CHAPTER VIII
THE KIDNAPING
Fanwell Livingston was curled in the window-seat in his front room, hisbook close to the bleared pane, striving to find light enough by whichto study. Outside it was raining in a weary, desultory way, and theheavens were leaden-hued. Livingston's quarters were on the front ofthat big lemon-yellow house at the corner of Oak and King Streets, aboutequidistant from campus and field. The outlook to-day was far frominspiriting. When he raised his eyes from the pages before him he saw anempty road running with water; beyond that a bare, weed-grown, soddenfield that stretched westward to the unattractive backs of the one-andtwo-storied shops on Main Street. Livingston's room wasn't in any sensecentral, but he liked it because it was quiet, because aside from thefamily he had the house to himself, and because Mrs. Saunders, hislandlady, was goodness itself and administered to his comfort almost ashis own mother would have done.
The freshman president laid aside his book, grimaced at the drearyprospect, and took out his watch. "Ten minutes after five," he murmured."Heavens, what a beastly dark day! I'll have to start to get dressedbefore long. Too bad we've got such weather for the affair." He glancedirresolutely toward the gas-fixture, and from thence to where hisevening clothes lay spread out on the couch. For it was the evening ofthe Freshman Class Dinner. While he was striving to find energywherewith to tear himself from the soft cushions and make a light,footsteps sounded outside his door, and some one demanded admission.
"Come in!" he called.
The door swung open, was closed swiftly and softly again, and NeilFletcher crossed the room. He looked rather like a tramp; his hat was amisshapen thing of felt from which the water dripped steadily as hetossed it aside; his sweater--he wore no coat--was soaking wet; and histrousers and much-darned golf stockings were in scarcely bettercondition. His hair looked as though he had just taken his head from awater-bucket, and his face bespoke excitement.
"They're coming after you, Livingston," he cried in an intense whisper."I heard Cowan telling Carey in the locker-room a minute ago; theydidn't know I was there; it was dark as dark. They've got a carriage,and there are going to be nearly a dozen of them. I ran all the way assoon as I got on to Oak Street. There wasn't time to get any of thefellows together, so I just sneaked right over here. You can get out nowand go--somewhere--to our room or the library. They won't look for youthere, eh? There's a fellow at the corner watching, but I don't think hesaw me, and I can settle with him; or maybe you could get out the backway and double round by the railroad? You can't stay here, becausethey're coming right away; Cowan said--"
"For heaven's sake, Fletcher, what do you mean?" asked Livingston. "Youdon't want me to believe that they're really going to run off with me?"
Neil, gasping for breath, subsided on to the window-seat and nodded hishead vigorously. "That's just what I do mean. There's no doubt about it,my friend. Didn't I tell you I heard Cowan--"
"Oh, Cowan!"
"I know, but it was all in earnest. Carey and he are on their way toPike's stable for the carriage, and the others are to meet there.They've had fellows watching you all day. There's one at the cornernow--a tall, long-nosed chap that I've seen in class. So get your thingsand get out as soon as you can move."
Livingston, with his hands in his pockets, stared thoughtfully out ofthe window, Neil watching him impatiently and listening apprehensivelyfor the sound of carriage wheels down the street.
"It doesn't seem to me that they could be idiots enough to attempt sucha silly trick," said Livingston at last. "You--you're quite sure youweren't mistaken--that they weren't stringing you?"
"They didn't know I was there!" cried Neil in exasperation. "I went inlate--Mills had us blocking kicks--and was changing my things over in adark corner when they hurried in and went over into the next alley andbegan to talk. At first they were whispering, but after a bit theytalked loud enough for me to hear every word."
"Well, anyhow--and I'm awfully much obliged, Fletcher--I don't intend torun from a few sophs. I'll lock the front door and this one and letthem hammer."
"But--"
"Nonsense; when they find they can't get in they'll get tired and goaway."
"And you'll go out and get nabbed at the corner! That's a cleverprogram, I don't think!" cried Neil in intense scorn. "Now you listen tome, Livingston. What you want to do is to put your glad rags in a bagand--What's that?"
He leaped to his feet and peered out of the window. Just within hisrange of vision a carriage, drawn by two dripping, sorry-looking nags,drew up under the slight shelter of an elm-tree about fifty yards awayfrom the house. From it emerged eight fellows in rain-coats, while thetall, long-nosed watcher whom Neil had seen at the corner joined themand made his report. The group looked toward Livingston's window andNeil dodged back.
"It's too late now," he whispered. "There they are."
"Look a bit damp, don't they," laughed Livingston softly as he peeredout over the other's shoulder. "I'll go down and lock the door."
"No, stay here," said Neil. "I'll look after that; they might get you. Iwish it wasn't so dark! How about the back way? Can't you get out thereand sneak around by the field?"
"I told you I wasn't going to run away from them," replied his host,"and I haven't changed my mind."
"You're an obstinate ass!" answered Neil. He scowled at the calm andsmiling countenance of the freshman president a moment, and then turnedquickly and pulled the shades at the windows. "I've got it!" he cried."Look here, will you do as I tell you? If you do I promise you we'llfool them finely."
"I'm not going out of this room," objected Livingston.
"Yes, you are--into the next one. And you're going to lock the doorbehind you; and I'm going to look after our sophomore callers. Now goahead. Do as I tell you, or I'll go off and leave you to be eatenalive!" Neil, grinning delightedly, thrust the unwilling Livingstonbefore him. "Now lock the door and keep quiet. No matter what you hear,keep quiet and stay in there."
