_ CHAPTER VIII. THE BURGLAR SCARE
The whole academy was now aroused. Several students and teachers, in scanty attire, had come from their rooms and were hurrying down to see if the place was on fire. For several minutes the blazing words and initials shone out amid the darkness. Then they died away in a shower of sparks, and windows could be heard being put down.
"That's excitement enough for one night," remarked John Smith. "It succeeded better than I thought it would."
"That was a great idea," said Jack.
"Glad you think so," the Indian went on.
"I've seen soldiers at the Canadian forts play all sorts of tricks with gunpowder and slow fuse so I just adopted some of them. It was easy enough, after they laid the powder train, with the initials of you, Sam, and Bony, to change them into a general serpentine twist with their initials in the midst of it. By ramming some of the powder down into the holes in the foundation it exploded with quite a noise."
"Lucky you had those chemicals in your room, Jack, or I'd never been able to make that board with the words 'We did it' on and stick it up in front of Adrian's window. I used part of their own long fuse, and it was a good one."
"Seemed to do the work all right," agreed Sam.
"It sure did," observed Jack. "I wonder what they thought when they saw the fire coming their way?"
"Hush! Here comes some one!" exclaimed Sam. and the boys put out their light, which was burning low.
"It's Dr. Mead; I know his step," said Jack.
"I'll bet he's on his way to Bagot's room," spoke Sam. "Cracky! I'm glad it isn't me."
"It's only good luck it isn't!" put in Jack. "If we hadn't gone out they might have exploded their powder, and, in the morning our initials would have been found at the bottom of the statue, burned in the stone."
A little later loud talking was heard from the direction of Adrian's room. It quieted down, after a while. But there was a strenuous session at chapel the next morning, and Adrian and his cronies were given extra lessons to do.
For a week or more after this all the students had to buckle down to hard study, as the annual examinations were approaching. Jack and his chums had little time for sports of any kind, as they had a number of lessons to master in addition to their regular work. But by diligence they kept up with the requirements, and, about two weeks before the time set for the closing of the school, they found themselves on even terms.
"I'm ready for some fun," announced Jack, one evening. "I've been good and quiet so long I can feel my wings sprouting."
"Better go easy," cautioned John Smith.
"I'm going to; as easy as I can," replied Jack. "But I've got to do something or break loose."
"Shivering side-saddles!" exclaimed Nat Anderson. "Let's have a burglar scare."
"How?" asked Sam.
"I'll think of a plan," Nat went on. "Howling huckleberries, but I too am pining for a little excitement, Jack."
"Well, trot out your plan," Jack said. "We haven't got much time."
"Let me think a minute," begged Nat, and, while he assumed an attitude as though he was trying to solve a problem in geometry, Fred drew out a little tin fife and played such a doleful air that Nat cried:
"How do you expect me to think with that thing going?" and, with a quick grab he snatched it from Fred's hand and sent it spinning across Jack's room.
"I have it!" Nat exclaimed, when the excitement had somewhat subsided. "You all know what timid creatures Professors Gale and Hall are. They room together, and I believe they'd scream if they saw a mouse. Not that they're a bad sort, for they have both helped me a lot in my lessons. But men ought not to be such babies. Now what's the matter with a couple of us disguising ourselves as burglars and going into their rooms about midnight? The rest of us can hide and hear the fun."
"Maybe they'll shoot," suggested Sam.
"Shoot! They'd be afraid to handle a revolver," was Nat's comment.
"Well, as long as it won't do any real harm, and as we positively have to have something happen, let's go on with it," said Jack. "Who'll be the burglars?"
"Nat'll have to be one," spoke John Smith, as he proposed it."
"Ll-l-let me be t-t-the o-o-o-other," said Will Slade haltingly.
"What? And when you demand their money or their lives how would you say it?" asked Sam.
"Nice sort of a burglar you'd make. 'G-g-g-give m-m-m-me y-y-y-your m-m-mon--'"
Sam stopped suddenly and dodged back, as Will aimed a blow at him. In doing so he stumbled over a pile of books and went down in a heap.
"Serves you right," said Jack. "Just for his making fun of Will I vote we elect Will as one of the burglars."
The others agreed, even Sam, and Will regained his good nature.
"How about masks?" asked Sam.
"I'll make some," replied Jack, and, from some pieces of black cloth, he quickly cut two false-faces.
