ry, here's a cigar--light up," said Dale, soothingly.
"It's all coming right, lovely, I say. Ward was game to hunt me up,
a thousand times gamer than he knows.... See here, Ward, where are
you from?"

"I live a good long day's travel from the university," answered Ken,
evasively.

"I thought so. Did you ever hear of the bowl-fight, the great event
of the year here at Wayne University?"

"Yes, I've heard--read a little about it. But I don't know what it is."

"I'll tell you," went on Dale. "There are a number of yearly rushes and
scrapes between the freshmen and sophomores, but the bowl-fight is the
one big meeting, the time-honored event. It has been celebrated here for
many years. It takes place on a fixed date. Briefly, here's what comes
off: The freshmen have the bowl in their keeping this year because they
won it in the last fight. They are to select one of their number, always
a scrappy fellow, and one honored by the class, and they call him the
bowl-man. A week before the fight, on a certain date, the freshmen hide
this bowl-man or protect him from the sophomores until the day of the
fight, when they all march to Grant field in fighting-togs. Should the
sophomores chance to find him and hold him prisoner until after the date
of the bowl-fight they win the bowl. The same applies also in case the
bowl is in possession of the sophomores. But for ten years neither class
has captured the other's bowl-man. So they have fought it out on the
field until the bowl was won."

"Well, what has all that got to do with me?" asked Ken. He felt curiously
light-headed.

"It has a _little_ to do with you--hasn't it, fellows?" said Dale, in
slow, tantalizing voice.

Worry Arthurs lost his worried look and began to smile and rub his hands.

"Ward, look here," added Dale, now speaking sharply. "You've been picked
for the bowl-man!"

"Me--me?" stammered Ken.

"No other. The freshmen were late in choosing a man this year. To-day,
after your stunt--holding up that bunch of sophomores--they had a meeting
in Carlton Club and picked you. Most of them didn't even know your name.
I'll bet the whole freshman class is hunting for you right now."

"What for?" queried Ken, weakly.

"Why, I told you. The bowl-fight is only a week off--and here you are.
_And here you'll stay until that date's past!_"

Ken drew a quick breath. He began to comprehend. The sudden huzzahs of
Dale's companions gave him further enlightenment.

"But, Capt