Tom. "Come on, Sam, let us capture the enemy!" and he hurried after Mumps and caught him by the arm.
"Hi! who is this?" demanded the sneak, turning in fear. Then, as Tom and Sam confronted him, his face grew white.
"Come with us, Mumps, we want to treat you," answered Tom readily, into whose head another trick had entered.
"I don't want any of your treat," growled the sneak. "Let me go."
"Oh, you must come," urged Tom. "We have a fine bottle of root beer and a lot of candied fruit for you."
If there was one thing that Mumps liked it was root beer, while he knew candied fruit was very rich eating. Accordingly he hesitated.
"I'll get all I can first and tell on them afterward," he thought, and allowed Tom and Sam to conduct him into the dormitory occupied by the Metropolitan Sextet.
"Here is Mumps come to join us!" cried Tom, as he introduced the sneak into the room, and he winked at Dick. "Now, Mumps, sit down and make yourself at home, and I'll get something for you," and he motioned the sneak to a position at one end of his bed.
He hurried off, and presently came back to Mumps with a fine slice of candied orange. The sneak was greedy, and instantly transferred the entire slice to his mouth and began to chew it vigorously.
"Oh!" he cried presently, and drew down his face in disgust.
"What's the matter, Mumps?" asked Sam.
"This orange tastes like kerosene!" spluttered Mumps, and rushed to the window. As he put out his head, Tom pointed to the sneak and then to the lamp, at which he had "flavored" the candied fruit. "We'll get square — just wait," he whispered.
"You gave me that piece on purpose," howled the sneak, as soon as he had cleared his mouth. "Oh, what an awful dose! Somebody give me a drink of water."
"The water is all gone, Mumps," answered Tom. "Awfully sorry. Have a glass of root beer," and he poured out a tumblerful.
Willing to drink anything to take that taste out of his mouth, the sneak took the tumbler and gulped down about half of the root beer. The remainder was about to follow, when suddenly he stopped short.
"Oh, my!"
"Awfully good, isn't it?" put in Dick.
"Good? It tastes like salt water!" snorted Mumps. And he was not far wrong, for Tom had taken the pains to put a lot of salt into the glass before filling it up.
"Why, that is the best root beer I ever tasted," put in Larry. "It's as sweet as sugar. Let me taste your glass, Mumps."
"Do so — with pleasure," and the sneak passed it over. Larry pretended to take a gulp.
"Fine! Couldn't be better. Isn't that so, Frank?" and he passed the glass to Harrington.
"It's certainly as good as mine, and that's O. K.," answered Frank; and then George Granbury took the tumbler and declared the root beer was even better than what he had had previously.
"It's certainly your stomach, Mumps, my boy," said Tom. "You look kind of funny — just like a fellow I knew who got the smallpox."
"He does look like a fellow getting the smallpox," put in Dick. "Mumps, does your tongue feel dry-like?"
"Dry, of course it is dry — and salty," growled Mumps, but he began to grow uneasy.
"Let me see your tongue," put in Sam, who happened to have a blue pencil in his pocket. As he spoke he broke off some of the blue point and crumbled it in his fingers.
"My tongue is all right," answered Mumps. Nevertheless, he held it out; and Sam slyly dropped the bluing on it.
"It's as blue as indigo!" he exclaimed. "Look into the glass for yourself."
Somewhat against his will, Mumps strode over to the looking glass. As he noted the condition of his tongue, he grew very pale and began to tremble.
"It is blue," he whined, "and — and — I feel sick all over. Oh, say, do you think I really am getting the smallpox?"
For an instant there was a dead silence. Then the boys could hold in no longer, and a long but smothered laugh showed the sneak how completely he had been sold.
CHAPTER XXVI
A LIVELY GAME OF BASEBALL
If ever a boy was mad clear through that boy was the sneak of Putnam Hall. As the laugh ended, Mumps shook his fist at one and another of his tormentors.
"Think you are smart, don't you?" he spluttered in his rage. "I'll fix you all! I'll go and tell Captain Putnam all about this spread, and then maybe you won't catch it!"
"Mumps, keep quiet," said Dick, placing himself between the enraged one and the door. " Make too much noise, and I'll promise you the worst drubbing you ever received."
"If you peach on me I'll give you a second whipping," added Tom.
"This is a gentlemanly affair," put in Larry. "The boy who gives us away gets a thrashing from me."
"Ditto myself," said Frank; and several others said the same.
All looked so determined that Mumps fell back in alarm.
"You let me go," he whined. "I don't want to stay here any longer."
"You can't go until you promise to keep quiet," said Dick.
"And you'll promise right now," cried Tom, seizing a pitcher of ice water that had been hidden under one of the stands. Leaping on a bed he held the pitcher over Mumps' head.
"Promise, quick, or I'll let her go!" he went on.
"Oh, don't!" yelled Mumps, as a few drops of the water landed on his head and ran down his neck.
"Do you promise to keep silent?" demanded Dick.
"Yes, yes!"
"All right. Now mind, if you break that promise you are in for at least ten good whippings."
"Somebody else may give you away," said Mumps craftily.
"No one will. If Captain Putnam hears about this it will be only through you. So beware, Mumps, if you value your hide!" And then the sneak was allowed to go. Five minutes later the spread came to an end, the muss was cleared away, and every cadet sought his couch, to rest if not to sleep.
It is possible that Captain Putnam and George Strong suspected something, yet as the cadets seemed none the worse for the festivities the next day, nothing was said on the subject. "Boys will be boys," smiled the captain to his head assistant; and there the whole matter dropped.
Several days later, while some of the cadets were down at the cove clearing off a portion of the ice for skating, Mrs. Stanhope's man-of-all-work came over with a note for Dick from Dora. The Rover boys all read the note with deep interest.
"I have good news (so ran the communicatin). Mr. Crabtree has gone to Chicago, and the marriage has been postponed until next summer. You do not know how glad I am. Of course there will be trouble when Mr. Crabtree learns how he has been fooled, but mother has promised me to remain single until August or September, and I know she will keep that promise. I thank all of you very much for what you have done. Yesterday I saw Dan Baxter, who seems to be hanging around this neighborhood a good deal. He wanted to speak to me, but I did not give him the chance. I wish he would go away, for he looks to me like a very evil-minded person. It is strange, but Mr. Crabtree thinks a good deal of him, and has told my mother so. He says it is nonsense to put Mr. Baxter down as a criminal."
"Baxter stopping around here," mused Dick. "What can he be up to?"
"He had better clear out," said Sam. The matter was discussed for some time, but nothing came of it.
Skating lasted for nearly a month,