“Not by a jugful!” cried Joe, and with a quick motion he stood up, spilling off the lad on his back. The latter hit the floor with a resounding whack. The next instant Joe had torn off the blinding handkerchief, and made a grab for the lad whom he had upset. He tore off his mask and there was revealed the scowling face of Hiram Shell.
At the same moment Tom had done the same to his tormentor, discovering Luke Fodick under the black mask.
“Oh, so it’s your crowd, is it Hiram?” asked Joe.
“Yes, and by Jove, you’ll suffer for this! Why aren’t you sports enough to take your initiation as the others do?”
“Because we don’t choose to,” replied our hero.
“Then I’ll make you!” cried Hiram, doubling up his fists and leaping at Joe. “Come on, Luke, give ’em what’s coming to ’em!”
“Two can play at that game,” spoke Joe coolly. He noted that the room had been roughly fitted up as a sort of society meeting chamber. At the entrance was a long, narrow and shallow tank of water. It was through this that Joe and Tom had waded.
“I’ll fix you!” cried Hiram.
“All right,” agreed Joe easily. “As well here and now as anywhere, anytime.”