THE TABLES TURNED
"Well, Joe, what do you think about it?" Tom Davis glanced at his chum
across the room as he asked this question. It was several hours after
the snow battle, and the two lads were studying, or making a pretense at
it.
"Think about what, Tom?"
"Oh, you know what I mean--what happened to-day, and how it's going to
affect your chances for the nine. They look rather slim, don't they?"
"Well, Tom, I don't mind admitting that they do. I didn't know Hiram was
such a high-mucky-muck in baseball here. But there's no use crying over
spilled milk. He and I would have had a clash sooner or later, anyhow,
and it might as well be first as last."
"It's too blamed bad though," went on Tom.
"Yes," agreed Joe, "especially as I picked out Excelsior Hall because
their nine had so many victories to its credit, and because it had a
good reputation. That's what partly induced you to come here, too, I
guess."
"Well, yes, in a way. Of course I like baseball, but I'm not so crazy
after it as you are. Maybe that's why I'm not such a good player. If I
can hold down first, or play out in the field, it suits me; but you----"
"I want to be pitcher or nothing," interrupted Joe with a smile, "but
I'm afraid I'm a long way from the box now."
"Yes, from what I can hear, Hiram has the inside track in the baseball
game. He's manager chiefly because he puts up a lot of money for the
team, and because his friends, what few he has, are officers in the
organization."
"Who's captain?" asked Joe. "Maybe I could induce him to let me play
even if Hiram is down on me."
"Nothing doing there," replied Tom quickly. "Luke Fodick is captain, or,
rather he was last year, I hear, and he's slated for the same position
this season. Luke and Hiram are as thick as such fellows always are.
When Hiram is hit Luke does the boo-hoo act for him. No, Luke will be
down on you as much as his crony is. But maybe we can get up a second
nine, and play some games on our own hook!"
"None of that!" Joe exclaimed quickly. "I'm not an insurgent. I play
with the regulars or not at all. They'd be saying all sorts of things
against me if you and I tried to start an opposition team."
"That's so. Still it mightn't be a bad idea, under the circumstances, to
have another team, if it wasn't for what the school would say."
"What do you mean?"
"Why, Excelsior got dumped in the interscholastic league last season.
They play for the blue banner you know--a sort of prize trophy--and it
was won by Morningside Academy, which now holds it. That's why I say it
might be a good thing to have some more ginger in the team here. I know
you could put it in, after the way you pitched on the Silver Stars when
they licked the Resolutes."
"Well, it can't be done I'm afraid," Joe rejoined. "There can only be
one first team in a school, and I don't want to disrupt things or play
second fiddle. If I can't get on the nine I'll have to stay off, that's
all. But it's going to be mighty tough to sit still and watch the other
fellows play, and all the while just itching to get hold of the
ball--mighty tough," and Joe gazed abstractedly about the room.
"I wish I could help you, old man, but I can't," said Tom. "I suppose
this clash with Hiram had to come but I do wish it had held off until
after the season opened. Once you were on the nine you could show the
fellows what stuff you had in your pitching arm, and then Hiram and Luke
could do their worst, but they couldn't get you off the team."
"That's nice of you to say, but I don't know about it," remarked Joe.
"Well, I'm about done studying. I wish----"
But he did not finish the sentence, for there came a knock on the
door--a pre-arranged signal in a certain code of raps, showing that one
of their classmates stood without.
"Wait a minute," called Tom, as he went to open the door.
His quick view through the crack showed the smiling faces of Teeter and
Peaches, and there was an audible sigh of relief from Joe's roommate.
For Tom had fallen behind in his studies of late, and had been warned
that any infractions of the rules might mean his suspension for a week
or two.
"Gee, you took long enough to open the door," complained Teeter,
"especially considering what we have with us."
"Don't you mean 'whom' you have with you?" asked Joe, nodding toward
Peaches.
"No, I mean 'what,'" insisted Teeter with a grin as he unbuttoned his
coat and brought into view several pies, and a couple of packages done
up in paper.
"Oh, that's the game, is it?" asked Joe with a laugh.
