THE LAST STAGE.
It was Diamond's turn next, and he went off the edge as promptly as
Rattleton had. The same sort of action followed his jump, and Frank was
surprised that Diamond appeared to have swallowed as much water as Harry
had.
"I should have thought Diamond would keep his mouth closed," thought
Frank.
Hodge's turn came next, and he, too, left the bridge promptly.
Henderson weakened when the command came to him. Instead of jumping he
drew back with a little gasp.
"Jump, neophyte!" exclaimed Baker, in a low but stern voice. "It's too
late for you to hope for any special consideration now. What others have
done you must do, too!"
"Great Scott!" muttered Henderson.
Frank heard his steps wavering upon the planks, and then, with a little
quivering cry, the frightened neophyte jumped over. The splash that
followed his jump was very loud, and it was followed by a lot more of
splashing.
"Thunder and Mars!" cried Baker, "the rope's broken."
"Do you suppose he can swim?" inquired the voice of Rowe, anxiously.
"How can he with his hands tied?"
"Then he'll drown."
"We mustn't let him!"
"Did one of you bring along that boat hook that I told you to bring?"
"Yes, here it is."
"Catch it into his clothes before he floats too far."
"Whew! how fast the tide runs!"
"Have you got him?"
"Yes. No! the hook's got loose."
"Try again, then, quick!"
"Good Lord! suppose he's become unconscious from fear, there'd be no
saving him then."
Frank ached to have his bandage removed and his hands unbound so that he
could go to the help of his companion.
"When it comes my turn to conduct an initiation I'll bet I'll fix things
so that there won't be any such accident as this," he thought. "It's
outrageous to put an unoffending fellow like Henderson through this sort
of trial and then let a slip occur."
It was a great temptation to Frank then to forcibly release his hands
and jump into the water after Henderson, but he reflected that after all
there were plenty of seniors present who had courage and who knew the
water well.
He decided that it was best to leave the matter in their hands, but he
listened anxiously for some sound of Henderson's voice to assure him
that all was well.
He did not hear Henderson's voice, but he did hear a great many more
exclamations of anxiety and doubt as the seniors seemed at last to get
the big hook securely fastened in the neophyte's clothing.
Then there was a lot of tugging and hauling, and after a time the sound
of retreating footsteps.
"I guess Henderson will come out of it all right," thought Frank, "for
it seems that he can walk."
"It's nearly time to close the draw," said Baker, hastily. "Now,
Neophyte Merriwell, it's your turn. Remember your instructions, and when
I give the word, jump."
Frank shrugged his shoulders. It was a slight action, but the seniors
could see it, for a big electric lamp upon one of the bridge pillars
lighted the scene brilliantly. It was very evident that Merriwell's
nerve had not been shaken.
"Be ready to pull him out at once, boys, and don't let the rope slip
this time!" said Baker. "One--two----"
Baker spoke very slowly, and although he appeared to be perfectly
unmoved, Frank's heart nevertheless was beating fast He wondered how far
he would fall before he struck the water.
He dreaded the chill that would come upon him suddenly, but he had no
fear of the result, and he was fully determined that he would do his
share in this as promptly and boldly as any man who had ever been
initiated.
"Three!" said Baker. "Jump!"
Frank leaped at once, far out from the bridge. He had his lips tightly
closed, and he held his breath to avoid taking in a lot of water.
To his immense surprise he did not touch the water at all. He could not
have fallen two feet before he was caught in strong arms and lifted back
to the bridge.
Nevertheless he heard a loud splash and a voice saying:
"Pull him out at once."
"Oh, come off, Rowe!" exclaimed Baker, in a loud tone of voice, "have
you forgotten that there's nobody to follow Merriwell?"
"Yes, that's so," was the reply, "I'd clean forgotten that."
"Well, I'll be hanged!" exclaimed Frank, "if this isn't a worse shock
than jumping into the river itself. Was that the way you treated the
rest of them?"
"Give him a black mark for talking," said Baker, with a hearty laugh.
Frank said "Humph!" but nothing else as the students hurried him across
the bridge back to land.
He was immensely amused by the experience, and on the way to the society
rooms he thought it all out, and came to a conclusion on the matter that
was very nearly correct.
At high tide the water in the Quinnepiac River comes almost to a level
with the bridge.
