He again mounted the chairs, and pulling himself up by the edge of the opening, after fastening up the shutter, he prepared to crawl through and drop down outside.
“I hope it isn’t much of a fall and that the ground is soft,” he murmured.
Just then he heard a commotion in front of the shack.
“They’re bringing up some more of our class,” he reasoned. “Maybe I can help ’em. Had I better stay in?” He was undecided, and he remained on the edge of the window, partly inside and partly outside the shanty. He heard the door open, and looking back in the semi-darkness, saw that a struggle was going on. He guessed that the sophomores were trying to thrust inside one or more freshmen. Then another shout told Tom that his escape was discovered.
“I’ll drop down outside,” he decided, “and see what I can do toward a rescue.”
He looked down. In the gloom below the high window was a figure.
“Look out, soph, I’m going to drop on you!” cried Tom warningly. He heard a half-smothered exclamation and then he let go, prepared to defend himself against recapture.
The fall was longer than he anticipated, for there was a depression at the back of the cabin. He toppled in a heap, and before he could straighten up, he saw some one rushing toward him. Then around the corner of a shack came two figures, one carrying a lantern.
“What’s up?” they cried together.
Tom was aware that the dark figure which he had seen underneath the window was jumping toward him. The light of the lantern shone full on Tom’s face. He was in the act of struggling to his feet when he felt some one kick him in the side, and as the toe of a heavy shoe came against his right elbow with crushing force the pain made Tom cry out.