"And there's more to it," added Peaches, as he produced two bottles from
the legs of his trousers. "This is the best strawberry pop that can be
bought. We'll have a feast as is a feast; eh, fellows?"
"Lock the door!" exclaimed Tom, and he did it himself, being nearest to
it. "There may be confiscating spirits abroad in the land to-night."
"Old Sixteen is abroad, anyhow," spoke Teeter with a laugh, "but I guess
we'll be safe. I have a scheme, if worst comes to worst."
"What is it?" asked Joe.
"You'll see when the time comes--if it does. 'Now, on with the dance--let
joy be unconfined!' Open the pop, Peaches, and don't sample it until
we're all ready. Got any glasses, you fellows? This is a return game for
the treat you gave us the other night."
"Then we'll find the glasses all right," spoke Joe with a laugh. "But
what's your game, not to let old Sixteen catch us at this forbidden
midnight feast? Have you dummies in your beds?"
"Not a dum. But watch my smoke."
From the parcels he carried, Teeter produced what looked to be
books--books, as attested by the words on their covers--books dealing
with Latin, and the science of physics.
"There are our plates," he said as he laid the books down on the table.
Then Joe and Tom saw that the books were merely covers pasted over a
sort of box into which a whole pie could easily be put. "Catch the
idea," went on Teeter. "We are eating in here, which is against the
rules, worse luck. But, perchance, some monitor or professor knocks
unexpectedly. Do we have to hustle and scramble to conceal our
refreshments? Answer--we do not. What do we do?"
"Answer," broke in Peaches. "We merely slip our pie or sandwiches or
whatever it happens to be, inside our 'books,' and go right on studying.
Catch on?"
"I should say we did!" exclaimed Joe. "That's great!"
"But what about the bottles of strawberry pop?" asked Tom. "We can't
hide them in the fake books."
"No, I've another scheme for that," went on Teeter. "Show 'em, Peaches."
Thereupon Peaches proceeded to extract the corks from the bottles of
liquid refreshment. From the packages Teeter had brought he took some
other corks. They had glass tubes through them, two tubes for each cork.
And on one tube in each cork was a small rubber hose.
"There!" exclaimed Teeter as Peaches put the odd corks in the bottles.
"We can pour out the pop with neatness and dispatch into our glasses and
at the same time, should any one unexpectedly enter, why--we are only
conducting an experiment in generating oxygen or hydrogen gas. The
bottles are the retorts, and we can pretend our glasses are to receive
the gas. How's that?"
"All to the horse radish!" cried Joe in delight.
"Then proceed," ordered Teeter with a laugh; and when all was in
readiness each lad sat with a fake book near him, into which he could
slip his piece of pie at a moment's warning, while on the table stood
the bottles of pop with the tubes and hose extending from their
corks--truly a most scientific-looking array of flasks and glassware.
"Now let's talk," suggested Teeter, biting generously into a pie. "That
was a great fight we had to-day, all right."
"And there might have been one of a different kind," added Peaches.
"Hear anything more from Hiram, Joe?"
"No, I don't expect to--until the next time, and then I suppose we'll
have it out."
"I guess Joe's goose is cooked as far as getting on the nine is
concerned," ventured Tom.
"Sure thing," agreed Peaches.
"Yet we're going to need a new pitcher," went on Teeter. "Probably two
of 'em?"
"How's that?" asked Tom interestedly.
"Why Rutherford, our star man of last year, graduated, and he's gone to
Princeton or Yale. Madison, the substitute who was pretty good in a
pinch game, graduated, too; but we thought he was coming back for an
extra course in Latin. I heard to-day that he isn't, and so that means
we'll have to have two new box-men. There might be a show for Joe."
"Forget it!" advised Peaches. "Not the way Hiram and Luke feel. They
went off by themselves right after supper to-night, and I heard them
saying something about Joe here, but I couldn't catch what it was. Oh,
they're down on him all right, for Joe backed Hiram to a standstill
to-day, and that hasn't happened to the bully in a blue moon."
