e had
come, and philosophically laughed at the ruin of his last grand project,
as he had laughed at the ruin of forty other grand projects in
their day.

The panorama stopped without a signal this time. A hoarse voice
screamed, "Gorryfus! Gosh thunder! By jimminy!" The curtain was jerked
aside, and Stoop rushed into the hall like a fury. Coming out of a place
partly lighted into one totally dark, his first move was to run blindly
into Tiffles, nearly knocking that gentleman off his legs.

"Hold on, Stoop! Hold on!" shouted Tiffles, with what was left of his
breath. But the idiot only screamed, "Gosh thunder! Gorryfus!" and
darted for the main aisle, intending to run a muck among his
persecutors. There was a general scrambling of the boys to avoid this
incarnated wrath. The whole female seminary, and all the ladies present,
screamed together.

CHAPTER VII.

SCENES NOT IN THE BILLS.

The enraged idiot struck out right and left, without hurting
anybody--the objects of his vengeance contriving to elude him in the
dark. Most of the sturdy blows which he dealt, using his arms like
flails, fell upon the railings of the seats, and only bruised his hands.
Just as he had caught a boy by the collar, and was about to take a twist
in his hair, the door opened, and a light appeared. It came from three
candles borne by three men.

This apparition caused the furious idiot to suspend hostilities on the
instant.

All eyes were turned toward the three men. All voices were hushed. There
was a whisper in the air that something strange was about to happen.

The man who entered first was a stranger, who moved and looked about in
the quick, nervous way born of city life. The other two men were
well-known residents of the village. Some of the audience had had
unpleasant cause to know them.

Having locked the door, and stationed his associates in a position to
command the windows, the stranger walked quickly up the aisle, bearing
his lighted candle, and said, in a loud voice, which fell strangely on
the hushed assemblage:

"Marcus Wilkeson will be kind enough to give himself up. Upon my honor,
he cannot escape." This was said with a charming politeness.

A tall figure arose at the wall end of one of the back seats. "I am
Marcus Wilkeson. What do you want with me, sir?" His voice trembled, and
his face was livid.

"To go with me to New York, Mr. Wilkeson," said the tall stranger,
quickly. "Thank you for your promptness in ans