FIRST TRICK TO THE ENEMY
But time heals all wounds, and long before the special trolley had
landed the team back at Alton Leonard’s spirits were again at normal,
or perhaps a little beyond normal since, in spite of the defeat, the
Gray-and-Gold had had her big moments, and he had shared in at least
one of them. Disappointment had not prevented the other members of
the squad from giving praise where it was deserved, and Leonard had
heard a number of nice things said. Rus Emerson had been especially
complimentary, and Coach Cade, while less demonstrative than the
players, had expressed his approval quite unmistakably. So, all in all,
Leonard should have been more than satisfied with the afternoon, it
seemed. But he wasn’t, for the defeat rankled, and Slim’s well-intended
but cynical sounding advice to “forget it and wait until next year”
brought little comfort. But in spite of having failed in their quest of
revenge, the team became quite cheerful, even merry, in fact, before
they rolled into Alton, and so Leonard too regained his spirits. It
was almost dark by the time he and Slim turned into the yard and made
their way toward Haylow, although beyond the buildings the western sky
still showed a tint of faded gold most appropriate to the occasion. The
Sophomore Dinner was set for seven, and it was already well past five,
a fact that Slim mentioned as they reached the front of Academy Hall.
“I ought to get there a bit early, I suppose,” he added. “There’s
usually something that goes wrong at the last minute, and the other
fellows on the committee probably won’t show up until the last moment.”
A dim form detached itself from the shadows of the doorway of Academy
once the two had passed and loitered carelessly down the middle path in
the direction of the gate. Neither Slim nor Leonard saw this, however.
But, just as they went up the steps of Haylow, Leonard laid a detaining
hand on his companion’s arm.
“There’s a fellow behind that tree over there by the yellow house,”
said Leonard softly. “You can’t see him now. He poked his head around
just as we started up here.”
Slim looked, but the further side of Meadow street was wrapped in
shadows and the particular tree, seen between the posts of the
entrance, looked no different than other trees. Slim shrugged. “I don’t
see anything, General. Guess it was just a shadow.”
“No, it wasn’t. I saw the fellow’s head plainly.”
“Oh, well, what of it? Probably some kid playing hide-and-seek. I’ll
tell you, though. We’ll have a look from the window at the end of the
corridor. Come on.”
They climbed the stairs and then went along the second floor hall to
the casement that overlooked Meadow street. When they reached it and
peered surreptitiously out and down a dark form was proceeding townward
along the further sidewalk, beyond the tree. For a brief moment the
form was palely lighted as it passed under a street light, and Slim
grunted.
“Guess you were right,” he said. “Looks like one of the freshies.
Keeping tabs on me, I suppose. I wonder if there was anything in Johnny
McGrath’s guff. Just for fun, when we go in the room we’ll have a look
before we light up. There may be more of the varmints hiding about.”
“What do you suppose they’re up to?” asked Leonard.
“Search me,” said Slim. Then he chuckled. “Maybe they’re going to
kidnap us, General. Wish they’d try it, eh?”
“I guess they’re not interested in me,” replied Leonard a bit
regretfully. “See any one?”
He was looking over Slim’s shoulder, peering from the darkened window.
Outside the Academy yard was black save where the infrequent lights
along the walks shed a dim yellow radiance that sent elongated shadows
of the nearby trees sprawling off into the gloom. It was a time of
evening when most of the fellows were in the dormitories, and save for
a boy who passed under the window, whistling a football tune, to turn
in at the doorway beneath and come pounding up the stairway, the yard
appeared empty. Then Slim said “Humph!” under his breath.
“What?” asked Leonard eagerly.
“Look along the Doctor’s path about fifty or sixty feet from the middle
path. See anything?”
“N-no,” answered Leonard disappointedly.
“Well, I do. There’s some one under the tree there. Close up to the
trunk and-- There! Now he’s moving out a bit! See?”
“Yes!” exclaimed the other watcher excitedly. “What do you suppose--”
“Silly chumps,” muttered Slim amusedly. “Kid stuff! Oh, well, it amuses
them. He’ll have to leave there pretty soon and go home to supper,
though. That’ll be our chance to give them the slip. What time is it,
anyhow? Turn on the light, will you?”
“Twenty-two of six,” answered Leonard a moment later.
“Plenty of time, then. They can’t get out from supper in much less than
half an hour, and that’ll make it half-past. We’ll be gone by--” Slim
stopped and listened. “Thought I heard some one outside,” he explained,
turning his glance away from the closed door. “I was going to say that
by half-past six we’ll be over at Kingman’s. Gee, I’m tired, General!
How does my eye look?”
“Not so bad,” said Leonard. He felt gingerly of his own nose. “This
thing’s mighty sore yet. Would you do anything to it?”
“Your beak? No, not until we get back again. Bathe it in arnica then.
All it needs now is soap and water.”
The youth who had gone pounding up to the floor above a few minutes
earlier now came thumping down again. The dormitory was by no means
quiet, but the visitor’s passing sounded well above all else. Slim
frowned. “That’s the noisiest brute I ever heard,” he muttered. He
went over to the window and looked down, but all he could see in the
darkness was a dim shape going toward Lykes. “Must be wearing wooden
shoes, from the sound.” He peered in the direction of the watcher under
the tree and then pulled the green shade down. “I hope your feet are
cold out there,” he muttered.
Both boys laid aside the clothes they had worn to New Falmouth, since,
as one never knew just what might occur in the course of a class
celebration, it was customary to wear articles that were not highly
valued. Slim pulled a pair of gray flannel trousers from the closet and
hunted out an old white sweater. Leonard selected a veteran suit of
grayish tweed that, during the past summer, had served on Sundays and
holidays at the farm. They didn’t hurry in their preparations, since,
if only as a joke on the freshman spies, they meant to time their trip
to the village while the enemy was at supper. Besides, they were both
feeling the effects of the game in the shape of lame muscles and a
general disinclination to move faster than a slow walk.
