The Rover Boys in Camp Part 26

"I wouldn't sing at my own funeral," answered Powell, and stalked off, humming as gayly as ever.

The remainder of the day pa.s.sed quietly enough, although by the whispering in various tents it was easy to see that something unusual was in the air.

"Hazing to-night, as sure as guns," said Major Larry to one of the officers.

"Shall we arrest the hazers"? asked the officer, with a twinkle in his eye.

"You must obey orders," answered the youthful major, non-committally, since he had given no orders on the subject.

He could well remember his first year in camp, when he had been dragged from his cot at midnight, almost stripped, and thrown into a brook of icy spring water, and then made to run over a rough road in his bare feet for half a mile, "just to warm up," as the hazers told him. It was rough sport, not to be approved, but "boys will be boys," and it is practically impossible to stop hazing even in the highest of our inst.i.tutions of learning.

It was poor Hans Mueller who was the first to suffer that night. In the midst of the darkness, for there was no moon, Hans found himself suddenly aroused from his slumbers by being dragged out of his cot by the feet.

"Shtop!" he began, when a hand was thrust over his mouth. Then he was raised up by six cadets, shoved out of the back of the tent and carried away to the grove in the rear of the camp. The party had to pa.s.s two sentries, but the sentries were evidently posted, for they appeared to see nothing wrong.

Hans was not allowed to speak until he was out of hearing distance of the camp. Then he was dumped on the ground with a dull thud.

"Mine cracious! vot does dis mean annahow"? he demanded, as he struggled to his feet. "Does you vants to kill me alretty, drowing me aroundt like a log of vood, hey"?

There was no answer, and now he looked at the cadets, to discover that each wore a black mask, with a hood from which two black horns protruded.

"Who you vos alretty"? he spluttered, staring in open-mouthed amazement at the party. "You vos all look like der Oldt Boy, ain't it! I guess I go me back to der camp kvick!" and he started to run.

Hans did not get far, for a foot send him sprawling, and by the time he was again on his feet four masked cadets had him by the hands and arms, so that he could not get away. He started to yell when of a sudden somebody threw a handful of dry flour into his wide open mouth.

"Wuog!" he gasped. "Wuog! Do--you--wants--to choke me alretty!" And then he started to sneeze, as some of the flour entered his nose.

There was a moment of silence and then one of the masked figures advanced slowly.

"Hans Mueller, are you prepared to meet your doom"? was the question put, in a deep ba.s.s voice.

"Doom? Vot's dot?" asked the German boy, slightly frightened.

"Are you prepared to die?"

"Die? Not by a jugful I ain't. You let me go!"

"Are you prepared to become a full-fledged member of the Order of Black Skulls."

"Not much, I ton't belong to noddings," gasped Hans.

"Then you must prepare to meet your fate. Away with him, fellows, to his doom!"

Before Hans could resist he was caught up once again. One of the cadets had brought with him a large blanket and into this the German youth was thrown. Then the others caught the blanket around the edges.

"Stop!" roared Hans, and tried to climb out of the blanket. But before he could manage it, the thing was given a toss and up he went, high into the air.

"Oh! Mine cracious!" he gasped and came down with a crash, to go up again an instant later. Then up and down went the boy, turning over and over, until he was all but dazed.

"Stop! Murder! Fire! Robbers!" he roared. "Let me owid, kvick! I vos turning outsides in alretty! Oh, stop, von't you, blease!"

"Will you join the Order of Black Skulls"? he was asked again.

"_Yah, yah!_ Anydings, so long as you lets me town kvick!"

"And you will not breathe a word about what has taken place here"?

"I say me noddings, upon my honor, ain't it!"

"Then let him go, fellows," and a moment later Hans was lowered.

"Now you are one of us," said another student, and handed him a mask, skull-cap and pair of horns, the latter made of stuffed black cloth.

"Do you promise to help us"?

"Anydings vot you vonts."

"Then come with us, and don't dare to open your mouth."

CHAPTER XVIII

HAZERS AT WORK

William Philander Tubbs was dreaming of a fas.h.i.+onable dance he had once enjoyed when he suddenly found himself bound and gagged and being carried he knew not where.

"This is awful!" he thought. "What in the world does it mean?"

Then he remembered that some of the cadets had spoken about hazing, and the cold perspiration came out on his forehead.

The gag in his mouth was made of nothing more than a knot in a clean towel, but it worried him a good deal and he was afraid he would be choked to death by it. But nothing of the sort happened, and soon the gag was removed.

"What does this mean?" he asked, as many cadets had done before him.

He received no answer, and tried to break away from his tormentors. But their hold on him could not be shaken, and before he was set down he found himself well out of sight and hearing of Camp Putnam, as the spot had been named.

"This is a beastly shame," he murmured. "Why do you dare to break into my night's rest in this fas.h.i.+on?"

He had heard of the mysterious society of Black Skulls before, but so far had never been hazed by the members. He looked curiously at the masked cadets, wondering if he could recognize any of them.

"Are you prepared to meet your doom?" he was asked.

"I am prepared to go back to my tent," he answered.

"Away with him!" was the cry.