Will with a catch in his voice. “How good that word sounds! I – I haven’t had a home in so long that – that I don’t know what it seems like.”
“Well, we’re going to make you right at home here,” went on Jack. “I’m expecting a bundle of good things from my aunt, and when it comes, why, you and me and Nat and Sam and Bony and Fred and Bob, and some other choice spirits, are going to gather in my room to-night, and we’re going to have the finest spread you ever saw. I’ll make you acquainted with the boys, and then we’ll see what happens. No spending money? As if we cared for that! Now, come on, old chap, we’ll leg it to the village, for it’s cold standing here,” and clapping Will on the back, Jack linked his arm in that of the new boy and led him back to the road.
CHAPTER VIII
THE MIDNIGHT FEAST
“Well, fellows, are we all here?” asked Jack Ranger later that night, as he gazed around on a crowd in his room.
“If there were any more we couldn’t breathe,” replied Bony Balmore, and the cracking of his finger knuckles punctuated his remark.
“When does the fun begin?” asked Bob Movel.
“Soon,” answered Jack.
“We ought to have some music. Tune up, Fred,” said Sam.
“Not here,” interposed Jack quickly. “Wait a bit and we can make all the noise we want to.”
“How’s that?” inquired Bony. “Have you hypnotized Dr. Mead and put wax in Martin’s ears so he can’t hear us?”
“No, but it’s something just as good. This afternoon I sat and listened while Socker, the janitor, told me one of his war stories.”
“You must have had patience,” interrupted Nat Anderson. “Bob cats and bombshells, but Socker is tiresome!”
“Well, I had an object in it,” explained Jack. “I wanted him to do me a favor, and he did it – after I’d let him tell me how, single-handed, he captured a lot of Confederates. I told him about this spread to-night, and was lamenting the fact that my room was so small, and that we couldn’t make any noise, or have any lights. And you know how awkward it is to eat in the dark.”
“Sure,” admitted Bony. “You can’t always find your mouth.”
“And if there’s anything I dislike,” added Nat, “it’s putting pie in my ear.”
“Easy!” cautioned Jack at the laugh which followed. “Wait a few minutes and we can make all the noise we want to.”
“How?” asked Bony.
“Because, as I’m trying to tell you, Socker did me a favor. He’s going to let us in the storeroom, back of where the boiler is, in the basement. It’ll be nice and warm there, and we can have our midnight feast in comfort, and make all the row we like, for Martin can’t hear us there.”
“Good for you, Jack!” cried Nat.
“That’s all to the horse radish!” observed Sam.
Jack’s trip to town that afternoon had been most successful. He had found at the express office a big package from home, and from the note that accompanied it he knew it contained good things to eat, made by his loving aunts. But, desiring to give an unusually fine spread to celebrate the occasion of having made the acquaintance of Will Williams, Jack purchased some other good things at the village stores.
He and Will carried them back to school, and managed to smuggle them in. It was a new experience for Will to have a friend like Jack Ranger, and to be taking part in this daring but harmless breach of the school rules. Under this stimulus Will was fast losing his melancholy mood, and he responded brightly to Jack’s jokes.
“Now you stay in your room until I call for you,” our hero had said to Will on parting after supper that night. Jack wanted to spring a sort of surprise on his chums, and introduce Will to them at the feast. In accordance with his instructions the lads had gathered in his room about ten o’clock that night, stealing softly in after Martin, the monitor, had made his last round to see that lights were out. Then Jack had announced his plan of having the feast in the basement.
“Grab up the grub and come on,” said the leader a little later. “Softly now – no noise until we’re downstairs.”
“Will Socker keep mum?” asked Bony.
“As an oyster in a church sociable stew,” replied Jack. “I’ve promised to listen to another of his war tales.”
“Jack’s getting to be a regular martyr,” observed Sam.
“Silence in the ranks!” commanded Captain Jack.
The lads stole softly along the corridors. Just as they got opposite the door of Martin’s room, there was a dull thud.
“What’s that?” whispered Jack softly.
“I – I dropped one of the pies,” replied Bony, cracking his knuckles at the double-quick in his excitement.
“Scoop it up and come on. You’ll have to eat it,” said Jack.
In fear and trembling they went on. Fortunately, Martin did not hear the noise, and the lads got safely past.
Jack, who was in the rear, paused at a door at the end of the hall, and knocked softly.
“Yes,” answered a voice from within.
“Come on,” commanded Jack, and he was joined by a dark figure.
They reached the basement safely, no one having disputed their night march. Socker, the janitor, met them at the door of the boiler-room.
“Here we are,” said Jack.
“So I see, Mr. Ranger. Why, it reminds me of the time when Captain Crawford and me took a forced night march of ten miles to get some rations. We were with Sherman, on his trip to the sea, and – ”
“You must be sure to tell me that story,” interrupted Jack. “But not now. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, Mr. Ranger. But I depend on you not to say anything about this to Dr. Mead in case – ”
“Oh, you can depend on us,” Jack assured him.
“I thought I could. It reminds me of the time when we were before Petersburgh, and a comrade and I went to – ”
“You must not forget to tell me that story,” interrupted Jack. “I particularly want to hear it, Socker.”
“I will,” said the janitor, delighted that he had at last found an earnest listener.
“But not now,” said Jack. “We must get to work. Do you like pie, Socker?”
“Do I, Mr. Ranger? Well, I guess I do. I remember once when we were at Gettysburg – ”
“Bony, where’s that extra choice pie you had?” asked Jack with a wink at his chum. “Give it to Mr. Socker here,” and Bony passed over the bit of pastry that had met with the accident in the hall.
“That
