yelled Ken, as he threw. And seldom it was that
dodging was of any use. Then, coming to the end of his ammunition,
he surveyed the battle-field beneath him and, turning, ran across
the avenue and down a street. At the corner of the block he looked
back. There was one man coming, but he did not look like a student.
So Ken slackened his pace and bent his steps toward his boarding-house.

"By George! I stole those potatoes!" he exclaimed, presently. "I wonder
how I can make that good."

Several times as he turned to look over his shoulder he saw the man he
had noticed at first. But that did not trouble him, for he was sure no
one else was following him. Ken reached his room exhausted by exertion
and excitement. He flung himself upon his bed to rest and calm his mind
so that he could think. If he had been in a bad light before, what was
his position now? Beyond all reasoning with, however, was the spirit
that gloried in his last stand.

"By George!" he kept saying. "I wouldn't have missed that--not
for anything. They made my life a nightmare. I'll have to leave
college--go somewhere else--but I don't care."

Later, after dinner as he sat reading, he heard a door-bell ring, a
man's voice, then footsteps in the hall. Some one tapped on his door.
Ken felt a strange, cold sensation, which soon passed, and he spoke:

"Come in."

The door opened to admit a short man with little, bright eyes sharp
as knives.

"Hello, Kid," he said. Then he leisurely removed his hat and overcoat
and laid them on the bed.

Ken's fear of he knew not what changed to amazement. At least his
visitor did not belong to the faculty. There was something familiar
about the man, yet Ken could not place him.

"Well up in your studies?" he asked, cordially. Then he seated himself,
put a hand on each knee, and deliberately and curiously studied Ken.

"Why, yes, pretty well up," replied Ken. He did not know how to take
the man. There was a kindliness about him which relieved Ken, yet there
was also a hard scrutiny that was embarrassing.

"All by your lonely here," he said.

"It is lonely," replied Ken, "but--but I don't get on very well with
the students."

"Small wonder. Most of 'em are crazy."

He was unmistakably friendly. Ken kept wondering where he had seen him.
Presently the man arose, and, with a wide smile on his face, reached
over and grasped Ken's right arm.

"How's the whip?"

"What?" asked Ken.

"The wing--your arm, Kid, your a