“Anyhow,” he exclaimed angrily, “I’ll not be a party to it. I’ll not be a party to letting every young scoundrel who flaunts defiance in the face of the faculty go scot free.”
Jervis’ angry departure gave the youths a strong hint that they were to be permitted to escape punishment, and fifteen minutes later, after listening to a scathing reprimand, they emerged upon the campus with the weight lifted.
“Come on, fellows,” said Larry Kirkland; “let’s get back that pig. Professor Schermer is one of the squarest little men in the world and we ought to do anything to repay him.”
“But where is it?” inquired Trumbull.
“Come over to the rooms. I have a scheme and if you fellows will go through with it we’ll get that pig back.”
It was nine o’clock that evening when four young men advanced cautiously toward one of the fraternity houses just outside the college grounds. They were well prepared. By notes, telephone messages and other devices all the regular occupants of that house had been drawn to far parts of the town or the college colony. The one remaining was Harry Baldwin, who was lolling disconsolately upon a couch, pretending to study and smoking cigarettes when the door to his study opened, four fellows stepped inside and shot the bolt.
“Hello!” exclaimed Baldwin, starting up. “You came”——
“Baldwin,” said Big Trumbull, who had been nominated to do the talking, “we’ve come to find out what you did with Professor Schermer’s pig.”
“You stole him—you ought to know,” retorted Baldwin, betraying himself in his surprise.
“Then you are the one who wrote a note to the faculty?” demanded Trumbull. “That’s one thing we wanted to be sure of. Now, what did you do with the pig?”