And so it proved. The next morning, when the big Californian met his classmates, there was a calm smile on his face, but neither by word nor action did he refer to what had taken place.
But, somehow, the story leaked out. Perhaps it was because Tom, Phil and Sid could not refrain from publicly asking Dutch and the others how the hazing had resulted.
“Did you duck Simpson?” inquired Tom, as they were on their way to chapel next morning.
“Why didn’t you come and help with the fun, if you’re so anxious to know about it?” inquired Dutch, non-committally.
“Oh, we don’t care for baths in the river this time of the year,” remarked Phil, with a laugh, and then Dutch knew that the story was known, though Tom and his two chums said nothing about having been concealed where they had a grandstand view of the whole performance.
There were now busy days at Randall, for football was in full sway. As a result of the Newkirk game, several shifts were made by coach and captain, and hard practice was called for. The California lad was given a chance on the regular against the scrub, and there was talk that he would permanently replace Sam Looper. It was felt that Randall had not done herself much credit thus far on the gridiron, and there were many anxious hearts in consequence. But the members of the eleven made up their minds to do or die, and they went against the scrub so fiercely that several members of that unfortunate contingent had to go to the hospital for repairs, or else report disabled. Then the coach and captain smiled grimly, and were not so worried about the result of the Fairview and Boxer Hall games.
It was practice, practice, practice, early and late, until some of the members of the ’varsity felt like falling on the exacting Mr. Lighton and tearing him limb from limb. But they knew it was for their good, and that they needed it.
Our three friends were in their room one evening, talking of various matters, and incidentally speculating on the loss of their clock and chair. They had not had much time, of late, on account of football, to seek for clews, and they had about given up hope of recovering their possessions.
“Well, it will soon be time to go up against Fairview,” remarked Tom, as he looked critically at a big leather patch he had sewed on the shoulder of his canvas jacket. “I do hope we win.”