"Here! Quit! I'll have you expelled for that!" spluttered Bascome, rising and making a rush for Dutch. But he was surrounded by a mass of students, who laughed and joked with him, shoving him from side to side until he was so mauled and hauled and mistreated that he was glad to make his escape. "Little rat!" muttered Holly Cross, as he saw Bascome and Ford going off together. "That's all they're good for--to make trouble." "Yes," agreed Tom, "Bascome's been sore ever since he couldn't have his way about electing Ford Fenton manager. But I guess we're out of the woods now. Get in good shape for the Richfield game Saturday, fellows." The crowd rushed from the gymnasium, laughing and shouting, and refusing to listen to Kerr, who still talked of resigning, though he was finally shown that the objection to him amounted to nothing. It was still light enough for some practice, and most of the lads headed for the diamond. Tom, Phil and Sid walked along together. As they passed under the side window of the East Dormitory, where the freshmen and seniors roomed, Phil spied, hanging from a casement, a tall, silk hat. "Get on to the tile!" he cried. "Some blooming freshman must have hung it there to air, ready for a shindig to-night. Bet you can't hit it, Tom. Two out of three. If you do I'll stand for sodas for the bunch." "It's a go!" agreed the pitcher. "Here's a ball," remarked Sid, handing Tom one. "Let's see what you can do." Tom fingered the horsehide, glanced critically at the hat, which hung on a stick out of the window, and then drew back his arm. "Here goes!" he cried, and, an instant later the ball was whizzing through the air. Straight as the proverbial arrow it went, and so skillfully had Tom thrown, that the spheroid went right into the hat--and, came out on the other side, through the top of the crown, making a disastrous rent. Then ball and hat came to the ground together. "Fine shot!" cried Phil admiringly. "That hat won't do duty to-night," observed Sid. "You knocked the top clean out, Tom," and he ran forward to pick it up. As he did so he was aware of an indignant figure coming from the dormitory. So, in fact, were Phil and Tom. A moment later, as Sid held the ruined silk hat in his hands, Professor Emerson Tines confronted the lads. "May I ask what you young gentlemen are doing with my hat?" he asked in frigid tones. "Your--your hat?" stammered Tom. "My hat," repeated the stern teacher. "I was a witness to your act of vandalism. You may come with me to Dr. Churchill at once!" CHAPTER XXV A PETITION Phil, Tom and Sid stood staring blankly at one another. Sid still held the broken hat, until Professor Tines came up and took it from him. "Ruined, utterly ruined!" murmured the teacher. "My best hat!" "We--I--that is I--didn't know it was your hat," stammered Tom. "I threw the ball through it."