Part 36 (1/2)

He handed one to the messenger, and kept one himself.

”'Twas yours, 'tis mine; 'twas his, 'tis ours,” he paraphrased. ”Again let me express my sincere sorrow at this happening. I trust there was nothing in your package that could be damaged when I knocked it from your grasp.”

”No, nothing but some clothes of one of the college professors. It's all right.”

”And I'm sure my package isn't damaged,” said Sid, in a queer voice, as he hurried away.

A little later he was telling Tom, with much mirth, how it all came about. The two, in the seclusion of their room, opened the bundle, and saw two suits, one full dress.

”Won't he howl when he finds nothing but a lot of newspapers!” exclaimed Sid. ”Now for the rest of the trick.”

”Maybe he'll borrow a dress suit from some student,” said Tom.

”Not much he won't,” replied Sid. ”I thought of that, and I forwarded a message by wireless to all the dormitories that if Pitchfork sent around to borrow some glad rags, he was to be refused on some pretext or other.”

Sid's precaution was well taken. A little later it was evident that something unusual had occurred. Wallops and several other college messengers were seen hurrying first to the rooms of one professor, then to the apartments of another. Each time the scouts came back empty-handed to that part of the faculty residence where Professor Tines dwelt.

”I knew they had no spike-tails that would fit him,” exulted Sid.

”Besides, most of them are going to the reception themselves.”

There was consternation in the apartments of Professor Tines. Wallops had delivered to him the bundle of papers, and when the astonished instructor had threatened and questioned him, the unfortunate messenger could only say it was the package he had received from the tailor. That worthy, on being appealed to by telephone, declared that he had sent home the professor's garments. Wallops had no idea that the stranger he met in the wood had played a transformation trick on him, and Professor Tines, in his anxiety to get dressed, and go to the reception, did not dream that it was a student prank. Rather he blamed the tailor, and made up his mind to sue the man for heavy damages.

Then, just as Sid had expected, the instructor endeavored to borrow a dress-suit from one of the students. But they had been warned, and were either going to wear their suits themselves, or had just sent them to the tailor.

”What shall I do?” wailed Professor Tines. ”I can't go in this suit,”

and he looked at his acid-and-chalk-marked cla.s.sroom garments. ”Yet I was to read a paper on early Roman life at this reception. It is too provoking. I can't understand why none of the students have a suit available.”

”You could have one of mine, only----” began Dr. Churchill as he looked first at the figure of the professor, and then at himself. ”I'm afraid it wouldn't fit,” he added.

”No--no, of course not!” exclaimed Mr. Tines distractedly. ”I will telephone that rascally tailor again. Never, never shall he press another suit of mine!”

But the knight of the goose and needle insisted that the professor's clothes had been sent home, and that was all there was to it. Mr. Tines could not go to the reception, and, as it was an important affair, where nearly all of the faculty was expected to be present, he was grievously disappointed.

When all was quiet that night a party of students, including Sid and Tom, stole out to the campus. They worked quickly and silently.

”There!” exclaimed Sid, when all was finished. ”I rather guess that will astonish him!”

In the morning the attention of most of the college students, and several of the faculty, was attracted to a throng of pa.s.sersby staring up at the flagstaff. They would halt, point upward, make some remarks, and then, laughing, pa.s.s on. Some one called the attention of Dr.

Churchill to it.

”Why, bless my soul!” he exclaimed as he prepared to go out. ”I hope none of the students have put the flag at half mast or upside down.”

He put on his far-seeing spectacles, and walked out on the campus.

There, at the top of the pole, was a figure which looked like a man, with outstretched arms.

”What student has dared climb up there?” exclaimed the head of the college. ”Send for Mr. Zane at once,” he added to Professor Newton, who had accompanied him. ”He must be severely punished--the venturesome student, I mean.”

”I hardly think that is a student,” replied Mr. Newton.

”Do you mean to say it is some outsider?”