Ben did not answer, but stepped to the tracks with another evil backward look at Tess and her squatter friend.
* * * * * Forty or fifty sophomores loafed about the opera-house watching the caterers buzz to and fro. Tables had been spread inside for several hundred guests, and the president's chair was decorated with roses and winter ferns. Three little freshmen and Dan Jordan, surrounded by many juniors went calmly in to inspect things.
Several underclassmen stood disconsolately inside.
"Be on your guard," whispered Dan, passing them.
The fifty sophomores outside were waiting for something to happen. Graves would be produced--how, they could not tell. The strangeness of the actions of Frederick's fraternity brothers made the affair more unsolvable. Threatening looks were showered upon them as freshman after freshman, guarded by juniors, filed in. Dan Jordan slouched to the door of the opera-house, his eyes falling mechanically upon Tessibel Skinner across the street. He heard her arguing with the man from the café about her fish. Tessibel then crossed to the opera-house.
"Does ye want any fish?" she smiled, showing her white teeth.
"No," replied Jordan. "What have you?... Eels?"
"No, nothin' but bullheads and suckers."
Dan looked about, grinning upon the sophomores.
"There's enough of them here already.... I want some eels--"
The sophomores pretended not to hear. They were not interested in fishermen, but kept their eyes open for a carriage that would dash in from the main street with the rescued president within it.
"Sling them eels over here," commanded Tessibel, beckoning to the slouching squatter across the way. The man with the basket offered the contents to Dan.
"I'll take what you have, too, girl," said Jordan in a loud voice, "how much do they weigh?"
"Don't know," replied Tess.
"Take them in and get them weighed," said Swipes, innocently coming to Dan's side.
"Hey there, you old guy," chuckled Spuddy; "drag your fish into the opera-house and dump them out.... We're going to have some fun.... If we can't have our president, eels will have to do."
The squatter disappeared inside the building.
"A pile of fun they'll have without their president," grunted a sophomore.
Tessibel gathered her empty basket upon her arm and amid the smiling looks of the students who stood watching her she walked away with her head high in the air.
But Dan Jordan, with a mighty yell, triumphantly taken up by his classmen, grasped the hat from the squatter's head. The smiling, open face of Frederick Graves was before them. The sophomores never quite puzzled out how the freshman president was in his chair at the banquet, and directly in front of him in the place of honor was a huge dish of eels.