_“Peeg” Excitement_
The success of Larry Kirkland and his friends in “stirring up” Cascade
was beyond their wildest imaginings. Before noon of the following day
the school was in a turmoil. The “Herr Professor’s” pig had disappeared
and theft was charged.
It was little Butler who came running to whisper the announcement of
this new development in the prank. It was known that when Bartelme
reached his room the pig was gone. It had disappeared sometime between
the moment the plotters had tucked it under the covers and forty-five
minutes later, when Bartelme returned and made complaint that some
students had invaded his room, mussed his bed clothing and stolen his
nightgown. No one seemed to know what had become of the animal, nor did
anyone connect the theft of the pig with Bartelme’s loss. It was
inconceivable that the pig, tied and trussed as it was, could have
escaped from the bed, opened the door, fled down three flights of stairs
and reached freedom and surcease from operations by the professor.
Besides, the boys remembered they had closed the bedroom door and also
the door leading to the stairway.
The new phase of the situation made the prank appear more serious; but
it was the attitude of the dignified “Herr Professor” that caused most
uneasiness. He was inconsolable and, as Winans remarked, “his Dutch was
up above the boiling point.” He had discovered his loss early in the
morning, and had stormed into the offices of the president demanding
vengeance. Unconsciously he added to the uproar by declaring loudly that
“Dere vud be peeg excitement” when he caught the culprits.
The “peeg excitement” grew and increased, especially after chapel
exercises, in which President Jamieson spoke seriously of the offense,
detailed the earnest, unselfish work of Professor Schermer in the
interests of science, of long hours of study in his bacteriological
laboratory; how, by the use of the humble pig, he believed himself near
the solution of the cause and prevention of a disease that was one of
the worst scourges under which the farmers struggle.
The seriousness of the joke became more and more evident, and the “fun”
rapidly was oozing from it. After chapel exercises the guilty quartette
strolled across the campus talking.
“The thing that worries me,” said Winans, “is that the pig is gone. Of
course, we thought it would be returned and we’d have the laugh on that
serious old fossil Bartelme. I wonder who took that pig and what they
did with it?”
“I’ve talked to several of the fellows who live in that end of the
dorm,” admitted Butler. “Some of them heard us go up with the pig and
come down again, but didn’t pay any attention. Rumsey said he was going
for water later and, while passing down the hall, he heard two or three
fellows carrying something down the back stairs, but before he reached
the head of the staircase they closed the back door.”
“How many of them?” inquired Trumbull seriously.
“He couldn’t tell. He didn’t see them, and was judging from the noise
only.”
“Well, one thing is certain,” remarked Larry. “Two or more fellows in
this school know we took the pig and put it in the bed. Why did they
want to spoil our joke? If they wanted to return the pig, why didn’t
they put it back in the ‘Herr Professor’s’ pen?”
“And why don’t they tell on us now?” queried Butler anxiously.
“It wasn’t anyone connected with the faculty,” concluded Winans. “If it
had been, we’d have been on the carpet in chapel and probably been fired
or suspended. What the dickens I can’t understand is that they would
keep quiet.”
“Maybe they took the pig to put in someone else’s bed, and it will show
up all right when they see how serious this thing is.”
But the pig did not return. The guilty ones waited anxiously for two
days, worried and expectant, hoping that the missing “peeg” would be
returned and the situation relieved.
If was rumored that city detectives were engaged on the case and that a
spy had been placed in the dormitories to discover the identity of the
culprits. The faculty was extremely busy with its investigation, and was
threatening dire punishment. To make it worse, the newspapers had
scented the facts and were blazoning the story of the “peeg excitement”
at Cascade in lurid yarns, which held the “Herr Professor” up to
ridicule and passed lightly over the loss to science. The burlesque on
the missing germs became a joke for paragraphers and “funny men,” and
each jest was a blow to the sensitive nature of the brusque, rotund,
little scientist who had devoted the best years of his life to the study
of cholera in hogs.