"But--"
"You be hanged!" Neil pulled to the bed-room door, and listened until heheard the key turn on the other side. Then he stole to the window and,lifting a corner of the shade, peeped out. The group of sophomores wereno longer in sight, but at that moment he heard the front door closesoftly. There was no time to lose. He found a match and hurriedlylighted one burner over the study table. Then, turning it down to a mereblue point of light, he flung himself back among the cushions on thewindow-seat, and with a heart that hammered violently at hisribs waited.
Almost in the next moment there were sounds of shuffling feet outsidethe study door, a low voice, and then a knock. Neil took a long breath.
"Come in," he called drowsily.
The door opened. Neil arose and walked to the gas-fixture, knocking overa chair on his way.
"Come in, whoever you are," he muttered. "Guess I was almost asleep." Hereached 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 turnedthe pesky thing out! Just stand still until I find a match or you'llbreak your shins." He groped his way toward the mantel. Now was thesophomores' opportunity, and they seized it. Neil had done his best toimitate Livingston's careful and rather precise manner of speaking, andthe invaders, few of whom even knew the president of the freshmanclass by sight, never for an instant doubted that they had captured him.
Neil found himself suddenly seized by strong arms. With a cry ofsimulated 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 thedoor, out into the hall and down the stairs. When the front door wasthrown open Neil was alarmed to find that although almost dark it wasstill light enough for his captors to discover their mistake. Hiding hisface as best he could, he lifted his voice in loud cries for help. Itworked like a charm. Instantly a carriage robe was thrown over his headand he was hurried down the steps, across the muddy
sidewalk, and intothe waiting vehicle which had been driven up before the house. Onceinside, Neil was safe from detection, for the hack, the shades drawn upbefore the windows, was as dark as Egypt. Neil sighed his relief,muttered a few perfunctory threats from behind the uncomfortable foldsof the ill-smelling robe, and, with one fellow sitting on his chest andthree 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 carriagecreak on its aged hinges; hear the shriek of a distant locomotive asthey approached the railroad. His captors were congratulatingthemselves on the success of their venture.
"Easier than I thought it'd be," said one, and at the reply Neilfiguratively pricked up his ears.
"Pshaw, I knew we'd have no trouble; Livingston was so cock-sure that wewouldn't try it that he'd probably forgotten all about it. I guess thatconceited little fool Fletcher will talk out of the other side of hismouth for a while now. What do you think? He had the nerve to tell melast week that he guessed _he_ could prevent a kidnaping, as there wereonly about a hundred of us sophs!"
The others laughed.
"Well, he is a chesty young kid, isn't he?" asked a third speaker. "Iguess 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 nowand give him a breath of air. We don't want a corpse on our hands."
The sophomores found seats and the robe was unwound from about Neil'shead, much to that youth's delight. He took a good long breath and,grinning enjoyably in the darkness, settled himself to make the best ofhis predicament. Now that he had discovered Tom Cowan to be one of hisabductors, he was filled with such glee that he found it hard work tokeep silent. But he did, and all the gibes of his captors, uttered inquite 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 liketo 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 speakercoldly. "What I dislike about you, Cowan, is that you are never able toforget 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'remighty tiresome."
"Don't let it trouble you," was the calm reply. Some one laugheddrowsily. Then there was silence save for the sound of the horses' feet,the complaining of the well-worn hack and the occasional voice of thedriver outside on the box. Neil began to feel rather drowsy himself; themotion was lulling, and now that they had crossed the railroad-track andreached the turnpike along the river, the carriage traveled smoothly. Itwas black night outside now, and through the nearest window at which thecurtain had been lowered Neil could see nothing save an occasionallight in some house. He didn't know where he was being taken, and didn'tmuch care. They rolled steadily on for half an hour longer, during whichtime two at least of his captors proclaimed their contentment by loudsnoring. Then the carriage slowed down, the sleeping ones were awakened,and a moment later a flood of light entering the window told Neil thatthe journey was at an end.
"Far as we go," said some one. "All out here and take the car ahead!" Adoor was opened, two of his captors got out, and Neil was politelyinvited to follow. He did so. Before him was the open door of afarm-house from which the light streamed hospitably. It was stilldrizzling, and Neil took shelter on the porch unchallenged; now that theabductors had got him some five miles from Centerport, they were not soattentive. The others came up the steps and the carriage was led awaytoward the barn.
"If your Excellency will have the kindness to enter the house," saidBaker, with low obeisance, "he will find accommodations which, while farfrom befitting your Excellency's dignity, are, unfortunately, the bestat our command."
Neil accepted the invitation silently, and entering the doorway, foundhimself in a well-lighted room wherein a table was set for supper. Theothers followed, Cowan grinning from ear to ear in anticipation of thevictim's discomfiture. In his eagerness he was the first to catch sightof Neil's face. With a howl of surprise he sprang back, almostupsetting 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 thelight. Neil turned and faced them smilingly. The four stared inbewilderment. It was Baker who first found words.
"_Well, I'll--be--hanged_!" he murmured.
Neil turned placidly to the discomfited Cowan.
"You see, Cowan," he said sweetly, "one against a hundred isn't such bigodds, after all, is it?"