"I guess it's safe to run the guard to-night," remarked Bruce, as he and Tom crossed the campus on their way to the trolley line running into Elmwood.

"Oh, sure," a.s.sented our hero. "But what's in the wind?"

"I'm going to prove to you that it would be bad policy to make a cla.s.s matter of sending Sam to Coventry, or of trying to run him out of the school. And to do that I invite you to have a little lunch with me in town."

"All right," a.s.sented Tom, wondering what his friend had in store for him.

A little later they were seated in a private room in one of the Elmwood restaurants much patronized by the students. Bruce ordered a tasty little lunch, and they were in the midst of eating it when there came the sound of several lads entering the next room. There was talk and laughter, somewhat boisterous, and then a voice exclaimed:

"Sit down, fellows, and make yourselves at home. This is on me and Nick. We'll have a jolly time, and I'll run you back in my car!"

Tom started. "Sam h.e.l.ler!" he exclaimed, half rising in his seat.

"Keep quiet," advised Bruce. "Of course it's Sam. This is part of my experiment. Now you listen."

There was some more talk and laughter, and then a waiter came to take the orders. Sam called for a rather elaborate lunch, and while it was being gotten ready a voice, which Tom recognized as that of a Soph.o.m.ore with whom he was slightly acquainted, asked:

"You had great sport this summer, didn't you, Sam?"

"I should say we did! Nick and I helped find a treasure in an old mill."

"Whew!" gasped Tom. "So he found it, did he?"

"Keep quiet," whispered Bruce. "Listen!"

"And what's this I hear about playing a joke on Tom Fairfield, and some of his friends?" asked another voice.

"A joke!" gasped Tom.

"Quiet!" warned his friend.

"Ha! Ha!" laughed Sam. "Yes, it was a _joke_ all right. You know those fellows happened to go camping near where Nick and I were. We met old Skeel--you know, the prof. who used to be here. Well, he had some scheme of finding a hermit's money hidden in the old mill, and we went in with him. Then we found that Tom and his crowd were on the same trail.

"Nick and I decided to have some fun with 'em. So one day we sneaked into their camp, when Tom was out, and just took Bert, Jack and a fellow named d.i.c.k something-or-other prisoners. Say! but they did kick and struggle, but we managed 'em.

"We carted 'em off to the old mill, and there we put 'em in a secret room. It was jolly fun, until Tom came, made quite a row, and got 'em out. But it was all a joke."

"By Jove! and a good one, too!" cried several laughing voices.

"Did you get the treasure?" someone wanted to know.

"Yes, it was there all right. The old hermit got it. I don't know just how that was, for Nick and I left. But I think Tom and the old chap had a row, and part of a wall fell down, showing a secret room.

Oh, but you should hear how indignant Jack and Bert got when they found we were standing guard over them! It was as good as a hazing."

"It must have been!" agreed his friends, laughing heartily.

"Aren't they sore on you?" someone asked.

"Oh, well, maybe a bit," admitted Sam, with a show of frankness. "But if a fellow can't take a joke what good is he?"

"That's right!" came in a chorus. "If they make any trouble for you, Sam, let us know."

"I will, but I don't think they will. Ah! here comes the eats! Pitch in, fellows!"

"You're the stuff, Sam!" came from several. "And that sure was a joke on Tom Fairfield and his crowd," added a voice. "A corking good joke!"

There was more laughter and talk, and in the next room to the jolly party sat Tom, looking at his friend Bruce in wonder.

CHAPTER V

TOM DECIDES

"Well?" asked Bruce questioningly, after a pause. "What do you think of my experiment, Tom?"

"Is this it?"

"It is. Are you ready now to go on with your plan of reading Sam out of the cla.s.s, so to speak?"

Tom did not answer for a moment.

"Take time to think it over," advised his friend. "You have heard Sam's version of the affair. And it's reasonable to suppose that many will believe him--as many perhaps as would believe you and your chums."

"But he treated Jack and Bert miserably," declared Tom, "he and Nick."

"Of course he did," admitted Bruce. "He isn't denying that. But he makes a joke of it, and it will be hard to convince the Soph.o.m.ore cla.s.s that it wasn't done in fun. That's what you're up against, Tom. I rather suspected it would be that way from the first, and that's why I wanted you to hear for yourself just how Sam would tell his side of the story. He makes himself out in rather a better light than you and the others shine in, Tom. And you've got to consider that. I was waiting for a chance to let you hear him talk to some of his friends, but I didn't think I'd have the opportunity so soon. Now, what are you going to do about it?"

Again Tom was silent, while from the next room there came the sound of jolly laughter, mingling with the clatter of the dishes and cutlery.

"Here's to Sam h.e.l.ler!" cried someone, toasting the bully.

"And Nick Johnson!" added another.

"The fellows who know how to play jokes!" put in a third voice, and the toast was drunk amid laughter.

"You see how it is," went on Bruce. "There are a lot of Soph.o.m.ores in with him--probably some of your own intimate acquaintances, if not friends. They'll side with Sam, after this, no matter how much of a case you make out against him."

"I suppose so," admitted Tom ruefully. "Well, I guess I'll have to let things go by default. There's no use splitting the cla.s.s in twain."

"That's the way I look at it," said Bruce eagerly, "I'm glad you see it in that light, Tom. Save the cla.s.s. But if you feel that you are ent.i.tled to revenge------"

"I sure do!" interrupted Tom.

"Then take it privately--some other time," went on Bruce. "Football is coming on now, and you may play on the team--so may Sam. It wouldn't do to have bad feeling------"

"I understand," said Tom. "I'll let the thing slide for the time being."