Frank Merriwell's Return to Yale Part 5

He took hold of it with the idea of climbing along to the trunk of the tree, and then s.h.i.+nning down, but the branch bent under his weight until his feet were not more than ten feet from the ground.

Accordingly Frank let go and came down with nothing more than a bit of a jar. He had landed in the yard beside the house, from which he saw that an alley led between buildings to an adjoining street.

His hands and clothes were grimy with soot.

"If I should go through High Street this way," he thought, "and should meet Page, he'd have the laugh on me in earnest. I'll just skip out the other way, get into my room and clean up and then give him a surprise party."

Accordingly Frank hastened through the alley and so to his room. He met n.o.body on the way with whom he was acquainted, and as soon as he was in his room he washed his hands and face thoroughly and changed his clothes.

"So, then," he thought in the midst of this operation, "Prof. Babbitt wants to make an example of me, does he, and he knows my weak points, eh?"

"Luckily, I know my own weak points, too, so far as mathematics is concerned, and in the next three days it strikes me that I can do a bit of grinding that will enable me to give the professor a surprise party.

If my guess is right as to the kind of examples that will be put on that paper, I shouldn't wonder if I could give the other fellows a lift, too."

Meantime, Harold Page, having made his friend a prisoner in the fireplace, had gone from his room for the purpose of finding some other fellow whom he might bring back to share in the fun of Frank's discomfort.

As his room was at some little distance from the campus, he did not expect to find anybody on the street near it, so he started on a run in the direction of the college, for it was not his intention to keep Frank a prisoner more than a few minutes.

He had not gone very far before he met a cla.s.smate, whose name was Mortimer Ford. Ford was not a very popular fellow, although it could not be said that anybody had anything special against him.

He was acquainted with Frank and the particular crowd that chummed with him, and sometimes took part in their doings, but on the whole he was rather outside the circle in which Frank had been a leader from the start.

If Page had had his wish, he would have met Rattleton, or Browning, or Diamond, or some of the others more closely a.s.sociated with Merriwell, for he knew that they would enjoy the trick with better humor than anybody else.

When he saw Ford his first impulse was to go and look up somebody else, but Ford called out to him:

"h.e.l.lo, Page, how long have you been back?"

"Oh, I came back a week ago," Page answered, "and engaged a room, got it in order, and then went away again. I came back for good this morning."

"Glad to see you," and Ford shook hands. "What are you hurrying for?"

"Oh, nothing much," responded Page, awkwardly.

"I didn't know but you were trying to run away from that examination that old Babbitt has got up," said Ford. "Say! that is a nasty blow, isn't it?"

"It will bother a good many of us, I reckon."

They were standing on the sidewalk, and while they were talking Page was keeping his eyes out for some other friend.

There were no other students in sight, and he began to feel a little ashamed of the small trick he had played on Frank.

"I guess I'll go and let him out," he thought, "Ford will do as well as anybody else to see the fun."

So he said aloud:

"Come down to my room a minute, Ford; I've got something to show you."

"I wish it was a case of beer," remarked Ford, falling in with him and walking along, "or perhaps it's something better than that?"

"It's nothing to drink, but it's something better than that, just the same."

"Tell you what I wish it was."

"What?"

"Babbitt's examination paper."

"Great Scott! why don't you wish you owned the earth?"

"I do."

"You might as well wish that as to think of getting hold of Babbitt's paper. There isn't a secret society in Yale, you know, that is closer than an examination paper. There's hardly a case on record where one has been got in advance."

"Oh, I know it," said Ford, in a mournful tone; "of course it's hopeless to think of getting hold of the paper, and I hadn't any idea of trying to, but that's the only thing that's worrying me just now, and so I spoke of it."

"Merriwell doesn't seem to think the thing's going to be very serious,"

said Page.

"He wouldn't think anything was serious," answered Ford.

Just as they were entering the house where Page had his room, Prof.

Babbitt came out. They had seen Instructor Frost go out and turn in another direction a moment before.

The students touched their hats to the professor, wished him good-morning, and pa.s.sed in.

Prof. Babbitt grumbled a surly reply, and turned away toward the college.

Page wondered as he went upstairs whether Frank had kicked down the secret door to the chimney.

"It would be just like him," he thought. "Confound him! I wouldn't much blame him if he did!"

The minute he came into the room he glanced at the chimney.

"It's all right," he said to himself, and he felt a little triumphant.

"It isn't often a fellow can catch Merriwell, and although it's a small kind of a trick, it will be something to speak of hereafter."

"Well, this is a snug sort of place," remarked Ford, looking around the room. "The ceiling is a little low, but the window seats are broad and you've got soft cus.h.i.+ons. I don't see anything the matter with this; where's your bedroom?"

"Over there," responded Page, pointing to a door. "What do you think of this?" and he pointed to the chimney.

"It takes up some room," was Ford's comment; "but you've got plenty of that to spare."

"You know what it is, don't you?" asked Page.

"A chimney, I suppose?"

"Exactly, and it follows that it's hollow."