“I wonder why he didn’t tell us the truth,” Bud put in.  “Why didn’t he tell us he was being hazed by some college boys?”

“He explains that in his diary,” Hal replied.  “Now listen and I’ll read the first entry.”

Hal’s injunction being met with quiet, eager attention, he read as follows: 

“Friday, June 9, 1922.  Last night while I was walking through the grove of trees near the campus of Edwards College, I was attacked and overpowered by several sophomores, who slipped a bag over my head and carried me to a motor-boat moored a short distance away.  They tried to conceal their identity, but I recognized the voices of Jerry Kerry and Buck Hardmaster.  They kept me a helpless prisoner, with arms and legs bound and eyes bandaged, in the cabin for several hours, during which I could feel the boat constantly on the move.  About 3 o’clock in the morning I was carried ashore on this island.  My hands were untied, and then I could hear my captors hurrying away.  I removed the bandage from my eyes and with my pocket-knife cut the rope around my ankles.  It was too dark yet to see anything distinctly, so I had to wait for break of day before doing anything.  An hour later I discovered near the landing place a considerable layout of supplies and equipment most of which I recognized as my own property.  Then I recalled that one of my captors had thrust something into one of my pockets just before they took me ashore and I put my hand into that pocket and drew out an envelope that I knew I had not put there.  In the envelope I found a typewritten note, which read as follows: 

“’Alvin Baker, you have succeeded during all of your freshman year to date in frustrating every attempt to haze you and have boasted that there was no “gang” of boys at Edwards smart enough to do the trick.  We are now performing the trick in a manner that ought to convince you that such a boast is the freshest of freshman folly.  We raided your room and took therefrom your radio sending and receiving outfit, and have added thereto necessary equipment for erecting an aerial.  This we leave with you in order that you may summon help through the atmosphere.  Meanwhile, you may comfort yourself with the distinction of being the first college freshman ever given a radio hazing.  Now, put up your aerial and send out a message for help.  Radio is your only hope.  Nobody ever stops at this island and it is impossible for passing vessels to see any signal of distress you may devise.  If you are too proud to admit defeat and refuse to send out a broadcast for help, you must remain here two weeks, at the end of which time you will be captured again after dark, bound and blindfolded, and taken back to the mainland and released.  The identity of the persons responsible for your defeat you will never be able to discover.  Enough canned food has been left with you to keep body and soul together a week.  At the end of that time, if you have failed to effect your own rescue by radio, more canned food will be left here for you.  We are leaving also a tent, a few camp utensils, matches, and fishing tackle.  You must drink river water.  Now prove yourself as big as your boast.’