“O, such hazing as that is a thing of the past,” replied Jones; and this assurance was very comforting to the three boys from Long Island. “The last time it was tried was when Duncan, Fisher and their crowd, took Sam Arkwright out of his bed in the attic, with the intention of ducking him in the Big Pond. They got him out on the ice, but before they could stick him in, Don Gordon came up and spoiled their little game. At first they thought they would put him and his brother in too; but Don handled Duncan, who was the bully of the school, with so much ease, that the others were afraid to touch him. More than that, they dared not attempt to haze any other plebe, for Don hinted very plainly that those who tried it would have to answer to him for it.”
“It is a fact,” said Lester, seeing that Dale looked a little incredulous. “One single plebe backed a class of seventy-five yearlings square down.”
“You needn’t speak of it in a tone so contemptuous,” said Jones, warmly. “You are a yearling now, and you and your class are at liberty to start the hazing business going again, if you feel so inclined. I dare you to do it.”
Jones knew that he was perfectly safe in saying this, and so did Enoch. We know that Lester was just the one to urge others on to performances of this kind, and he would have looked upon the attempt of some unlucky plebe to climb Zion’s hill to a tune of his own singing as an interesting spectacle; but the promise of the lieutenant-colonel’s silver leaf at the close of the next examination, would not have induced him to take an active part in the proceedings. Don’s big heart would not let him stand quietly by and see a helpless student imposed upon, and Lester knew it. By his victory over Clarence Duncan Don had broken up the barbarous practice of hazing most effectually.
Just then a door at the farther end of the hall was opened, and five boys came out. Three of them were dressed in citizen’s clothes, and the other two were in uniform. One of the latter was a short, thick-set fellow, who wore his hands in his pockets, and bent so far forward when he laughed that he showed the silver ornaments in his shoulder-straps. The other was considerably taller, and straight as an arrow and looked every inch the soldier. That the two in uniform were officers of rank was made evident by the actions of a party of students who were sitting on a bench near the door, waiting for an opportunity to report their arrival to the adjutant. They arose to their feet as one boy, and raised their hands to their caps; while the officers and their civilian companions, after returning the salute, stepped forward and shook hands with them in the most friendly manner.
“I’ll bet they won’t be so condescending when they go by this crowd,” said Lester, in a tone of disgust.
“Who are they, any way?” asked Morris.
“The two in uniform wear the brass collars among the students,” replied Jones. “The short one is Colonel Mack, and the other is Major Gordon, the lieutenant’s brother.”
“Isn’t that enough to convince you that promotions in this school go by favor of the teachers?” demanded Lester. “Two commissions in one family!”
“The other three are Egan, Hopkins and Curtis—graduates who are taking the finishing course,” continued Jones, paying no attention to Lester’s ill-humored remarks. “They are all chums, and when you see one of them loafing around, you may be sure that the others are not far away. They even spend their vacations together, putting in the time in hunting and fishing—all except the colonel, who thinks more of his books than he does of a gun or fly-rod. They went up into Maine last fall, and while they were camping out in the woods, the major killed a full-grown moose.”