# The Winning Touchdown/Chapter 29
#### CHAPTER XXIX
##### ONE POINT LOST

For a moment there was silence—portentous, momentous silence, while "Pitchfork" gazed at the astonished lads, and as they returned his stare.
"Well," remarked the Latin professor, as he advanced farther into the room, and looked about at the confusion on every side, "I see that Mr. Zane is not here."
"N—no—no, sir," answered Dutch, for Mr. Tines was looking directly at him, and seemed to expect him to reply. "He—he has gone out."
"Which is evidently the reason you are here, committing these acts of vandalism!" said the professor, bitterly. "I am ashamed of you! To think that Dr. Churchill, myself and the other teachers could not go away for two days without you students behaving yourselves like this, it is disgraceful, shameful!"
He spoke as though the whole responsibility of the college rested upon himself and the venerable president, whereas it was common knowledge that the plan was being considered of dropping Mr. ​Tines and getting a more popular professor, as well as a proctor who was more in sympathy with the boys.
"We—we only wanted to have some—some fun," went on Dutch, who, having acted as leader in the prank, thought it was his duty to defend his friends.
"Fun!" burst out Mr. Tines. "Do you call this disgraceful vandalism fun?"
"We we meant it as such," went on Dutch.
Professor Tines only sniffed. Probably he did not know what else to do.
"You young gentlemen—I had almost said ruffians," he finally remarked, "you will remain here until I return. Perhaps you may be able to tell me where Mr. Zane is."
"I—I think he is in the freshmen dormitory," replied Holly Cross, who had been puzzling his brain trying to think of a reason for the unexpected return of Mr. Tines.
"Ah, thank you. I will find him, and return here. You will kindly remain. I wish him to see his room—as it is."
Professor Tines turned about stiffly, and left. The four lads gathered together in the centre of the apartment, a miserable and forlorn quartette.
"Who'd have thought he'd show up?" demanded Dutch, as if it was against the rules for such a thing to be done.
​"I didn't," declared Jerry.
"Me either," echoed his twin brother.
"Well, he caught us with the goods, all right," said Holly.
"I—I wonder what he'll do—he and Zany?" ventured Dutch. "Shall we stay?"
"Got to," was Holly's opinion, and indeed the request of the professor was equivalent to a command—under the circumstances.
They waited there in misery until the Latin instructor and Mr. Zane came. The gasp of astonishment and dismay that the proctor gave as he saw his room was evidence enough of the manner in which he viewed it.
"This is what I found them at when I returned—most unexpectedly," said Mr. Tines, with a wave of his hand toward the shrinking youths. "If I were in your place, Mr. Zane, I would make them restore everything to rights, and then inflict such punishment as would cover the case. Disbarment from athletics would be none too severe, as I see that all these are members of the football team."
There was a gasp of dismay from the four, they had not bargained for that.
"I came back unexpectedly," went on the professor. "Dr. Churchill had forgotten some papers to be used in the lawsuit, and I volunteered to return for them. Getting here unexpectedly, I ​looked for you, Mr. Zane. I knocked at youi door. I was bidden to enter. This—this—" and the professor made a dramatic gesture, "this is what I beheld," and he waved his two hands hopelessly at the confusion.
As yet the proctor had said nothing. He looked at his dismantled room as though he could not comprehend it. Never—never had he beheld it in this way before, not even when he moved from one apartment to another, nor when a section of the building in which he had his study was rebuilt.
"I was in the freshman dormitory—there was a little—ahem—a little difficulty there," and the proctor hesitated. "I had no idea——"
"If I were you I would make them put everything exactly as they found it," interrupted Mr. Tines, severely.
"I—er—I—that is—I think I would prefer to straighten matters out myself," said Mr. Zane hesitatingly. It was as though he was in a daze. "You—you young gentlemen may go to your rooms," he added, softly.
"What!" cried Professor Emerson Tines. "Aren't you going to——"
Then he realized that he was infringing on the prerogatives of the proctor, and he kept still.
"You may go," said Mr. Zane, softly, and Dutch and his mates went.
​It was not long before the news buzzed in every dormitory of the college.
"Served Dutch right," declared Tom. "He ought to have known better."
"Yes, but if Zane and Pitchfork take him and Holly and the twins off the team," suggested Phil, "then we will be in the soup, for further orders."
It was a direful thought, and no one liked to dwell on it. There was a lot of talk, and much speculation as to how "Pitchfork" had managed to get back unobserved. There were also guesses as to what would be done with the culprits.
Then something new developed. It concerned the excitement in the freshman ranks. There had been considerable horseplay, it was said, and Mr. Zane had indignantly ordered it stopped. To his surprise, the students not only obeyed him, but his pardon was formally asked in the name of the class, and he was given a ringing round of cheers.
"Oh, that's the noise we heard," commented Tom. "I thought they were raising the roof."
Whether it was the unexpected compliment paid to him, or a feeling of commisseration for the four culprits was not made known, but, at any rate, Proctor Zane inflicted absolutely no punishment on Dutch and his mates. He did not even refer to the subject again, though Professor Tines was seen in excited conversation with him. Perhaps the trouble in which Randall was involved, ​and a feeling that he was not as well liked as he might be, influenced Mr. Zane.
So Dutch and his three chums breathed easier, and the football team blessed its lucky stars that it was to lose no more men.
Professor Tines went back to court early the next morning, taking with him the documents forgotten by the president. He gave out no news of the court proceedings, which indeed had not been opened as yet.
But word of them was received on the second day of the absence of the faculty. It was when the Randall 'varsity was returning from the game with the preparatory school, having won by an unexpectedly big margin. The players were feeling jubilant, and were telling each other what they would do to Boxer Hall.
"Hello, there's prexy!" exclaimed Tom, as he saw the venerable president strolling over the campus toward his residence.
"Let's ask him what happened in court," suggested Phil. "He won't mind, for he knows we're anxious."
The little squad of players surged up around Dr. Churchill.
"Can you tell us—that is—is Randall safe?" stammered Phil, as he looked up into the President's face, his mates anxiously surrounding him.
​"I regret to say that we have been defeated in the first—ah—scrimmage, I believe you football players call it," said the doctor, a bit sadly. "We have lost the first point in the main legal battle."