As soon as a
shirt-tag was cut off, the amputator, flourishing it on the blade of his
knife, like an Indian flaunting a scalp-lock, made a dash for the elm,
where it was pinned up as a trophy.
Then it was found that a "taste" for shirt-tags had been created by this
exciting bit of experience, and other men, who had been loudly laughing
and cheering over the discomfiture of Chickering and his inane friends,
found themselves suddenly on the ground, with wicked-looking knives
flashing before their eyes, and their shirts being mutilated by the
pressure of keen knife-blades.
In the midst of this "fun," Buck Badger arrived on the campus from his
stolen interview with Winnie Lee. Though his face wore a perplexed
expression, it had lost its gloom. There might be trouble for him in the
future, but Winnie's words had for the present driven the blackest of
the shadows out of his heart. The desire uppermost in his mind just then
was to meet and whip Donald Pike. He had sworn to himself that he would
do that the first thing, and he meant to keep the oath.
Nevertheless, reaching the elms of the campus at this exciting moment,
he was willing to cease temporarily his search for Pike and view the
fruit-gathering. It would be rare sport, provided, of course, that his
own shirt was not forced to yield "fruit.
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