pportunity of seeing just what sort of
stuff the king of the sophomores was made of, and this was his chance.

Finding that they could not hold the freshmen back, the sophs had each
singled out a man, and the contest became hand to hand.

In a few moments several parties were down, and some of them rolled from
the sidewalk into the street.

Now that they had been forced to do battle, the sophs were desperate,
and they sailed in like a lot of tigers.

Rattleton found himself pitted against Andy Emery, and Emery had the
reputation of being as full of grit as a bulldog. He was on the 'Varsity
crew, and he had a back and shoulders which were the admiration of those
who had seen him strip to the buff.

Emery had a quick temper and a strong arm. He grappled with Harry,
lifted him off his feet and tried to throw him, but the freshman came
down on his feet like a cat.

A second later Emery was astonished to feel his own feet flung into the
air, and he could not help falling, but he clung to his antagonist and
they went down together.

Over and over they rolled, each striving to get on top. They were soon
off the sidewalk and into the street.

Emery was furious, for he felt that his dress suit was the same as
ruined, and he uttered some very savage language.

"That's right," chuckled Harry. "Cuss a little--it may help you."

It seemed to, for Emery finally succeeded in getting astride Rattleton
and holding him down for a few moments. He was soon pulled off by
another freshman, and the merry war went on.

Little Tad Horner was right in the hottest scrimmage, and he proved
formidable for the freshmen, despite his size. He had a way of darting
under them and tripping them up, then getting away before he could be
grappled.

Dismal Jones was quoting Scripture and doing his best to make himself
felt by the sophomores. Jones was a character. His parents were
"shouting Methodists," and they intended him for the ministry. He had a
long, sad face, but he was full of deviltry, and it was very seldom that
the freshmen entered into any affair against the sophomores that he was
not on hand and interested.

"Lay on and spare not!" he cried, after the style of a camp-meeting
revivalist. "If the wicked entice thee, consent thou not. Get behind me,
Satan! Brothers, oh, my dear brothers! it makes my heart sad and weary
to see so much wicked strife and contention."

Punch Swallows, the red-headed soph, found himself pitted against