Part 10 (1/2)

”Come in, whoever you are,” he muttered. ”Guess I was almost asleep.” He reached up a hand and turned out the gas. The room, almost dark before, was now blackness from wall to wall. ”Pshaw,” said Neil, ”I've turned the pesky thing out! Just stand still until I find a match or you'll break your s.h.i.+ns.” He groped his way toward the mantel. Now was the soph.o.m.ores' opportunity, and they seized it. Neil had done his best to imitate Livingston's careful and rather precise manner of speaking, and the invaders, few of whom even knew the president of the freshman cla.s.s by sight, never for an instant doubted that they had captured him.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Neil found himself suddenly seized by strong arms. With a cry of simulated surprise, he struggled feebly.

”Here, what's up, fellows?” he remonstrated. ”Look out, I tell you!

_Don't do that_!”

Then he was borne, protesting and kicking, feet foremost, through the door, out into the hall and down the stairs. When the front door was thrown open Neil was alarmed to find that although almost dark it was still light enough for his captors to discover their mistake. Hiding his face as best he could, he lifted his voice in loud cries for help. It worked like a charm. Instantly a carriage robe was thrown over his head and he was hurried down the steps, across the muddy sidewalk, and into the waiting vehicle which had been driven up before the house. Once inside, Neil was safe from detection, for the hack, the shades drawn up before the windows, was as dark as Egypt. Neil sighed his relief, muttered a few perfunctory threats from behind the uncomfortable folds of the ill-smelling robe, and, with one fellow sitting on his chest and three others holding his legs, felt the carriage start.

Despite the enveloping folds about his head he could hear quite well; hear the horses' feet go _squish-squash_ in the mud; hear the carriage creak on its aged hinges; hear the shriek of a distant locomotive as they approached the railroad. His captors were congratulating themselves on the success of their venture.

”Easier than I thought it'd be,” said one, and at the reply Neil figuratively p.r.i.c.ked up his ears.

”Pshaw, I knew we'd have no trouble; Livingston was so c.o.c.k-sure that we wouldn't try it that he'd probably forgotten all about it. I guess that conceited little fool Fletcher will talk out of the other side of his mouth for a while now. What do you think? He had the nerve to tell me last week that he guessed _he_ could prevent a kidnaping, as there were only about a hundred of us sophs!”

The others laughed.

”Well, he is a chesty young kid, isn't he?” asked a third speaker. ”I guess it's just as well we didn't have to kidnap _him_, eh? By the way, our friend here seems ill at ease. Maybe we'd better get off of him now and give him a breath of air. We don't want a corpse on our hands.”

The soph.o.m.ores found seats and the robe was unwound from about Neil's head, much to that youth's delight. He took a good long breath and, grinning enjoyably in the darkness, settled himself to make the best of his predicament. Now that he had discovered Tom Cowan to be one of his abductors, he was filled with such glee that he found it hard work to keep silent. But he did, and all the gibes of his captors, uttered in quite the most polite language imaginable, failed to elicit a reply.

”Beautiful evening for a drive, is it not?” asked one.

”I trust you had not planned to attend the freshman dinner to-night?”

asked another. ”For I fear we shall be late in reaching home.”

”You are quite comfortable? Is there any particular road you would like to drive? any part of our lovely suburbs you care to visit?”

”Surly brute!” growled a fourth, who was Cowan. ”Let's make him speak, eh? Let's twist his arm a bit.”

”You sit still or I'll punch your thick head,” said the first speaker coldly. ”What I dislike about you, Cowan, is that you are never able to forget that you're a mucker. I wish you'd try,” he continued wearily, ”it's so monotonous.”

Cowan was silent an instant; then laughed uncertainly.

”I suppose you fancy you're a wit, Baker,” he said, ”but I think you're mighty tiresome.”

”Don't let it trouble you,” was the calm reply. Some one laughed drowsily. Then there was silence save for the sound of the horses' feet, the complaining of the well-worn hack and the occasional voice of the driver outside on the box. Neil began to feel rather drowsy himself; the motion was lulling, and now that they had crossed the railroad-track and reached the turnpike along the river, the carriage traveled smoothly. It was black night outside now, and through the nearest window at which the curtain had been lowered Neil could see nothing save an occasional light in some house. He didn't know where he was being taken, and didn't much care. They rolled steadily on for half an hour longer, during which time two at least of his captors proclaimed their contentment by loud snoring. Then the carriage slowed down, the sleeping ones were awakened, and a moment later a flood of light entering the window told Neil that the journey was at an end.

”Far as we go,” said some one. ”All out here and take the car ahead!” A door was opened, two of his captors got out, and Neil was politely invited to follow. He did so. Before him was the open door of a farm-house from which the light streamed hospitably. It was still drizzling, and Neil took shelter on the porch unchallenged; now that the abductors had got him some five miles from Centerport, they were not so attentive. The others came up the steps and the carriage was led away toward the barn.

”If your Excellency will have the kindness to enter the house,” said Baker, with low obeisance, ”he will find accommodations which, while far from befitting your Excellency's dignity, are, unfortunately, the best at our command.”

Neil accepted the invitation silently, and entering the doorway, found himself in a well-lighted room wherein a table was set for supper. The others followed, Cowan grinning from ear to ear in antic.i.p.ation of the victim's discomfiture. In his eagerness he was the first to catch sight of Neil's face. With a howl of surprise he sprang back, almost upsetting Baker.

”What's the matter with you?” cried the latter. Cowan made no answer, but stared stupidly at Neil.

”Eh? What?” Baker sprang forward and wheeled their victim into the light. Neil turned and faced them smilingly. The four stared in bewilderment. It was Baker who first found words.

”_Well, I'll--be--hanged_!” he murmured.