One evening Quincy and Tom went to the theatre together. During a pathetic speech by the heroine the clang of a big cow bell was heard. The audience vented its displeasure in hisses. Again came the clangour and all eyes were turned towards the unconscious youths, Quincy and Tom. Again were the policemen called in. Two young men who sat behind Quincy and his friend were accused of causing the disturbance. They indignantly denied any knowledge of it and left the theatre threatening a suit for damages. Further investigation by the minions of the law discovered the bell fastened to the hat-holder beneath Quincy's seat, while the string that served as a bell pull was under Tom's foot. Denial of such strong circumstantial evidence was useless and Quincy and Tom promised to cause no further annoyance. On their way home in the car they discussed the situation. “It's Dupont and Kidder that put that up on us, and we must get even,” said Tom. “But how?” was the question. A week later Tom purchased tickets for a whole row of seats at one of the principal theatres, explaining that they were for a large theatre party. Dupont and Kidder had been recipients of complimentary tickets which entitled them to seats in the middle of the row. They expected that Quincy and Tom and other students would complete the party. Not so, as events proved. Dupont and Kidder, immaculately dressed, had for companions two waitresses at a well-known Cambridge café, two Harvard Square hairdressers, and a number of individuals whose dress and general appearance indicated physical strength rather than mental powers. Dupont and Kidder went out at the end of the first act and did not return. The next time that Tom met Fred Dupont he asked, “Do you believe in the Declaration of Independence?” “My great-grandfather signed it,” said Dupont proudly. “How does it read?” asked Tom--“something about men being born free and equal--a barber's as good as a millionaire's son--isn't it?” “It's all right,” replied Dupont, “Kidder and I only took one bell to the theatre, but you kindly supplied us with two. Nothing's too good for us at that café now, and we've invited Kitty and May to go to the theatre with us to-morrow night.” “It's no use, Quincy,” said Tom. “Dupont and Kidder took their medicine as patiently as we did, and they liked it so well they're going to have more of it.” Then he told Quincy what Dupont had said. “The victory's ours,” cried Quincy. “That shows that Americans, rich or poor, are democratic at heart. All that keeps them apart is the foolish idea that the possession of money lifts them above their fellows. Put them on a money equality, and only the very exclusive ones will care about the colour of their blood. It was a good lesson for Dupont and Kidder whose fathers are wealthy men, and they have wisely profited by it.” “Then you don't believe in social castes?” said Tom.