"Take care!" cried Langridge. "You're going too far. I'll make a class matter of it if you call me a coward again!" "I wish you would!" burst out Phil. "I'd like to make a charge against you before the whole college! Beating Wallops because he's smaller than you are!" "That wasn't it. He didn't do as I told him, and was insolent." "Who gave you the right to assume a mastery over him? Besides, from what I heard, you had evidently ordered him to do something against the rules." "Ah! So you were sneaking around to listen, were you?" sneered Langridge. "You know better than that, or I'd answer you in the same way I did at first," replied Phil. "If you send Wallops for liquor again I shall inform Dr. Churchill." "I always thought you were a tattling cad!" burst out Langridge. "Now I know it!" Hardly were the words out of his mouth ere Phil was beside him. The quarter-back was fairly trembling, and his voice shook as he shot out the words: "Take that back! Take it back, I say, or--or I'll----" He paused, emotion overcoming him, but from the manner in which he drew back his powerful left arm Langridge stepped aside apprehensively. "Well, you haven't any right to interfere in my affairs," he whined. "Do you take back what you said?" demanded Phil fiercely, and he laid a trembling hand on the shoulder of the bully. "Take your hand from me!" exclaimed Langridge. "Yes--I suppose I've got to--I can't fight a professional pugilist," he added with an uneasy laugh. "Thanks for the compliment," spoke Phil grimly. "I guess this can end where it is. As for you, Gerhart, if I thought you had any other part in this than being a tool of this coward, I'd give you the soundest thrashing you ever had." The freshman did not answer, and when Langridge turned aside Gerhart followed him into the shadows. Poor Wallops waited until they were out of sight, then the messenger trailed after Phil and Tom. On the way he haltingly told the chums that Langridge had been in the habit of sending him to town to purchase stimulants for him. It had come to the point where that night where the bartender had refused to sell any more liquor, warning having been given that sales to minors were becoming too frequent. It was the failure of Wallops to return with the whisky that angered Langridge. "Don't say anything about this, Wallops," advised Phil. "Langridge won't bother you again. If he does, let me know." "Yes, sir, and thank you, Mr. Clinton. I'll not tell." "I guess Langridge and Gerhart won't, either," commented Tom. "They'll be glad to let it drop." "What cads those fellows are," remarked Phil a little later, when he and Tom, having had a refreshing shower bath, were preparing for bed in their room. "Well, you took some of it out of Langridge, at all events," said the pitcher. "Maybe, but it will come back. I suppose I'll have to be on the lookout now, or he may do me a dirty turn."