_ CHAPTER IX. NAT'S INVITATION
The boys needed no other warning to make themselves scarce. They had reckoned without their host in planning the trick on the two teachers.
"Where's Will?" asked Jack of Nat.
"I guess they've caught him," the limping "burglar" said.
"That means trouble," put in Sam. "How did it happen?"
The conspirators were now some distance away from the Hall, and out of hearing distance.
"It happened because they weren't the milksops we thought them," said Nat; rubbing his elbow. "The way he grabbed me felt as if I was being hugged by a bear."
"Then they didn't get frightened?"
"Not a bit. Came right at me."
The boys looked back. The brilliantly lighted window of the teacher's room shone out plainly amid the blackness of the night. As the boys watched, they saw a figure climb over the sill.
"There comes Will," spoke Sam.
"I wonder if they're not going to report us," said Jack. "Say, It will be the first time a teacher didn't take an opportunity of getting even."
As soon as Will found himself on the ground he set off on a run, toward where he supposed his friends to be in hiding.
Jack gave the usual signal-whistle of his crowd, and Will, hearing it, came up quickly.
"What happened?"
"Didn't he make a row?"
"Are they going to report it?"
"How'd you get away?"
These were some of the questions to which the throng of boys demanded answers.
"I-I-I--c-can't t-t-tell h-h-h--."
"Here! you quit that!" exclaimed Jack sternly, thinking to frighten Will out of his stuttering.
The rebuke had the desired effect, and, for once Will forgot to mix his words and letters.
"When he saw it was me," he explained, "he didn't seem to know what to say. Then he laughed and Gales laughed, and I felt pretty foolish; I tell you.
"Gales asked me who was with me, but Hall cut in and said he didn't want me to tell. I wouldn't anyhow, only it was white of him not to insist."
"It sure was," murmured Jack. "Oh, I can see trouble coming our way."
"Well," went on Will. "He looked at me a little longer, and I heard Gales mutter something about 'boys will be boys,' then Hall made a sign to him, and Gales went back to bed."
"What did you do?" asked Jack.
"Why, Hall motioned to me to climb out of the windows and I did, mighty quick, you can bet"
"Wait until chapel to-morrow morning," said Nat. "Maybe we won't get it! Never mind, the end of the term is almost here, and they can't do any more than suspend us. Though I hate to have the folks hear of it."
There were several anxious hearts beating under boyish coats when the opening exercises were held the next morning. The burglar schemers watched the two assistants file in and take their usual places on the raised platform.
"How do they look?" whispered Nat to Jack.
"Don't seem to have an awful lot of fire in their eyes," was the answer.
"Wait until Dr. Mead begins," whispered Sam, a sort of Job's comforter.
But to the boys' astonishment, there was no reference to the night's prank. The exercises went off as usual, though every time Dr. Mead cleared his throat, or began to speak on a new subject, there was a nervous thrill on the part of the conspirators.
"I have one more announcement to make, and that will end the exercises for the day," the head of the Academy said.
"Here it comes," whispered Jack.
"Will Slade and Nat Anderson are requested to meet Professors Hall and Gales after chapel," was what the doctor said.
There was a little buzz of excitement among the students, for the story of the escapade had become generally known.
"Glad I'm not in their shoes, but I suppose we'll all come in for it," said Sam, as he and the others filed out of the assembly room. Will and Nat remained, their spirits anything but pleasant.
Their companions stayed out on the campus, waiting for them, instead of dispersing to their rooms to prepare for the first lesson period. As the minutes dragged away there was a general feeling of apprehension.
"Don't s'pose they'll get a flogging do you?" asked Sam.
"Against the rules of the institution," replied Jack.
"Here they come," announced Fred Kaler. "I don't know whether I ought to play a funeral march or 'Palms of Victory.'"
"Probably the former," put in John Smith.
"Well?" asked Jack, as the two "burglars" came within hailing distance, "what did they do to you?"
"It's all right!" exclaimed Nat. "Say, they're bricks all right, Gales and Hall are! They took us to Dr. Mead's little private office, and we thought sure we were in for it. I didn't know how they recognized me until Gales gave me my handkerchief, which I had dropped in the room. It had my name on it."
"Skip those details!" interrupted Sam. "Get down to business. Did they fire you?"
"Not a bit of it," replied Nat. "They asked me if I was hurt in the-- er--the--jump I took from the window. I said I wasn't. They then made some remarks about the night air being bad toward the end of the term, and they told us to go to our classes. Not a word about it. I call that white, I do."
"Right you are!" came in chorus from the others.
"We ought to send 'em a vote of thanks," suggested Sam.
"No, I think I'd let it rest where it is," came from Jack. "They want to show that they could have made trouble if they wanted to. We'd better let it drop. I wonder if Dr. Mead knows it?"
"I don't believe they told him," was Nat's opinion. "You see there wasn't much of a row, and it was all over in a little while. But it certainly is one on us."
To this they all agreed. Yet one good thing came of it, for the boys had a better understanding of the characters of the two instructors. They felt an increased respect for them morally as well as physically, and there came a better spirit between Jack's crowd and the two professors. The latter never even referred to the burglar incident, and, whenever any of the other students spoke in rather slighting terms of either of the instructors, Jack and his friends were ready defenders.
On account of preparations for examinations there was only a half day's session, the boys being given the afternoon off. After dinner Jack accepted an invitation from John Smith to go out in the Indian student's canoe on the lake.
They paddled about for several hours, and were on their way back to the boathouse, when a rowing craft, in which two youths were seated, came swiftly toward them.
"Look out!" called Jack. "Do you want to run us down?"
Whether the rowers intended that or not was not evident, but they certainly came within a few inches of smashing the frail canoe. Only John's skill prevented it. As the rowboat swept past one of the oars fairly snatched the paddle from Jack's hand.
"What's the matter with you?" he demanded angrily.
The only answer was a mocking laugh, and, as the boat was now far enough past to show the faces of the rowers, Jack looked to see who they were.
"Jerry Chowden!" he exclaimed. "I thought he was in Chicago," and he recalled the threatening letter.
"Guess he's here to see the closing exercises," remarked John. "Who's that with him?"
"Adrian Bagot" replied Jack. "Well, they're a nice team. I shouldn't wonder but there'd be some trouble for some one if they stay long."
"Not many more days left," John observed. "Grab your paddle," and he swung the canoe around to where the broad blade floated.
In his room that evening Jack's meditations as to what Chowden's return might mean were interrupted by the entrance of Nat Anderson. He seemed quite excited and was waving a letter over his head.
"Great news," he exclaimed.
"What is?" asked Jack. "Some one left you a thousand dollars?"
"No, it's an invitation from my uncle, Morris Kent, who has a big ranch near Denville, Colorado, to come out and spend the summer vacation with him."
"Fine!" cried Jack.
"But that isn't the best part," added Nat. "He says I can bring two chums with me, and I want you to be one."
"Do you mean it?" asked Jack.
"Sure."
"Who else will you take?"
There was a noise in the corridor. _