"Come on!" called Dutch. "We'll call on Holly." As the three strolled down the corridor, out on the campus, and in the direction of Holly's room, the genial center fielder having an apartment in one of the college club houses, Dutch nudged his companions. "Look," he remarked, "there go Ford Fenton and Bert Bascome, with several freshies. I don't like to see one of the sophs mixing it up so close with the first years." "Me either," agreed Tom. "Ford ought to stick to his own class. The trouble is few of our fellows like him, on account of his ways and his 'uncle,' whereas the freshmen will stand for them. That's why Ford hangs out in their camp. But with our annual spring dinner coming off, I don't like it." "Oh, Ford wouldn't dare betray us," was Phil's opinion. They kept on across the campus, and were soon in Holly's room, where plans for the dinner were eagerly discussed. If they could have seen what took place a little later in the room of Bert Bascome, the four sophomores would have had more cause than ever to regret the intimacy between Ford Fenton and some of the first-year crowd. "It's your best chance to get even with them for making fun of you, Ford," Bascome was urging the lad whose uncle had once been a coach at Randall. "It will serve them right." "But I hate to give their plans away," objected Ford. "I'm a sophomore, and----" "They don't treat you as one," urged Henry Delfield, Bascome's crony. "It will be a fine chance to get back at them." "Suppose they find out that I told?" asked Ford. "They never will. We'll see to that," promised Bert eagerly. "All we want you to do is to tell us where the dinner is going to be held. We'll do the rest. There'll be a fight, of course, when we arrive, to break it up, and, just so Parsons, Clinton, Henderson and that crowd won't be suspicious, you can pitch into me--make believe knock me down, you know, and all that. Then they won't have any suspicion of you." "Think not?" inquired Ford. "Sure not. All we want is a tip, and when you've given it you'll be in a position to laugh at those fellows who are laughing at you so often." "That's right, they do make a lot of fun of me," said Ford weakly. "All right, I'll let you know, as soon as I find out where the dinner's going to be held. But don't squeal on me," and the prospective traitor looked apprehensively at the plotting freshmen. "Not for worlds," Bascome assured him solemnly, and Ford left, promising to deliver his classmates into the hands of their traditional enemies. CHAPTER XXIX THE SOPHOMORE DINNER When Phil, Tom and Dutch Housenlager came from Holly's room that evening, they were just in time to see Ford Fenton emerge from his plotting conference with Bascome and his cronies. "I don't like that," exclaimed Phil. "Ford has been in with those fellows for some time." "Probably trying to think up some scheme so he can get to be baseball manager next year," suggested Tom.