"Oh, well, I guess I can live if I don't get on the nine my first season
here," spoke Joe. "I'll keep on trying though."
Thus the talk went on, chiefly about baseball, and gradually the
strawberry pop was lowered in the bottles, and the pie was nearly
consumed.
"Guess you had all your trouble for nothing, Teeter," remarked Tom. "We
aren't going to be interrupted to-night."
Hardly had he spoken than there was the faint rattle of the door knob.
It was as if some one had tried it to see if the portal was unlocked
before knocking. Slight as the noise was, the lads heard it.
"Quick! On the job!" whispered Teeter. He crammed the rest of his pie
into the fake book, as did the others.
"Study like blazes!" was Teeter's next order.
There came a knock at the door.
"Young gentlemen have you any visitors?" demanded the ominous voice of
Professor Rodd.
Teeter placed the ends of the rubber tubes one in each of two glasses
before Joe could answer.
"I heard voices in there--more than two voices," went on the Latin
instructor grimly, "and I demand that you open the door before I send
for Dr. Fillmore and the janitor."
Tom slid to the portal and unlocked it. Professor Rodd stepped into the
room and his stern gaze took in the two visitors. But he also saw
something else that surprised him.
On the table was apparatus that very much resembled some used for
experiments in the physics class. And, wonder of wonders, each of the
four lads held a book in his hand--a book that the merest glance showed
to be either a Latin grammar or a treatise on chemistry.
"What--why----?" faltered the professor.
"_Aliqui--aliquare--aliqua_," recited Teeter in a sing-song declension
voice. "_Aliquorum--aliquarum--aliquorum._" Then he pretended to look up
suddenly, as if just aware of the presence of the instructor.
"Oh, good evening, Professor Rodd," said Teeter calmly.
"What does this mean?" exclaimed the teacher. "Don't you know it is
against the rules for students to visit in each others' rooms after
hours without permission?"
"I knew it was--that is for anything but study," replied Teeter frankly.
"I didn't think you minded if we helped each other with our Latin." Oh!
what an innocent look was on his face!
"Oh!--er--um--and you are studying Latin?" asked the professor, while a
pleased smile replaced his frown.
"Yes, Professor," put in Peaches. "And I can't seem to remember, nor
find, what the neuter plural accusative of 'some' is. I have gone as far
as _aliquos--aliquas_, but----"
"_Aliqua--aliqua!_" exclaimed the Professor quickly. "You ought not to
forget that. We had it in class the other day."
"Oh, yes, so we did!" exclaimed Teeter. "I just remember now; don't you,
Joe?"
"Yes," murmured Joe, wondering whether or not they had turned the tables
on the teacher.
"I am glad to see you so studious," went on Mr. Rodd. "And I see you do
not neglect your physics, either. Ah--er--what is the red liquid in the
bottles," and he looked at what remained of the strawberry pop.
It was the question Tom and Joe had feared would be asked. But Teeter
was equal to the emergency.
"Professor," he asked innocently, "isn't there some rule regarding
_quis_ used in the indefinite in connection with _aliquis_?"
"Yes, and I am glad you spoke of that," said Mr. Rodd quickly, rubbing
his hands, much pleased that he had a chance to impart some Latin
information. "_Quis_ indefinite is found in the following compounds:
_aliquis_--someone; _si quis_, if any; _ne quis_, lest any; _ecquis_,
_num quis_, whether any. I am very glad you brought that up. I will
speak of it in class to-morrow. But I must go now."
The boys began to breathe easier and Teeter, who had been whispering
declensions to himself, left off.
"Oh, by the way," spoke the Professor, as if he had just thought of it:
"I don't mind you boys studying together, if you don't stay up too
late. But it is better to ask permission. However, I will speak to Dr.
Fillmore about it, and it will be all right from now on. I am pleased
that some of my students are so painstaking. I wish more were."
With a bow he left them and they tried not to give way to their
exultation until he was far down the corridor.
"Say, talk about pulling off a stunt! We did it all right!" exclaimed
Joe.
"I should say yes," agreed the others.