Edward Stratemeyer - The Rover Boys Down East - or, The Struggle for the Stanhope Fortune

All of the students on the campus stared at the bombs in wonder, while others came rushing from various buildings, to learn the meaning of the reports.

“Who shot off the cannon?” stormed Professor Sharp. “It’s against the rules to shoot off that cannon without permission.”

“It wasn’t the cannon, Professor,” explained Frank Holden. “It was a bomb. Somebody – ”

Boom! went another bomb, and it was right over the professor’s head. The professor was scared and ducked wildly.

“I want the person who is doing that – ” he commenced, but got no further, for just then a big rocket went hissing through the air, to burst a second later and let fall a beautiful shower of golden rain.

“Oh, isn’t that grand!”

“Say, this is something like!”

“Must be that Doctor Wallington meant to surprise us.”

Far into the sky flew two more rockets, one letting fall some chains of red, white and blue and the other some strange fish-like shapes that darted hither and thither.

“This is certainly all to the merry!” murmured Stanley. “It’s as good as a Fourth of July exhibition.”

“Look at the Roman candles!” cried Max, pointing over to the woods. From among the trees three large Roman candles were sending their balls of various colors high into the air.

“This is a surprise and no mistake,” murmured Doctor Wallington, as he gazed at the fireworks.

“Didn’t you know about them, Doctor?” questioned Allen Charter.

“No. It must be the work of some students.”

“I’m going to see who is doing it!” cried Stanley, and ran for the woods, followed by a score of others.

When the crowd arrived they found Dick, Tom and Sam in the act of setting off more rockets and Roman candles.

“Say, you sure surprised us!” cried Stanley.

“It’s out of sight!” murmured Spud.

“Huh! I am sorry,” murmured Tom. “I thought it was very much in sight.”

“Oh, you know what I mean, Tom. It’s bang-up.”

“It sure is that!” cried Sam, as one of the rockets exploded with a loud report.

“Here are some packages of red lights,” said Tom. “I want every fellow here to take one and light it. Then we’ll form a procession and march around the buildings.”

“That’s the talk!” cried Stanley. “Say, if we only had a band!”

“I’ll go and git my drum,” cried Max, who chanced to own one.

“And I’ll get my bugle,” added a student who possessed such an instrument.

By the time the drum and bugle were brought the red lights were lit, and amid a general cheering the students got into line and the march around the college buildings began.

“Come on in, Dudd!” cried Dick, to Flockley, who stood looking on, and he passed over a red light which the student took rather unwillingly. “Everybody in this march!”

Around and around the buildings marched the students. William Philander Tubbs wanted to keep out of the procession, but he was caught by Sam and Tom and made to carry a flag consisting of an old red sweater tied to the handle of a broom. Other boys carried the college colors, and they added to the din with tin horns and wooden rattles.

“My! but this is disgraceful!” muttered Professor Sharp, in disgust.

“Disgraceful?” cried Doctor Wallington. “Not at all, sir. Let the young men enjoy themselves. They are doing no harm.”

“I don’t like so much noise,” snapped Asa Sharp, and retired to the college building.

“I’ve got about a dozen packs of firecrackers,” said Tom, a little later. “We mustn’t forget to shoot them off.”

“Pass ’em around, Tom!” cried Stanley, and the firecrackers were quickly distributed.

“Come on and give old Filbury a scare,” suggested Spud, and before anybody could stop him he went off after the old man who worked around the dormitories. He found Filbury on a step-ladder, fixing a lamp, and he very quietly pinned his firecrackers to the old man’s coat tail.

“What do you want, sir?” asked the old man, as he started to come down the step-ladder.

“I wanted to ask you if you knew where my baseball was,” asked Spud, innocently.

“No, I don’t know nuthing about baseballs,” growled Filbury. He sniffed the air. “Say, smells like something burning around here!” he cried. “Did any of them fireworks set fire to the buildings?”

“I guess not,” answered Spud. “But about that ball – ”

Crack! bang! crack! went a number of the firecrackers and poor Filbury leaped several feet into the air. Then he turned hastily around.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, and then a long string of the firecrackers went off, causing him to whirl first to one side and then another. He put his hands behind him. “Ouch! I’m burnt!” he screamed.

“Whoopla! that’s the way to celebrate!” roared Spud. “Nothing like having fun while you are at it!”

“I’ll ‘fun’ you!” yelled Filbury, in anger, and of a sudden he drew off his coat and commenced to chase Spud. Down the corridor went the pair. And then Filbury cast the coat with the firecrackers still exploding, at Spud’s head.

Spud ducked and the coat sailed over his head, to enter a doorway that was partly open. Then another person appeared. It was Professor Asa Sharp. He stepped on the coat and as he did so several of the firecrackers went off, one hitting him directly in the chin.

“Oh!” he screamed. “I am hit! Take those fireworks away!” And he bolted down the hallway with all the speed he could command. He ran out on a porch and then down on the campus, where Tom and Sam were bending over something on the ground.

“Look out! Run!” yelled Tom, and then he and his brother leaped back. In bewilderment Professor Asa Sharp stood still. Then a terrific explosion rent the air, and a great shower of sparks flew in all directions.

“Say, that was an explosion!”

“Who was that stood so close?”

“Was he hurt?”

These and a number of other cries and questions came from the students of Brill who had witnessed the setting off, by Tom and Sam, of the last of the fireworks.

As for the two Rover boys, they knew not what to say. Both stared helplessly for a moment at Professor Sharp.

“Hi! hi!” spluttered that individual. “Stop it! Do you want to blow me to pieces? Oh, I’m all on fire!” And, seeing that his coat had ignited from some of the sparks, he commenced to dance around in terror.

“Here – wait, Professor!” called out Tom. “Let me knock out that fire!” And he began to beat out the flames with his hands.

“Don’t – don’t hit me so hard, Rover!” snarled the professor, for in his excitement Tom was pounding away harder than intended. Sam also came forward to put out the sparks, and so did Dick and some others.

“Here, give me that broom, Tubbs!” cried the eldest Rover, and catching the article, Dick whipped off the red sweater and then used the broom to sweep from Asa Sharp what was left of the fire.

In a few seconds more the danger was over. In the meanwhile a big crowd commenced to collect around the instructor and those who had set off the fireworks.

“This is an outrage!” fumed Professor Sharp. “An outrage! I’ll have the law on you for it!” And he glared savagely at Tom and Sam.

“I don’t see how you can blame us, sir,” answered Tom, stoutly. “We were just setting off the fireworks when you ran right into the midst of them.”

“Nonsense! nonsense! You did it on purpose!”

“You certainly ran right into the things, just as we had lit them,” said Sam. “I don’t see how you can blame us for that.”

“You’ll see! I shall report to Doctor Wallington at once!” stormed Asa Sharp, and hurried off with his face drawn down in sour determination.