Sam's Chance, and How He Improved ItAlger, Horatio, Jr.
History
Sam's Chance, and How He Improved It
Alger, Horatio, Jr.
Conduct of life -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction
"That formality is not necessary," said Jones, after a pause, "unless
you desire to leave any money to the society."
"I guess I'll join first, and see how I like it," said Sam.
"Quite reasonable," said Brown, in a tone of satisfaction.
"We'd better not lose any time," said Robinson.
"Follow us, Mr. Barker," said Brown.
"All right, gentlemen."
Robinson offered his arm, and the four proceeded to one of the older
college halls, and ascended to a room on the third floor.
"Ain't they sold, though!" thought Sam, with an inward chuckle. "They
think I'm a student, and I'll find out all about their society--I
can't think of the outlandish name."
The door was locked, and then Brown said: "Mr. Barker, you will not
object to be blindfolded, of course."
"Go ahead," said Sam. "If that's the regular thing, I'm agreeable."
He was blindfolded by Brown and seated in the center of the room. He
heard various movements, lasting for perhaps five minutes. Then the
bandage was removed, and Sam saw that his three companions were
metamorphosed. All wore masks. The light of day had been shut out, and
four candles were burning on the table. In the center was a skull, and
beside it was a large book, a photograph book, by the way.
"Barker," said one of the masked figures in a sepulchral voice, "do
you desire to join our mystic band?"
"You bet!" answered Sam.
"No levity," was the stern reply. "Before you are admitted you must
swear solemnly not to divulge the secrets of the association."
"I won't," said Sam.
"'Tis not enough. You must swear!"
"All right, I swear."
"Kiss this book, and swear with uplifted hand."
Sam did so.
"Do you know what will be the penalty if you violate the oath?"
"I'll be 'bounced,' I expect."
"Worse than that. Do you see this skull?"
"Yes, I do."
"It is the skull of a freshman who joined our society five years
since, and divulged the secrets."
"What did he die of?" asked Sam.
"He disappeared," said Brown, impressively. "He was found dead in his
bed one morning, with a dagger in his heart."
"You don't say so!" said Sam, impressed in spite of himself.
"It was a fitting punishment. Don't incur it."
"I won't," said Sam. "I don't know anything to tell anyway."
"You shall know all. Our society was founded hundreds of years ago by
the emperor Charlemagne."
This didn't impress Sam as much as was expected, since he had never
heard of the Emperor Charlemagne.
"Kings, nobles, prime ministers have belonged to our mystic ranks,"
proceeded Brown.
"Then I wonder they elected me in?" thought Sam.
"That book," indicating the photograph album, "contains the records of
the society."
"May I look into it?"
"No," said Jones, hurriedly, laying his hand upon the book. "The time
may come, but not yet."
"Just as you say," said Sam, submissively. "I'm in no hurry."
"Bandage his eyes once more," said Brown.
Robinson advanced, and tied a handkerchief over our hero's eyes.
"Now stand up."
Sam stood up.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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