“We’re going to show John Drown how to celebrate,” replied Whitely. “Come on and see the fun.” The troop started, and Wolcott, who was out to see, started with the troop down Hale Street and toward the stables whence the barge had gone forth early in the evening. As they passed the stable entrance they met a big, square-shouldered fellow whom Wolcott recognized in the semi-darkness as Laughlin, and who by the same token recognized Wolcott overtopping by half a head his nearest neighbors. “Lindsay!” called Laughlin, sharply, halting and turning round. “Well, Dave,” called back Wolcott, jovially, “fall in if you want some fun.” “Come here a minute, won’t you, please?” continued Laughlin. The exclamations which this interruption called forth in Whitely’s company, Wolcott did not notice. “What are you up to with those fellows?” demanded Laughlin, earnestly. “We’re going over to get a rise out of John Drown,” replied Wolcott, innocently. “Who are they?” “Oh, Whitely and Reeves, and Marchmont, I think, is with them. Want to come along?” Laughlin laid his hand on Wolcott’s arm. “Wolcott, don’t do it. You’ll get into trouble or do something you’ll be everlastingly ashamed of when you wake up to-morrow. They aren’t out to-night on any good errand. Don’t go with them!” “Nonsense!” cried Wolcott. “I shan’t do anything out of the way. It’s just a little fun.” “I know better about that than you do. It’s something wrong, or they wouldn’t be in it. Let it alone and come back with me.” “Come on, if you’re coming,” called Whitely. “We can’t stay here all night.” “It’s all right,” insisted Wolcott, dropping his arm to free himself from Laughlin’s grasp. The strong fist merely clutched the tighter. “It isn’t all right. You’re going back on your word. You promised to try your hardest to make the eleven, and now you’re doing something that may prevent your making it at all, whether you play well or not.” “I don’t see that,” said Lindsay. “If you get into trouble and get fired you can’t make it, can you? You’re taking a risk that no football man ought to take, and taking it in spite of warning.” The conspirators were moving. “Good-by, darling,” shouted Reeves. “Always do what Nursey says!” Wolcott muttered an angry something that he would have preferred no one should hear. Laughlin clung to his purpose. “It’s for your own sake and my sake and the eleven that I ask it, Wolcott,” he pleaded. “Let them go without you.” The sound of footsteps and voices died away down the street. “Well, they’re gone!” said Wolcott, in sullen tones, after an interval of silence. “Now you’ve had your way, I hope you’re satisfied.” “I am,” replied Laughlin, coolly, “and you’ll be to-morrow. Good night.”