Seeing that there was no chance to get the sofa away from its owners, to make a college holiday with it, Holly Cross and his friends turned back to look for another source of sport. Sid picked up the leg, and then, with Phil mounting the stairs backward, carrying one end, and Tom advancing and holding the other, the task was begun. Up the stairs they went, and when they were half way there appeared at the head of the flight two lads. They were both well dressed in expensive clothes, and there was about them that indefinable air of "sportiness" which is so easily recognizable but hard to acquire. "Hello, what's this?" asked the foremost of the two, as he looked down on the approaching cavalcade and the sofa. "Here, what do you fellows mean by blocking up the stairway? Don't you know that no tradesmen are allowed in this entrance?" "Who are you talking to?" demanded Phil, not seeing who was speaking. "It's Langridge," explained Tom, as he looked up and saw his former enemy and rival. "Oh, it's Parsons, Henderson and Clinton," went on Fred Langridge, as he recognized some fellow students. Then, without apologizing for his former words, he went on: "I say, you fellows will have to back down and let me and Gerhart past. We are in a hurry." "So are we," said Tom shortly. "I guess you can wait until we come up." "No, I can't!" exclaimed Langridge. "You back up! You have no right to block up the stairs this way!" "Well, I guess we have," put in Sid. "We're moving some of our things to our new room." Langridge, followed by the other well-dressed lad, came down a few steps. He saw the old sofa, and exclaimed: "What! Do you mean to say that you fellows are moving that fuzzy-wuzzy piece of architecture into this dormitory? I'll not stand for it! I'll complain to the proctor! Why, it's full of disease germs!" "Yes, and you're full of prune juice!" cried Phil Clinton, unable to stand the arrogant words and manner of Langridge. "Don't get gay with me!" exclaimed Tom's former rival. "I'll lay you five to three that you can't jump over their heads and clear the sofa," put in the other student, whom Langridge had called Gerhart. "Do any of you fellows want to bet?" he asked rather sneeringly, as he looked down at Tom, Phil and Sid. "I guess not," answered Tom, good-naturedly enough. "Ah, you're not sports, I see," rejoined Gerhart. "I thought you said this was a sporty college, Langridge?" "So it is, when you strike the right crowd, and not a lot of greasy digs," was the answer. "I say, are you chaps going to move back and let me and Gerhart pass?" he went on. "No, we're not," replied Phil shortly. "You can wait until we get up. Go on back now, Langridge, and we'll soon have this out of the way."