"You fellows will have to brush up a bit on your speed and curves," went on the bully manager. "Isn't that right, Luke?"

"Sure," grunted the captain. There was more talk, but it was not of the fiery kind and, for the time, at least, the threatened disruption had pa.s.sed. But there was still an undercurrent of dissatisfaction against Luke and Hiram.

"Well, I don't see as it did an awful lot of good," remarked Tom Davis to Peaches and Teeter, as they walked out of the gymnasium with Joe, a little later. "I don't see that Joe is benefitted."

"I didn't expect much," spoke our hero. "It was well meant and----"

"And it did good, too," interrupted Teeter. "It's the first time any one ever talked to Hiram like a Dutch Uncle, and I guess it sort of jarred him. He'll sit up and take notice now, and it will be for the good of the team."

"But where does Joe come in?" asked Peaches.

"Well, I figure it out this way," replied Teeter. "Brown and Akers will try to make good but they can't. The fellows will see that we've got to have a new pitcher, and Hiram will have to give 'em one. Then Joe will step in."

"There are others as good as I in the school," remarked Joe modestly.

"Well, they haven't shown themselves if there are," was Teeter's retort.

"No, Joe will be pitching before the season is over, you see if he isn't."

The question was discussed pro and con, as they went to their rooms, and continued after they got there until a monitor warned them that though permission had been given to hold a meeting it did not extend to midnight lunch.

It was one night, after a hard day on the diamond, that Joe and Tom, who were studying, or making a pretense at it, heard the usual knock on their door.

"Teeter and Peaches--I wonder what's up now?" asked Tom.

"Let 'em in and they'll tell us," suggested Joe, as his roommate went to the door. It was kept locked, for often some of the fun-loving students would come in unannounced to create a "rough-house," to the misery of the two chums.

As the portal swung back, there was revealed to Joe and Tom several sheet-clad white figures, each one with a mask of black cloth over his head. The sight was rather a weird one, and for the moment Tom was nonplussed.

"Shut the door," commanded Joe quickly. "They're up to some high jinks!"

Tom hesitated for a moment. If it was Peaches, Teeter and their friends, he did not want to shut them out, but, on the contrary might want to join the fun. If, on the contrary, it was a hostile crowd there was no use getting into trouble. So Tom hesitated and was lost.

For a moment later, the throng of white-clad and unrecognizable figures (because of the masks) stepped into the room.

"We have come," announced one in a voice that sounded hollow and deep, "to initiate you into the Mystic and Sacred Order of the Choo-Choo!"

"Get out, Peaches, I know your voice," said Joe, not quite sure whether he did or not.

"Prepare to join the Mystic and Sacred Order of the Choo-Choo! Shall he not, comrades?" demanded a second figure.

"Toot! Toot! He shall!" was the answer in a chorus.

"That's Teeter all right," affirmed Tom.

"Come!" commanded the first figure, advancing to take hold of Tom's arm.

"Shall we go, Joe?" asked his chum.

Joe thought a minute. There had been rumors in the school of late, that several initiations had been held into a newly-formed society. Reports differed as to what society it was, some lads stating that they had been made to join one and some another. But all agreed, though they did not go into particulars, that the initiations were anything but pleasant.

Joe was as fond of fun as anyone but he did not like being mistreated--especially when it was not by his friends.

"Don't go!" he called suddenly to Tom.

"Then we'll make you!" said the disguised voice. "Grab 'em fellows!"

Instantly there was a commotion in the room. Joe leaped back to get behind a sofa, but one of the black-masked figures was too quick for him and seized him around the neck. Our hero tried to tear the mask from the face to see who his a.s.sailant was, but other hands clasped his arms from behind and he was helpless.

Tom, too, was having his own troubles. He was beset by two of the unknowns and held in such a way that he could do nothing. The struggle though sharp was a quiet one, for the students did not want to attract the attention of a monitor or prowling professor.

"'Tis well," spoke the lad who was evidently the leader, when Tom and Joe were held safely, their hands having been tied behind their backs.

"Away with them to the dungeon deep, and they will soon be good, faithful and true members of the Mystic and Sacred Order of the Choo-Choo!"

Then, realizing that discretion was probably now the better part of valor, Joe and Tom meekly followed their captors.

CHAPTER XVIII

"FIRE!"

"Where are you fellows taking us?" demanded Joe, as they walked softly down the corridor.

"Toot-Toot!" was all the answer he received.

"Say, we don't mind having fun," added Tom, "but if you fellows are going to cut up any, we want to know it."

"Toot-Toot!" came again in imitation of a whistle. It was evident that this was a sort of signal or watchword among the members of the Order of Choo-Choo.

"These aren't Peaches, Teeter, and our fellows," spoke Joe into Tom's ear as they were forced to descend a back and seldom used staircase.

"That's right," agreed Tom. "I wonder who they are?"

"Some of the seniors, maybe," suggested the young pitcher. "I wish I knew where they are taking us."

"The candidates who are about to be initiated into the Mystic and Sacred Order of the Choo-Choo will kindly keep quiet!" came the quick command from the leader. "Silence is imperative to have the spell work."

"Oh, you dry up!" retorted Joe.

"Silence!" came the command again, emphasized this time by a dig in the ribs.

"You quit----" began our hero, but his voice ended in a grunt, for some one had hit him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He was indignant, and had half a mind to make a fight for it then and there.

But he was practically helpless, and was descending a flight of stairs which made it dangerous to chance a scuffle. He made up his mind to fight when the time came.

"If you fellows----" began Tom.

"Silence over there!" hissed one of the white-robed figures. "If they talk any more, Master of Ceremonies, gag 'em."