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"No, no; I vos dance so hard as I can!" panted Hans, and renewed his exertions until Tom could keep in no longer, and set up such a laugh as had not been heard around the Hall for many a day. It is needless to add that the other boys joined in, still, however, keeping out of sight.
"You're a corker, Hans!" cried Tom in his natural voice. "You ought to join the buck-and-wing dancers in a minstrel company."
"Vot--vot--?" began the German boy in bewilderment. "Ain't you no Indian?"
"To be sure I am; I'm Big Wolf, the Head Dancing Master of the Tuscaroras, Hans, dear boy. Don't you think I'm a stunner."
"You vos Tom Rofer, made up," growled Hans in sudden and deep disgust. "Vot for you vos blay me such a drick as dis, hey?"
"Just to wake you up, Hans."
"I ton't vos been asleep, not me!"
"I mean to stir up your ideas--put something new into your head."
"Mine head vos all right, Tom."
"To be sure it is."
"Den vot you say you vos put somedings new py him, hey?"
"I mean to make you sharper-put you on your mettle."
"I ton't understand," stammered the German youth hopelessly.
"That's so, and you won't in a thousand years, Hans. But you are the right sort, any way."
"I d.i.n.k I blay me Indian mineselluf some tay," mused Hans. "Dot vos lots of fun to make me tance, vosn't it? Vere you got dot bistol?"
"Down in the barn. Look out, or it may go off," added Tom, as he held out the weapons, thinking Hans would draw back in alarm.
Instead, however, the German boy took the pistol and of a sudden pointed it at Tom's head.
"Now you tance!" he cried abruptly. "Tance, or I vos shoot you full of holes!"
"Hi, Tom; he's got the best of you now!" cried Frank from behind the bushes.
"You can't make me dance, Hans," returned Tom. "That old rusty iron hasn't been loaded for years."
"It ton't vos no goot? No. Maybe you vos only fool me."
"Pull the trigger and see," answered Tom coolly.
He had scarcely spoken when Hans Mueller did as advised. A tremendous report followed, and when the smoke cleared away the boys in the bushes were horrified to see that the rusty pistol had been shattered into a thousand pieces and that both Tom and Hans lay on their backs in the road, their faces covered with blood.
CHAPTER VI
THE STRANGE FIGURE IN THE HALLWAY
At the fearful outcome of the joke Tom had been perpetrating the boys concealed in the bushes were almost struck dumb, and for several seconds n.o.body could speak or move.
"Oh, Heavens, Tom is killed!" burst out d.i.c.k, who was the first to find his voice. He ran forth as speedily as possible, and one after another the other cadets followed.
Tom lay as quiet as death, with his eyes closed and the blood trickling over his temple and left cheek. Quickly d.i.c.k knelt by his side and felt of his heart.
"Tom, Tom, speak to me! Tell me you are not seriously hurt!" he faltered.
But no answer came back, and Sam raced off to get some water, which he brought in a tin can he had discovered lying handy. The water was dashed over Toni's face, and presently he gave a little gasp.
"Oh my! what struck me?" he murmured, and then tried to sit up, but for the minute the effort was a failure.
"The pistol exploded," said Frank. "A piece must have hit you on the head," and he pointed at a nasty scalp wound from which the flow of blood emanated.
As well as it could be done, Frank and d.i.c.k bound up Tom's head with a handkerchief, and presently the fun-loving lad declared himself about as well as ever, "Only a bit light-headed," as he added.
In the meantime the others had given their attention to Hans, who had been struck both in the scalp and in the shoulder. It was a good quarter of an hour before the German youth came around, and then he felt so weak that the boys had to a.s.sist him back to the academy.
"Honestly, I thought the pistol was empty," said Tom, on the return to the Hall. "Why, I think I've pulled that trigger a dozen times."
"Don't mention it," said Frank with a s.h.i.+ver. "Why, only last week I pointed the thing at Peleg Snuggers and played at firing it. Supposing it had gone off and killed somebody?"
And he s.h.i.+vered again.
"Dot vos almost as pad as von Indian's schalping," put in Hans faintly. "I d.i.n.k, Tom, you vos play no more such dricks, hey?"
"No, I've had enough," replied Tom very soberly. "If you had been killed or seriously hurt I would never have forgiven myself." And it may be added here that for some time after this event fun-making and Tom were strangers to each other.
At the proper time the feast which had been planned came off, and proved to be an event not readily forgotten. It was no easy matter to obtain the good things required, and the boys ran the risk of being discovered by George Strong and punished; but by midnight everything was ready, and soon eating was "in full blast," to use Sam's way of expressing it.
A few of the boys from the other dormitories had been invited, and the boys took turns in standing out in the hall on guard.
"You see," explained Tom, "Mr. Strong may come in, and I won't be able to play nightmare again, as I did last year."
"Say, but that was a prime joke," laughed Frank.
"And Mumps!" cried Larry. "I'll never forget the orange flavored with kerosene," and a general laugh followed.
Somebody had spoken of inviting Jim Caven to the feast, but no one cared particularly for the fellow, and he had been left out.
"Perhaps he'll tell on us," suggested Larry, but Frank shook his head.
"He hasn't got backbone enough to do it. He's a worse coward than Mumps was."
Soon it came time for Sam to do his turn at guarding, and stuffing a big bit of candy in his mouth, the youngest Rover stepped out into the dimly lit hallway and sat down on a low stool which one of the guards had placed there.