So far Erie Sawyer had treated both Steve and Tom with silent contempt whenever he encountered them, although his scowls told them that they were by no means forgiven. Naturally, since Eric was on the 'varsity and the two chums on the second, they saw each other practically every afternoon on the field or in the gymnasium. But it wasn't difficult to avoid a real meeting where so many others were about. Roy Draper pretended to think that Eric was only biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to murder the two in cold blood, and delighted to draw gruesome pictures of the ultimate fate of his friends.
"I guess what he will really do," he said on the Sunday afternoon following the Cherry Valley game when he and Harry Westcott were in Number 12 Billings, "is to decoy you both over to the Sound some fine day and drown you."
"Just how will he manage it?" asked Tom, who was tumbling everything in the room about in his search for a mislaid book.
"He will probably tie heavy weights to your necks and drop you into a deep hole in the ocean," replied Roy promptly. "Then you will be eaten by sharks."
"And what would we be doing all the time he was tying the weights to us?" asked Steve sarcastically.
"Nothing, because he'd chloroform you first," returned Roy triumphantly, much pleased with his readiness. "You'd be insensible."
"Meaning without sense," murmured Harry. "It wouldn't take much chloroform."
"Huh! Don't you talk!" said Steve. "You'll never have brain-fever!"
"Ha!" scoffed Harry. "Sarcasm, the refuge of small intellects!"
"Come on," said Tom. "It's nearly three-thirty. Bother Sawyer, anyway. He's not troubling me any."