Concerning the nature of the results of the night’s adventures I could only surmise; but now that the excitement was over and I could look at the matter soberly, I felt grave doubts arising in my mind. The spirit in which most of the fellows had acted had been one of open defiance of college laws, so I had no reason to doubt that the faculty would view the affair very seriously. Wearing masks and blowing horns had always been regarded as an indication of the most disorderly spirit, and had usually been met by the severest penalties, in the form of suspension from college for some time, and in one or two cases outright expulsion. My uneasiness rapidly increased as my mind dwelt on the possible fate awaiting me.
“It’s all Percy Randall’s fault,” I exclaimed impatiently. “Confound him and his mischievous pranks! If we had gone quietly to our rooms after setting the cannons in place, or had contented ourselves with three cheers, all would have been well. As it is now, I don’t know what is to become of me.”
I passed an anxious and almost sleepless night on the sofa where I had flung myself when I entered. As the hours dragged slowly along, the condition of my nerves scarcely improved, and by the time the first gray streaks of dawn appeared, I had worried myself into a state bordering on distraction. My bones were aching from insufficient rest, and my head was burning and feverish.
I rose about seven o’clock, and, bathing my face, redressed myself, and waited impatiently for the breakfast hour. I was anxious to get away from myself, to find something to do or some one to talk to—anything but the long, lonely silence of the past few hours. I left my room as soon as I heard the first signs of life about the building, and went over to my eating club. On the way I noticed that nearly every window on the first floor of Burke and Colver Halls had been shattered by the cannons the night before—a fact that scarcely contributed to lessen my anxiety.
To my great relief I found Tony Larcom before me at the club. Tony looked as if he had slept scarcely more than I, but he was bright and cheerful as usual. He looked at me curiously.
“See here, Harry,” said he, “you don’t want to carry around such a guilty face as that to-day. You’ll be arrested on suspicion.”
“It’s too late now,” I answered, “because I’ve already been caught. I fell into Dan Murray’s clutches last night.”
Instantly Tony was all concern.
“Oh, thunder, Harry, that’s too bad!” he exclaimed, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Really, I’m awfully sorry about that. I heard a rumor that somebody had been caught, but I thought it was surely one of Percy Randall’s select band—and it would have served them right, too; but to think that you got caught. Oh, that was hard luck.”
I thought so myself, but to hear some one else say so did me good, and Tony’s sympathy was so genuine that my spirits improved somewhat under it.