"I-I-I-I've g-g-got t-t-t have a g-g-g-g--" came from Will.
"Are you trying to say a pair of gum shoes?" asked John Smith. "I'll lend you a pair of moccasins."
"I guess he means gun," volunteered Nat. "But these will do just as well," and he got a couple of nickel-plated bicycle pumps from a drawer. "They'll shine in the dim light just like revolvers," he went on.
"Guess I'll take a stroll down the corridor and see how the land lies," said Jack. "We don't want to burglarize a room that has no one in it, and they may not be in when the second story men get there."
"That's so, how are we going to get in?" asked Nat.
"Easy," replied Jack. "Their room is on the ground floor, and you can just raise the screen up and drop in. They always leave their window open a bit, as they're fresh air fiends."
While Jack went to take an observation, the two amateur burglars made their arrangements. They turned their clothing inside out, and, with the two pieces of black cloth across their faces, while ragged caps were drawn down close over their foreheads, they looked the part to perfection.
Jack soon returned, to report that the coast was clear, and that both assistants were in the room.
"Gales is reading Shakespeare, and Hall is manicuring his nails," the spy reported. "But it's too early yet. Let's go take a stroll and about midnight will be the right time. We can hide in the bushes opposite the room and hear 'em call for help. Then we can rush up and pretend we came to the rescue. That will be a good excuse in case we're caught watching the game."
Both assistants retired early, and the boys knew that twelve o'clock would find them both sound asleep. After a stroll about the college grounds, taking care not to venture into the light but keeping well in the shadows, Jack announced it was the hour for the show to commence.
"Better let Nat do the talking," Jack advised Will. "Have you got anything to disguise your voice, Nat?"
"I can talk down in my throat."
"Better put a peanut in your mouth," Jack went on passing over several. "That will make you sound more like a desperate villain."
Accordingly, Nat stuffed one of the unshelled nuts into his cheek, and then, seeing that Will was ready, he led the way from the shadow of the bushes toward the window of the room where the assistants slept. It was a dark night, which was favorable to their plans.
As Jack had said, the only bar to entrance was a light screen in the casement. Nat raised this, and, listening a few seconds, to make sure the teachers were asleep, he crawled into the room.
Will followed him. For a moment after they had entered the boys did not know what to do. They were unaware of the method of procedure common among burglars. They were in doubt whether to announce their presence, or wait until the sleepers discovered it.
Chance, however, took charge of matters for them. In moving about Will hit a book that projected over the edge of a table. It fell down, bounced against a cane standing in one corner, and the stick toppled against a wash pitcher, making a noise as if a gong had been rung.
"Now be ready to throw a scare into 'em!" whispered Nat to Will. "That's bound to rouse 'em."
It did. They could hear the sleepers sitting up in bed. Then Mr. Hall demanded:
"Who's there?"
"Don't move as you value your life!" exclaimed Nat, in his deepest tones.
"We-we-we!" began Will forgetting the instructions to let Nat do the talking. His companion, however, silenced him by a vigorous punch in the stomach.
"We're after money!" Nat went on.
There was a sudden click and the room became illuminated. Mr. Hall had pulled the chain that turned on the automatic gaslight. The two teachers were sitting up in their beds, staring at the intruders.
Nat drew his bicycle pump, and Will followed his example.
"Money or your life!" exclaimed Nat, in dramatic accents.
"Why--why--I believe they're burglars!" cried Mr. Gales.
"The impudence of them!" almost shouted Mr. Hall. The next instant he sprang out of bed and advanced on Nat and Will with long strides. This was more than the boys had bargained for.
Seizing Nat, Mr. Hall, who proved much more muscular than his build indicated, fairly tossed the boy out of the window. Fortunately he fell on the soft grass and was only shaken up.
"Get out of here, you scoundrel!" exclaimed the athletic teacher, making a rush for Will.
"D-d-don't h-h-h-hurt me!" pleaded the bold burglar. "I-I-I-I we--"
As Mr. Hall grabbed him the black mask came off and the instructor, seeing the lad's face cried out:
"It's Will Slade!"
He was about to send the burglar flying after his companion, but this discovery stopped him. At the same instant, the hidden crowd, thinking it was about time to do the rescue act, had started forward.
"Keep back!" cried Nat. "It's a fizzle!" and he limped from under the window as fast as he could. _