Six o’clock struck while they were still dawdling and talking lazily
of the afternoon’s experiences, and doors began to open along the
corridors and the dwellers in Haylow set off for Lawrence Hall and
supper. Slim struggled into an old bath-robe and looked around for his
slippers. “I sort of think I’ll be ready to eat, myself, by the time
seven o’clock comes,” he remarked. “Where the dickens is that other
slipper of mine?”
“I’m ready now,” said Leonard. “I hope to goodness nothing happens to
that dinner before I get at it!”
“Don’t worry, General. Nothing’s going to happen to the food. I’ll bet
that right at this minute Kingman is mounting guard down there with a
shot-gun loaded with buckshot!”
“Well, then I hope that nothing happens to keep me from reaching it,”
amended Leonard, smiling.
Slim chuckled. “That’s different,” he said. “I’ll guarantee the feed,
General, but I won’t guarantee the guests. Ah, here you are, you
lopsided old reprobate!” He pulled the missing slipper from under the
further side of his bed and thrust a bare foot into it. “Guess we might
as well wash up,” he announced. “No use cutting it too fine. I don’t
run from trouble, but I don’t hunt for it, either, and maybe we’ll be
just as well off if we get inside that restaurant before the freshies
finish their supper.”
“All right,” assented Leonard. The hall was silent now and the last
footfall had ceased sounding on the pavement below. He picked up his
own robe and threw it over his present scanty costume. At that instant
there was an impatient exclamation from Slim.
“What the dickens is the matter with this door?” Slim demanded as he
turned the knob and pulled. Then, “Look here, where’s the key?” he
asked blankly.
The key was always on the inside of the lock, but it plainly wasn’t
there now. Slim and Leonard both looked about the floor. Then,
together, they seized the knob and pulled hard. The door didn’t yield.
“Locked!” said Leonard.
Slim nodded, and a broad smile crept over his face. “Locked is right,”
he chuckled. “The little varmints win the first trick, General!”
“But how? There’s been no one here!”
“Remember the fellow with the heavy tread? That’s who, I’ll bet. Got
the tip from the fellow under the tree, or some other fellow, and made
a lot of noise going upstairs and then came down again quiet and locked
us in.”
“But how could he have got the key without our hearing the door open
or--” Leonard blinked. “I see! They put the key in the outside before
we came home!”
Slim nodded. “Or had it in their pocket. Well, we’ve got to get out
somehow. There’s no use raising a riot, for no one will hear us, I
guess. Perhaps if we yelled from the window-- But, shucks, I wouldn’t
give those kids the satisfaction! If there was a transom--”
“How about the window?” interrupted Leonard.
“Rather a long drop, General, with a mighty hard landing. Wait a
minute! What fellows of our class are in Haylow? Let’s see. Joe
Conklin’s in Number 27, but that’s upstairs and on the back. He’d never
hear us. He’s probably on his way, too. Who else is there?”
“Wharton, in 4,” said Leonard. “Let’s raise a row and see if anything
happens.”
They did and nothing did happen. After several minutes of shouting and
thumping on the door and banging on the floor with a shoe they gave
it up. “Looks now,” said Slim, “like I wasn’t so smart in deciding to
wait! We’d have been wiser if we’d started earlier!” He crossed to
the window, threw it wide and looked down. “I guess I can do it,” he
murmured. Then he glanced to the right and said, “Huh, never thought of
that!”
Leonard, a shoe in one hand, was still staring perplexedly at the door
when Slim summoned him. “Give me a hand here, General,” called Slim.
“It’s only about five feet to the next window, and I can make it easy.”
Slim wriggled out of his robe and kicked off his slippers. Leonard
followed him through the window and they stood together on the broad
ledge, each with a hand hooked under the sash. “Glad those fresh kids
aren’t here to see this,” commented Slim. “Get hold of my wrist and
hold it close in to the wall. If anything happens, son, let go. Don’t
try to hold me. But I’ll make it. All right!”
Slim edged to the end of the ledge, and Leonard slowly followed him.
Then, with one hand tight around Slim’s right wrist and the other
holding fast to the sash, Leonard pressed his body close against the
edge of the embrasure while Slim reached out his left hand for a grip
on the stone work about the next window. After a moment he said: “Give
me another inch or two if you can.” Leonard obeyed. There was a moment
of suspense and then Slim announced: “All right, General. Let go!”
Rather fearfully Leonard released the other’s wrist and turned his head
to see. Slim was safe on the next sill, raising the lower sash. Then he
disappeared, and Leonard climbed back into Number 12. A moment later
the door of the next room opened and Slim’s bare feet padded along the
corridor. A key turned in the lock in front of Leonard and the door
swung in.
“Left the key in the lock,” panted Slim as he entered. “Say, we’ll have
to do some hurrying, General! Must be getting close to half-past.”
They hustled off to the lavatory and hustled back again and hurriedly
donned their clothes. Leonard looked at his watch the instant before he
put the light out. The hands pointed to twenty-four minutes after six.
Below, in the half-light of the doorway, Slim paused and looked about
inquiringly. There was no one in sight. But as they turned side by
side into the middle path that led toward Academy street voices behind
them announced that some of the fellows had finished supper and were
returning to the dormitories. At the far end of the row, Borden Hall,
the freshman dormitory, showed an occasional light, but, so far as
either Slim or Leonard could see, no forms were about the entrance.
They went on toward the gate, Slim chuckling softly.
“Guess we beat them to it, after all,” he said.
But a minute later Slim changed his mind.