BLACK MARKS.
There were about twenty students in a room that would comfortably hold
six; four of them, looking very solemn, were arranged along one side of
the room with their backs to the wall; the others were seated on such
chairs as there were or upon the floor.
The study table in the middle of the room had been cleared of books, and
a covering of newspapers had been put on top of it.
The air was thick with smoke from pipes, cigars and cigarettes. The four
who stood with their backs against the wall were not adding anything to
the fumes; they were the only ones present who were not smoking.
Every window was down and the transom was closed. It is the theory among
students that the smoker can stand a thick atmosphere, but that if one
is not smoking it soon becomes very disagreeable to him.
One would have said that this theory was correct if he had taken but a
glance into the room, for the four solemn persons looked far from well,
while the others were evidently enjoying themselves to the utmost.
Each one of the others had something in his hand besides his pipe or
cigar; two or three had brooms, some horsewhips, some baseball bats,
some canes, others umbrellas, and so on. The one who was apparently the
leader had an iron poker.
"Who is the next neophyte who wishes to become acquainted with the
mysteries of Pi Gamma?" he asked.
"It's Merriwell's turn next," answered one of the others.
"Very well, then, fetch him in."
At the mention of Merriwell's name the four solemn students against the
wall glanced at each other.
"Hi, there! Hi, there!" called several voices. "No talking to each
other!"
All the other students turned furiously upon the solemn four and glared
fiercely. One of the four opened his lips as if to say something, then
thought better of it, and shut them again.
"If you want to make a link in the mystic chain of the Pi Gamma,"
exclaimed the leader, sternly, "you'd better keep your mouth shut!"
The student thus addressed looked as if he was aching to say that he had
not said anything, but his eyes simply wavered and otherwise he remained
perfectly still.
"I guess they'll behave themselves," declared the leader. "Go out and
bring in Merriwell."
Frank was about to take his first step in the long and trying initiation
into the secret society known as the Pi Gamma. These are the two Greek
letters standing for P and G, respectively.
What they mean is known only to the members of the order, but the
society is generally known by an abbreviation of its initials.
In this way, with the characteristic humor of college students, the
order of Pi Gamma is generally known as the "Pig." So, too, members of
the order are sometimes referred to as "Pigs."
No one is supposed to take any offense at this, for, on the contrary, it
is a mark of honor to be a member of the order, and if a man can say
after he has graduated that he belonged to the "Pig," he makes it known
that his social standing was very high.
No one can become a member of this society until he has reached the
junior year; then students are elected from the junior class by the
members of the senior class in blocks of five. The initiation of each
block of five covers a period of one week.
The juniors elected at the same time with Frank were Harry Rattleton,
Jack Diamond, Bartley Hodge, and John Henderson. It was these four who
formed the quartet of silent students with their backs to the wall.
They had received their notification of election on the evening before,
and with it certain instructions. From that moment until the end of the
initiation the neophyte was forbidden to laugh, or to speak aloud unless
addressed by a "Pig" in good standing or a member of the faculty.
If he was spoken to by one of his companions, not a member of the order,
the neophyte was not to answer.
He was to attend strictly to all his college duties, and whenever he set
foot upon the campus, he was to run at full speed and not stop running
until he had left the college grounds.
He was to do without question anything commanded of him by any member of
the Pi Gamma during the week.
In Frank's case this last rule had been put to the test at once by
commanding him to go to a well-known store in the city and buy one match
and one toothpick and bring the articles to the student who asked for
them. Frank had complied promptly.
He went into this thing, as he did into everything, in a good-natured
but businesslike way.
He knew that it was the custom for students to be put in embarrassing
situations during the initiation, and he made up his mind to stand his
share of it without grumbling.
Besides the rules already noted, each of the neophytes was told to write
an essay upon a given subject and have it ready for reading on the
following evening when the senior members of the society would meet the
neophytes in Baker's room.
Baker was the president of the "Pig," and it was he who held the poker
during the deliberations.
The neophytes had assembled promptly, and then had been conducted to the
room of a senior named Rowe, from which they were called one by one to
read their essays.
