"Burning it up would be the best method of getting it out of the way," declared Langridge, still with that sneer in his voice. "I never saw such a disgraceful piece of furniture. What do you fellows want with it? Surely you're not going to put it in your room." "That's just what we are going to do," declared Sid. "We wouldn't part with this for a good bit, would we, fellows?" "Nope," chorused Phil and Tom. "Did it come over in the _Mayflower_?" asked Gerhart. "I'm willing to bet ten to one that if you think it's an antique that you're stuck. How about it?" "You're quite a sport, aren't you, freshie?" asked Phil suddenly, for he knew that the new student must belong to the first-year class. "Of course I'm a sport, but if you go to calling names I'll show you that I'm something else!" exclaimed the other fiercely. "If you want to do a little something in the boxing line----" "Dry up!" hastily advised Langridge in a whisper. "You're a freshman, and you know it. They're sophomores, and so am I. Don't get gay." "Well, they needn't insult a gentleman." "Tell us when one's around, and we'll be on our good behavior," spoke Phil with a laugh. "Come, now, are you fellows going to back down and let us pass?" asked Langridge hastily. "Like the old guard, we die, but never surrender," spoke Tom. "We're not going to back down, Langridge. It's easier for you to go back than for us." "Well, I'm not going to do it. You have no right to move your stuff in here, anyhow. The rooms are furnished." "We want our old chair and sofa," explained Sid. "I should think you'd be ashamed to bring such truck into a decent college," expostulated Langridge. "It looks as if it had been through a fire in a second-hand store." "That'll do you," remarked Phil. "This is our sofa, and we'll do as we please with it." "You won't block up my way, that's one thing you won't do," declared Langridge fiercely. "I'm going down. Look out! If I upset you fellows it won't be my fault." He started down the stairs, and managed to squeeze past Phil, who, though he did not like Langridge, moved as far to one side as possible in the narrow passage. As Langridge passed the sofa he struck it with a little cane he carried. A cloud of dust arose. "Whew!" exclaimed the sporty lad. "Smell the germs! Wow! Get me some disinfectant, Gerhart." Whether it was the action of Langridge in hitting the sofa that caused Tom to stagger, or whether Phil was unsteady on his feet and pushed on the sofa, did not develop. At any rate, just as Langridge came opposite to Tom on the stairs, the former pitcher was jostled against his rival. Langridge stumbled, tried to save himself by clutching at Tom and then at the sofa. He missed both, and, with a loud exclamation, plunged down head first, bringing up with a resounding thud at the bottom. CHAPTER III PHIL GETS BAD NEWS