Frank Merriwell's Return to Yale Part 31

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 a.s.sembled 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 ba.s.s 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 ba.s.s 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.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE TEST OF NERVE.

Frank felt really worried about it, although it did seem to him that the marking was absurdly unfair.

"These fellows haven't any reason to complain of a professor's marking of examination papers," he thought, "if this is the way they treat a fellow student."

"It's nearly time for the test of nerve," remarked Baker, "and we'd better have the essay read before this neophyte gets so many black marks that his case will be hopeless. Get up on that table, Merriwell."