XXIIFUN AT THE HOTEL
It was no easy matter for Tom to get into the room Josiah Crabtree was occupying, but after trying a good number of keys, — fished up here, there, and everywhere, — one was at last found that fitted the lock.
Striking a match, Tom entered the room quickly, drew back the sheet of the bed, dumped in the crabs, and then pulled the sheet up to its original place.
"He's coming!" whispered Sam, who stood guard at the door. "Hide, Tom," and then he ran back to the big room adjoining.
Finding he could not escape, Tom threw the box under the bed and rushed to a closet in the corner. Here he crouched down behind a large trunk left in the place on storage. He had scarcely secreted himself when Josiah Crabtree came in. He had shoved his key in the lock, but had failed to notice that the lock-bolt was already turned back.
"Oh, what a cold night," muttered the ex-school teacher as he lit the gas. "A warm bed will feel fine."
"I reckon it will be warm enough," thought Tom.
As the room was scantily heated, Crabtree lost no time in disrobing. Having donned a long night robe, he turned off the gas, flung the sheets back, and leaped into bed.
Exactly ten seconds of silence followed. Then came a yell calculated to raise the dead.
"Whow! What's this? Oh, what's got me by the legs? Oh, oh! oh! I'm being eaten up alive! Let go there! Oh, dear!"
And with additional yells, Josiah Crabtree leaped straight out of bed, one crab hanging to his left knee, several on his feet, and one, which he had caught hold of, clinging to the back of his hand. At once he began to do an Indian war-dance around the apartment, knocking the furniture right and left.
"Let go there! What on earth can they be? Oh, my toe is half off — I know it is! Let go!" And then he struggled toward the gas jet, but before he could light it Tom had slipped out of the apartment, closing the door behind him. The banging of furniture continued, and then came a crash, as the washstand went over, carrying with it a bowl, a soap tray, and a large pitcher filled with water. The icy water gushed over Crabtree's feet, making him shiver with cold, but the crabs were undaunted and only clung the closer.
The noise soon aroused the entire hotel, and the clerk, several bell-boys, and finally the proprietor, rushed to the scene. The door was flung wide open.
"Have you been drinking, sir? How dare you disturb the hotel in this fashion?" demanded the proprietor.
"The crabs! Take them off!" yelled Crabtree, continuing to dance around.
"Crabs? What made you bring crabs up here?"
"I — I — oh, my toes! Take them off!" shrieked Josiah Crabtree, and kicked out right and left. One of the crabs was flung off, to land in the hotel proprietor's face and to catch the man by the nose.
"My nose! He will bite it off!" cried the hotel man. "Kill the thing, Gillett — smash it with a — a — anything!"
And Gillet, the clerk, tried to do so, while the hotel man and Crabtree continued to dance around in the wildest kind of fury. Safe in their own room, the boys laughed until they cried. All had gone to bed, and Tom lost no time in getting under the covers.
"Somebody has played a tr —— " began Crabtree, when an extra nip on his knee cut him short. " h, my, I shall die!" he moaned — "I know I shall die!"
By this time the proprietor of the hotel had freed himself from the crab that had nipped him on the nose. "You won't die, but you'll get out of this hotel," he snarled. "Throw the crabs out of the window," he continued to his employees, and after a good deal of trouble one crab after another was hurled forth, the window being kept open in the meantime and the icy draught causing Crabtree to shiver as with the ague. As there seemed no help for it the ex-teacher began to dress again with all possible speed.
"If I find out who did this I'll — I'll kill him," moaned Josiah Crabtree. "I've been nipped in a hundred places!"
"You'll leave this hotel!" growled the proprietor. "I've had enough of you. First the room didn't suit, then the price was too high, and at dinner and supper you found all manner of fault with the menu. You'll go, and the quicker the better."
"But look here —— " began Crabtree.
"I won't argue with you. Either get out, or I'll have you arrested as a disorderly character."
"Yes, but —— "
"Not a word. Will you go quietly, or shall I have you put out?"
"I'll — I'll go!" gasped Josiah Crabtree, and five minutes later he was on the cold street, satchel in hand, and saying all manner of unpleasant things under his breath.
"Oh, Tom!" laughed Sam, and could go no further. Each of the boys had felt like exploding a dozen times. It was not until an hour after that any of them managed to get to sleep.
When they came down in the morning the hotel clerk winked at them. "I'm not saying a word," he whispered. "But it served the old crank right. Even the boss is doing a little smiling, although he got quite a nip himself."
"Really, I don't know what you are talking about," answered Tom. Then he shut up one eye, stuck his tongue into his cheek, and strolled into the dining room. "He's an out-and-out boy, he is," murmured the clerk, gazing after him.
Breakfast was finished, and the cadets were strolling around the hotel awaiting further instructions from Captain Putnam, when a man drove up to the door in a big livery-stable sleigh.
"I am after some boys bound for Putnam Hall," he said. "Captain Putnam telegraphed to the boss to bring 'em up to the Hall in this sleigh."
"Hurrah!" shouted Sam. "Such a long ride will just suit me!"
"If it doesn't prove too cold," was Dick's comment.
There was but one seat in the turnout, the back being filled with straw and robes. "Take your lunch with you," said the driver. "For it's a long trip we have before us, and I reckon a part of the road aint none too good."
The clerk of the hotel was consulted, and soon a big lunch-box was packed, containing sandwiches, cake, and a stone jug of hot coffee. This was stowed away in the straw, and the lads piled in, laughing merrily over the prospect before them.
"Off we go!" shouted Larry, and with a crack of the whip the sleigh started. It was drawn by a heavy pair of horses, who looked well able to get through any snowdrift that might present itself.
Ithaca was soon left behind, and they sped swiftly along a road running northward, a half-mile or more from the west shore of the lake. The road was level, and somewhat worn by travel, and for the first three miles good time was made.
"If we can continue this gait we'll reach Putnam Hall by three or four o'clock this afternoon, allowing an hour's rest at noon," said the driver in reply to a question put by Frank. "But we have still a number of small hills to climb, and it's not going to stay as clear as it was early this morning."
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