you?” asked Sam, dryly.
“I say I am going to tell the professor,” went on Hockley, working himself up into a magnificent rage.
“I don’t think you will tell him,” answered Darry, steadily. “You thought it a fine thing to put off that pitch joke on my shoulders, didn’t you? Now I guess I’ve paid you back, so we are quits.”
“So you did it?” howled Hockley. “I’m going to Professor Strong this minute and show him the berth——”
“If you do I’ll show him something else.”
“What?”