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Page 6
Peter John, however, was still fleeing and his long strides and his
wildly flapping carpet-bag could be distinctly seen as the frightened
freshman sped up the track. The body of students, however, had now
turned into the street that led back to the college grounds, and
apparently Peter John's wild flight was already forgotten.
"We must go after him," said Foster thoughtfully.
"Oh, leave him alone," replied Will. "He'll come back all right."
"You go up to the room and I'll go and look him up."
"Not much! If you go, then I go too! I may be the next victim and I
don't intend to be offered up alone. Come on, or he'll be clear back in
Sterling before we find him."
Will laughed as he spoke, and at once the two boys started up the track
in the direction in which their classmate had fled. He could not be seen
now for a bend in the road had concealed him from sight, and for a time
his two friends did not dare to run, being fearful that they too might
attract an undue amount of attention and bring upon themselves the many
ills from which they were striving to save their friend.
Apparently their departure from the station had not drawn the attention
of any one, and, as they became convinced that they were not being
followed, their own speed increased until they too had passed the bend
in the road, when they began to run swiftly. Nothing could be seen of
Peter John, and when they had gone a considerable distance Will Phelps
stopped and whistled.
At first there was no response, but when the signal had been thrice
repeated both boys heard the voice of their friend apparently coming
from behind the bushes growing on the bank directly beside them.
"All alone, Will?" called Peter John timidly.
"Yes. Yes. Where are you, Peter John?" responded Will, peering about
him, but as yet unable to determine where his friend was hiding.
"Here I am."
"Where's that?"
"Right here."
"Come out here where we are. Stand up like a little man and be counted."
"Sure nobody's with you?"
"Foster's here, that's all."
Slowly Peter John arose from his hiding-place and peered anxiously about
him. "It's all right. Come on!" called Will encouragingly. Thus bidden,
Peter John stepped forth, still holding tightly in his grasp his
precious carpet-bag. Will Phelps did not even laugh nor did he have any
inclination to do so as he perceived how genuine was the suffering of
the terrified boy.
"You needn't be afraid now, Peter John," he said soothingly. "You're all
right."
"That was a close call."
"Call for what?" demanded Foster sharply. Will turned and looked in
surprise at his room-mate, for the tone of his voice was very unlike
that which he had used when he had insisted that they should go to the
aid of their classmate.
"I tell you they were after me!" said Peter John, wiping his brow with a
huge handkerchief as he spoke.
"Who were after you?" demanded Foster still more sharply.
"The sophomores."
"Don't you believe it!"
"Why, they'd have got me if I hadn't put in my prettiest."
"Nobody would have paid any attention to you if you hadn't run. You drew
it all on yourself and have no one else to blame."
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