Phil and Tom soon found themselves in the midst of a number of choice spirits, who moved silently about the lower end of the corridor, near a room that was sometimes used for student meetings, and where, more than once, it was whispered, smokers had been held, in violation of the rules. The reason for the selection of this apartment was that it had an open fireplace, which carried off the fumes of the tobacco.
"Did he get the tip?" asked Jerry, as he and his brother, together with Phil and Tom, came up.
"He sure did," answered Bricktop. "Reports from the front are that he is on the warpath."
"Is everything working all right?" asked Joe.
Tom and Phil sniffed the air. There was an unmistakable odor of tobacco.
"But if there's a smoker going on in there, why was Pitchfork tipped off?" inquired Tom.
"Wait an' ye'll see, me lad," advised Bricktop in his rich brogue. "I think he's coming now. Pump her up, Kindlings!"
Then, for the first time Tom and his chum noticed that Dan Woodhouse had a small air pump, which he was vigorously working, as he stood in a dark corner.
Footsteps sounded down the corridor. There were hasty cautions from the ringleaders, and the lads hid themselves in the dim shadows of the big hall. The footsteps came nearer, and then they seemed to cease. But the reason was soon apparent, for Professor Emerson Tines was now tip-toeing his way toward the door of the suspected room. By the dim light of a half-turned down gas jet he could be seen sneaking up. The only sound from the students was the faint sound of the air pump. Tom and Phil could not imagine what it was for.
Professor Tines reached the portal. Then he gave a sudden knock, and called:
"I demand to be admitted at once, young gentlemen! I know the nefarious practice that is going on in there, and it must stop at once! Open the door or I shall summon the janitor and have it forced! Open at once!"
The professor tried the knob. To his surprise it at once opened the door, and he almost stumbled into the apartment. He uttered an exclamation of delight, probably in the belief that he had caught the students red-handed, but the next moment he gave a gasp of dismay.
For, as Tom, Phil, and all the others could see from their vantage points in the shadowy recesses, the room was empty. It was lighted, however, and in plain view on a table in the middle of the floor was a large flask. In the top of this there was a receptacle which contained a pile of burning tobacco, and it was glowing as though some giant was puffing on the improvised pipe. From a glass tube extending from the flask there poured out volumes of the pungent odor, and, as the puffs came, Tom and Phil could hear the air pump being worked. It was a "studentless smoker," the air pump, attached to a rubber hose which exhausted the air from the flask, producing exactly the effect of some one puffing a pipe. The room was blue with the haze of tobacco, and as the astonished professor stood and gazed at the strange sight more smoke arose from the flask. Then, from somewhere in the dark recesses of the corridor came a voice.