“Hold on! What are you going to do?” demanded Joe.
“You’ll see,” was the answer. Joe and Tom were led to another part of the room. It was dimly lighted now, as they could see, for a faint glow came under the handkerchiefs.
A moment later each of the luckless candidates felt a cold stream of water strike him full in the face. They tried to duck, and to turn their heads away, but the others held them until the upper part of their bodies were thoroughly soaked.
“That’s enough for steam,” came the order from one of the party. “Now to see how they can carry passengers. Off with their bonds, but keep the blinders on.”
This was done.
“Down on your hands and knees, candidates,” came the order, and Joe and Tom had nothing for it but to obey.
A moment later some one sat on each back and again came the order:
“Forward march!”
Now Joe, while liking fun as well as any lad, thought there was a limit to it, and to the indignities of the initiation, especially in a mythical society which they did not care about joining. When a heavy lad, therefore, sat down on our hero’s back Joe made up his mind that matters had gone far enough.
“Go ahead! Carry your passenger!” was the command.