Frank's turn had come last, because there was so much respect for his
nerve that the students wanted to give him a particularly hard test, and
they believed it would be more effective if they made him wait until
toward the end of the evening.
Accordingly, Rattleton and the others had been through with their essay
reading before Frank was summoned.
A couple of seniors went out after Baker gave the order, and presently
returned with Merriwell.
The latter looked as unconcerned as if he were attending an ordinary
recitation. He coughed a little as he entered the smoky room, and then
said, "Good-evening, gentlemen," in his pleasantest tone.
"Ah, ah! Put down one black mark," exclaimed Baker, severely.
Frank looked surprised. He had been told when notified of his election
that black marks would be entered against the name of every candidate
for every disobedience of the rules, and that if a neophyte got as many
as ten black marks he would not be permitted to become a member.
"The neophyte has evidently forgotten the rule about speaking aloud,"
remarked Baker.
Every one of the seniors present took out a little memorandum and made a
mark against Merriwell's name.
Frank had really forgotten the rule for the moment, and his lips parted
to say, "Beg pardon," or something of that kind, when it occurred to him
that that would bring him another black mark.
In fact, the instant his mouth opened, out came the memorandum books,
but he shut his lips hard together, and the books went back into the
students' pockets.
"We will begin with a little music," remarked Baker. "Neophyte
Rattleton, come forward."
Rattleton at once stepped up and stood in front of Frank. Their eyes
met, but each kept his face steady.
"Neophyte Merriwell," continued Baker, placing his hand upon Rattleton's
shoulder, "this is a bass viol. This is your bow," and he handed him an
umbrella. "We want you to play Mendelssohn's Wedding March."
Frank took the umbrella and looked from Rattleton to Baker in amazement.
"Play, neophyte," thundered Baker.
Frank was not certain whether he caught the idea or not, but after a
little further hesitation, he took Rattleton by the shoulder and moved
the umbrella back and forth across that young man's stomach two or three
times.
"We don't hear any music!" bawled the seniors in chorus.
"Give him a black mark, then!" commanded Baker.
Out came the memorandum books, and down went another black mark against
Frank's name.
"Whew!" he thought, "this won't do! I must be slow or stupid; if I don't
catch on pretty soon I'll get more black marks against me than I can
stand."
"Give us something that we can hear!" roared the seniors.
The three juniors who had been through it and who were still standing
with their backs against the wall, were having a particularly hard time
of it just now. Their lips were twitching with an almost uncontrollable
desire to laugh.
Frank caught Rattleton again by the shoulder and again sawed the
umbrella back and forth across his stomach, at the same time grunting in
a wheezy way to imitate the sounds of a bass fiddle.
"You're out of tune!" cried one of the seniors.
"Play louder!" shouted another.
"He's playing on the open strings all the time!" exclaimed a third.
"Make him move his fingers, won't you?"
Frank caught this idea at once, and, throwing his left arm around
Rattleton's shoulders, he moved his fingers up and down on Rattleton's
chest as if he were touching the strings of an instrument. Meantime he
kept up his grunting and humming as loud as he knew how.
The seniors roared with merriment. Rattleton was shaking with laughter,
and the three solemn juniors against the wall looked as if they would
explode.
Frank was perspiring in the effort to do the thing as ridiculously as he
knew how, and yet keep his face straight.
"Oh, but look here!" cried Baker, suddenly, "this won't do!"
He took out his memorandum book, and all the students followed suit.
Frank stopped fiddling.
"Keep on until I tell you to stop!" cried Baker. "That's a black mark,
anyway."
In despair of ever doing anything right, Frank began to saw away again
for dear life.
"I call your attention," shouted Baker, above the uproar, "to the fact
that this neophyte is making loud sounds with his voice."
"That must be a black mark, then!" declared the other seniors, taking
out their books.
Frank wanted to protest that he had been told to make a noise, and that
he could not very well obey one rule without breaking the other, but he
thought it best to keep quiet.
He learned later that the complaint against his making a loud noise was
made for the very purpose of causing him to protest, for that would have
brought another black mark against him.
As he kept his mouth firmly closed the seniors failed to catch him
there, but they put a black mark down nevertheless, so that within the
first five minutes of his initiation Frank had had four points scored
against him.