"Well, why don't you shiver?" demanded Mortimer. "That's snow--beautiful snow--all sorts of colored snow! Shiver, I tell you! It's snowing! Little Eva in Uncle Tom's Cabin--Eliza crossing the ice! Shiver now, you freshmen, shiver!" He was laughing in a silly sort of way. "That's right--shiver!" commanded some of Mortimer's companions. "Well, what are you waiting for?" jeered the society swell at Andy. "Why don't you shiver?" "I've forgotten how," said Andy, calmly. "Hang you, _shiver_!" and Mortimer fairly howled out the word. He started toward Andy, with raised arm and clenched fist. Among the possessions disturbed by the intruders was Andy's favorite baseball bat, which he had brought with him. Instinctively, as he retreated a step, his fingers clutched it. He swung it around and held it in readiness. Mortimer recoiled, and Andy, seeing his advantage, cried: "Get out of here! All of you. Come on, fellows, put 'em out!" He raised the bat above his head, without the least intention in the world of using it, but the momentum swung it from his hand and it struck Mortimer on the forehead. The lad who had led the "rough house" attack staggered for a moment, and then, blubbering, sank down in a heap on the floor. A sudden silence fell. In an instant Andy had sunk down on his knees beside his enemy and was feeling his pulse and heart. There was only a slight bruise on the forehead. "You--you've killed him!" whimpered one of the sophomores. "Nonsense!" exclaimed Dunk. "He's only over-excited." This was putting it mildly. Mortimer had been "celebrating," and had really fainted. "That was only a love tap," went on Dunk. "Chuck a little water in his face and he'll be all right." This was done and proved to be just what was needed. Mortimer opened his eyes. "What--what happened?" he asked, weakly. "Where--where am I?" "Where you don't belong," replied Dunk, sharply. "It's your move--get out!" "You--you struck me!" went on Mortimer, accusingly to Andy. "No, indeed, I did not! I thought you were coming for me, and so I raised the bat. It slipped." "I guess that's right, old man," said one of the sophomores, frankly. "I saw it. Mort has been going it too heavily. We'll get him out of here. No offense, I hope," and he looked around the dismantled room. "This is the usual thing." "Oh, all right," said Dunk. "We're not kicking. I guess we held up our end." "You sure did," returned one of the sophomores, as he glanced at the wilted Mortimer. "Come on, fellows." Andy, feeling easier now that he was sure Mortimer was not badly hurt, looked at the other lads. Two of them he recognized as the ones who had been with Gaffington when the loss of the money was discovered. Andy wondered whether it had been found, but he did not like to ask. "I--I'll get you for this! I'll fix you!" growled Mortimer, as his chums led him out of the room. "You--you----" and he swayed unsteadily, gazing at Andy.