[CHAPTER XIII]
A GIRL AND A GAME
There was a more complete investigation the next day. The report was also circulated that the two sophomores were not so badly injured as had at first been feared. But there was something in the air which showed that stringent measures were likely to be taken by the faculty.
Dr. Churchill was ten minutes late in opening chapel that morning, and there was much stately moving to and fro on the part of the instructors. On the face of Professor Emerson Tines there was a look of satisfaction, as if he was glad that some one had gotten into trouble.
“Look at Pitchfork!” said Sid to Tom, but Tom’s face had not lost its anxious look.
“For Heaven’s sake, cheer up!” whispered Phil Clinton. “They’ll think you did the whole business if they see your face, Tom.”
Dr. Churchill made an unusual prayer that morning. Though he did not directly refer to the happening of the previous night, it was in his petition, and many a freshman, impressed by the solemn words, then and there resolved to abjure in the future unseemly pranks and to become a “grind.”
“The freshman class will remain after chapel this morning,” announced the venerable head of Randall, and as the other classes filed out there were commiserating looks cast at the unlucky first-years by the juniors and seniors and vindictive glances bestowed by the sophomores.
The examination was a long and searching one. Tom was questioned at length, but all he would admit was that he took part in the affair, though he stated that he had had nothing to do with fixing the wires. Nor did he tell of having brought the coil to Langridge. His knife was damaging evidence against him, and he was content to let it stand as such. Kerr manfully admitted lighting the fuse which sprung the wires together and sent the current sizzling into the hand rail, but he would go no further nor tell who had strung the conductors.
The faculty dismissed the class and the instructors went into executive session.