“But I can’t get out while he’s on guard, for he wouldn’t hesitate to wallop me. And when he comes in to breakfast his sister will relieve him. I am certainly up against it!
“Hold on, though! Maybe he forgot to bolt the door!”
It was a vain hope. Though Jack had not heard him do it, the professor had softly slid the bolt across as he went out of the boy’s room, and our hero was practically a prisoner in his own apartment.
And this on a beautiful Saturday, when there was no school and when the first practice baseball game of the season was to be played. Is it any wonder that Jack was indignant?
“It’s about time they brought me something to eat,” he thought, as he heard a clock somewhere in the house strike nine. “I’m getting hungry.”
He had little fear on the score that the professor would starve him, for the old college instructor was not quite as mean as that, and, in a short time, Miss Klopper appeared with a tray containing Jack’s breakfast.
“I should think you would be ashamed of yourself,” she said. “The idea of repaying my brother’s kindness by such acts! You are a wicked boy!”
Jack wondered where any special kindness on the part of the professor came in, but he did not say anything to the old maid whose temper was even more sour than her brother’s. Since his parents had left him with the professor, Jack had never been treated with real kindness. Perhaps Mr. Klopper did not intend to be mean, but he was such a deep student that all who did not devote most of their time to study and research earned his profound contempt. While Jack was a good boy, and a fairly good student, he liked sports and fun, and these the professor detested. So, when he found that his ward did not intend to apply himself closely to his books, Professor Klopper began “putting the screws on,” as Jack termed it.
Matters had gone from bad to worse, until the boy was now in a really desperate state. His naturally good temper had been spoiled by a series of petty fault-findings, and he had been so hedged about by the professor and his sister that he was ripe for almost anything.
All that day he remained in his room, becoming more and more angry at his imprisonment as the hours passed.