billiard-room.

"It's a great note," muttered Shorty Brown, "that we have to wait on
those big lubbers of sophomores and seniors. I'd as soon die as to run
down the hill after their letters."

"You might as well go, Shorts," put in Spuddy Preston; "you'll only get
yourself disliked if you don't, and you'll be made to go in the end. The
blessing of it all is that they did the same thing in their turn."

He took a slow measure of the distance between himself and the cuspidor,
and shot a piece of gum into it.

"It doesn't make it any pleasanter," put in Swipes Dillon. "Just think
of me, I haven't had a cent to spend on myself for weeks. Manchester's
capacity for smoke is enormous. I wish I had knocked his head clean off
his neck."

He looked gloomily out of the window as he muttered this, but instantly
brightened as he finished:

"But I can stand almost anything if they don't get hold of Graves. That
would spoil our fun altogether."

He unbent the small round body drawn up in a woful-looking ball, sitting
up to hear what the others had to say.

"Just let them take him!" growled Shorty Brown. "We will make it warm
for those sophs, but they're such sneaks that we can't put a moment's
trust in them. Why don't you say something, Captain?"

"Nothing to say, Boy," replied Jordan musingly, "only that we must do
all we can to shield Frederick. If they once get him we won't see him
until after the banquet. I fear, too, they might hurt him, for he would
be sure to put up a fight."

"So would I," boasted Spuddy. "You bet I would."

Swipes broke into a ringing laugh.

"You'd make a nice fighter, Spud," he chuckled; "you're not bigger than
a minute with fifty seconds in it. Gosh, I wish something would happen.
I'm tired sitting about doing nothing."

His words came to Dan Jordan through a dim maze of tangled thoughts.
During all his short, happy life anxiety had never been his companion
until now. It strangled his class ardor and made conscientious study
impossible. Teola Graves' tearful, pain-stricken face rose constantly
before him. His own eyes darkened at the thought. Oh, to go back to the
toffy pull--to live over again those last few weeks--how different it
all would be, and how repentant he was. He sighed and shook his great
shoulders and rose to his feet.

"I wonder where Graves is now," he exclaimed. "I met Armstrong and Howe
coming up the hill last night, talking with their heads close together.
I noticed th