also, and
doffed his derby. He made a mental note that as soon as he could he
would get a cap, or soft hat, such as he saw other students wearing.

"The brute has some manners," commented one of the trio.

"I'll teach him some more before I get through with him!" muttered
Mortimer. He, as well as his two companions, seemed to have been dining,
"not wisely but too well."

"Anything more?" asked Andy, good-naturedly. He knew that he must put up
with insults, if need be, from Mortimer; for he realized that, in a way,
class distinction at Yale is strong in its unwritten laws, and he wanted
to do as the others did. It takes much nerve to vary from the customs
and traditions of any country or place, more especially a big college.
And Andy knew his turn would come.

He also knew that it was all done in good-natured fun, and really with
the best intentions. For a first-year man is very likely to become what
his name indicates--fresh--and there is need of toning down.

Besides, it is discipline that is good for the soul, and somewhat
necessary. It makes for good in after life, in most cases, though of
course there are some exceptions. Hazing, after all, is designed,
primarily, to bring out a candidate's character. A lad who will give way
to his temper if made to take off his hat to one perhaps below him in
social station, or if he sulks when tossed in a blanket--such a lad, in
after life, is very apt to do the same thing when he has to knuckle
under to a business rival, or to go into a passion when he receives the
hard knocks of life. So, then, hazing, if not carried to extremes, has
its uses in adversity, and Andy had sense enough to realize this. So he
was ready for what might come.

He knew, also, that Mortimer might, and probably would, be actuated by a
mean spirit, and a desire for what he might think was revenge. But he
was only one of a large number of college youths. Andy was willing to
take his chances.

Andy looked over toward Wright Hall, with its raised courtyard. Lights
were gleaming in the windows, and he fancied he could see his own room
aglow.

"I hope Dunk is there," he thought.

"Shall we put him through the paces?" asked one of Mortimer's companions
suggestively, nodding at Andy.

"Not to-night. We've got something else on," answered the society swell.
"Trot along, Blair, and don't forget what we've told you. I'll see you
again," he added, significantly.

The trio had come to a stop some little