The boys always arrange their initiations in such a way that the bridge
test shall take place at high tide, and they choose an hour when no
trains are due to pass.
Then a small fee persuades the bridge keeper to open the draw. A big,
flat-bottomed boat is procured and made fast to the bridge just in front
of the open edge.
Half a dozen of the students get into this boat; some of them receive
the leaping neophyte in their arms and clap their hands over his mouth
so that he shall not cry out.
At the same time other students topple a big log into the water so as to
make a splash.
The rest of the farce is carried on as described, with the result of
making the waiting neophytes believe that their companion has had a cold
plunge into the river.
Time was when the students made the neophytes really jump into the
water, but it was found that many a student whose nerve was supposed to
be perfectly good, suffered such a shock from sudden contact with the
water that he became seriously ill, so that test was modified in the
manner described.
The last stage of the initiation that can be described was one of the
most ridiculous.
Frank was still blindfolded and bound. He was led, he knew not where,
but at last halted within a doorway. There his hands were untied and he
was told to kneel.
He did so, and found that he was at the foot of a flight of stairs.
"You are now going to ascend," said Baker, solemnly, "to the mystic
regions of Pi Gamma. It is becoming that a neophyte should enter there
in a modest attitude, therefore you will go on your hands and knees
until commanded to rise. Proceed."
Frank immediately began to climb the steps upon his hands and knees. The
moment he began to move his ears were fairly deafened with a hideous
uproar.
It seemed as if a tribe of demons had been let loose around him. There
was an infernal clatter, made, as he afterward learned, by beating upon
tin pans and shaking large squares of sheet iron.
There was a chorus of savage yells and shrieking. The air was foul with
the odor of firecrackers that were exploded close to his ears. Every
kind of barbaric noise that student ingenuity can invent was brought
into play.
"By the bones of Caesar!" thought Frank. "If I hadn't been pretty well
seasoned by adventures before this, I believe I should be scared."
As it was, far from being scared, he shook with laughter as he slowly
and patiently climbed up the stairs. It seemed as if they would never
end.
It was a winding stairway, and went from the ground clear to the top of
the high building.
Later he learned that this was a back stairway built expressly for the
students, whose society rooms were in the top of the building.
It seemed to him as if he had climbed higher than the top of the
Washington monument when at last he found no steps in front of him, and
the diabolical racket ceased as suddenly as it had begun.
He was told to rise, and he did so with a sigh of relief. He was then
led two or three paces and ordered to sit down.
He did so, and felt that he was in something like a swing. There were
chains at each side of him, holding the seat. He was told to grasp these
chains tightly, and hang on, lest he be dropped the entire distance to
the ground.
"That would be a pretty long fall," thought Frank, who at the moment
really believed that there was a well beneath him that extended clear to
the bottom of the building; so he gripped the chains and heard the voice
of Baker crying:
"All ready, send him up."
"I'd like to know how much farther up I can go," thought Frank.
He heard the creaking of a windlass and knew that he was rising. As he
went up his seat swung back and forth a little, making him feel all the
more how important it was that he should hang on securely.
This journey was as long, and in one sense as trying as the climb
upstairs had been. There was no noise in connection with it, except the
constant creaking of the windlass.
Blindfolded as he was, it really seemed as if he had been hauled up at
least a hundred feet when at last the creaking ceased and he was lifted
from his seat.
Then he was laid upon an inclined plane, feet downward. It seemed steep,
too, and when his fingers accidentally touched the little rail at the
side he noticed that it was well greased.
He did not need to be told then what was to happen, for he knew that he
would be sent whizzing down this plane to land--somewhere.
"Is the tank all ready?" asked somebody, who was holding Frank by the
shoulders and thus keeping him from sliding down.
"Yes," came a muffled voice that seemed far, far below. "Let him go!"
The hands on Frank's shoulders were released, and he promptly began to
rush down the plane.
In less than a second his feet had come in contact with a mattress, and
as the force of his fall brought him to an upright position, a glass of
water was flung into his face.
At the same instant the bandage was torn from his eyes, the hood raised,
and he found himself standing in a well-lighted room surrounded by a
group of laughing and interested seniors.
He turned with an expression of the utmost amazement to the plane down
which he had slid. He saw that the distance up which he had been slowly
raised by the windlass was less than ten feet.