It was the fourth day after the theft of the “Herr Professor’s”
inoculated pig that Larry Kirkland determined upon action. It had
appeared as if the affair of the pig was being forgotten, but to Larry,
as he studied and analyzed the situation, it became more and more
serious.
As usual the chums had gathered in Larry’s quarters in the boarding
house to study or romp when he raised the question.
“Fellows,” he remarked seriously, “I’ve made up my mind to go to
Professor Schermer in the morning and confess that I stole his pig.”
“What for?” demanded Trumbull. “They are busy forgetting that infernal
shoat, and in another week it will pass into the unwritten history of
Cascade. Future generations of Freshmen will adore us and perhaps
imitate us as heroes who stole the pig. Our names will go down with
those of the heroes who got away with something and were not caught.
Only the boob is caught; the hero is the one who gets away with it.”
“I know,” replied Larry; “but this is different. My conscious hurts me
every time I think of it. If we only could get the pig back”——
“Let’s chip in and buy that old grouch a new pig,” urged Trumbull. “He’s
made as much fuss over that pig as if it was a gold mine we stole.”
“Why didn’t you get up in chapel and declare we stole the pig, Larry?”
taunted Winans. “If your conscience hurts you so much, why not tell them
about who put the sauer kraut in Professor Ehmke’s ink well?”
“You fellows don’t understand,” protested Larry. “I won’t give any of
you away. I think we ought to go and tell Professor Schermer we stole
the pig and ask him if there is anything we can do to repay.”
“You’ll get us all fired from college,” protested Butler. “What’s the
use? They’ll never find out who did it.”
“I’ve waited for them to find out,” said Larry. “I wasn’t going to
confess while they might think it through fear of being caught.”
“Fellows,” said Trumbull, “I’ve been thinking that way myself. Let’s go
over and have it out with the ‘Herr Professor.’”
“Oh, I say,” protested Larry; “I didn’t want to drag you into it. I’ll
own up and see what can be done.”
“Nothing like that,” announced Winans. “We’re all in the same boat. What
do you think, Butler?”
“Me? Why I’d just a lieve confess as to do it over again,” laughed the
little fellow ruefully. “My conscience is clear. I didn’t carry the pig,
and I’m so small the ‘Herr Professor’ probably will attack you big ones
first.”
Rather dismally the small party set out across the campus and
hesitatingly approached the residence of Professor Schermer. Winans,
summoning all his courage, advanced and rang the bell, and the
hesitating and confused culprits were ushered into the presence of the
grave, courteous student, who regarded them over the tops of his
glasses.
“Young shentlemans, to vot do I owe der honor off your presences?” he
inquired gravely.
They shuffled, waited, each for the other, and glanced back and forth
between each other for moral support.
“It’s this way, professor,” said Larry, screwing up his courage. “We
swiped your pig and”——
“Vass? You stole mine pig?” he exclaimed, frowning. “For vy?”
He bristled with indignant anger and glared at them.
Quickly, now that the first plunge was taken, Larry related the
circumstances, described the theft of the pig, of placing it in the bed
and leaving it. Slowly a smile broke upon the face of the professor and,
growing, it expanded into a laugh, and he sat rocking back and forth.
“You iss fery pad poys,” he said, removing his glasses to wipe the tears
from his eyes. “Pad poys, but you iss honest. Where iss mine pig?”
Again Larry explained desperately, the professor nodding gravely.
“We wanted to tell you, professor,” he said, “how sorry we are. We’d do
anything to help get the pig back, but we don’t know who took it or
where it is.”
“Berhaps it vill return,” said the professor calmly. “You are ferry pad
poys, but you are goot pad boys to tell me. Aber I shall not speak of it
again, and you, I know, vill help me find mine pig.”
They shook hands with him seriously and backed from the study.
“Isn’t he an old trump?” said Winans enthusiastically. “He won’t even
report it. I for one will break my neck to help him recover his fool
pig.”