Fred Hart, who was the eldest son of a country clergyman, and preparing for college at Whitford Boys' Academy, was known at that classical institution as a "dig," because he "dug" into his books and studied hard. His room-mate, Neal Howe, an orphan, dependent upon his own exertions, was styled a "digger;" and as both lads were rather dark, it was but a step for those wicked upper-story boys to stigmatize them, "Digger Indians!" This term was gradually extended to include all the boys in the second story, for they were all hard students. The "Diggers" retaliated mildly by styling their upper-story neighbors, "Camanches." The Camanches perpetrated all sorts of schoolboy atrocities on the Diggers, but, above all things else, they burned for a pillow-fight. In vain they challenged the Diggers to combat. Those law-abiding savages declined, though well aware of thereby falling into contempt on charge of cowardice. Unmistakable indications were soon apparent that the Camanches meditated an attack. The north wing was intended to be fire-proof, and each story was separated from the main building by iron doors which usually were fastened back by staples. The Camanches reasoned that these doors might be as effectual in shutting off teachers as fire; and the staples in both the second and third stories were one day withdrawn, so that these doors could be easily closed. Scouting parties reported that the Camanches were getting ready the war-paint,--_i.e._, the burnt cork,--and one ferocious savage had intimated that they should spare neither age nor sex. A council was immediately held in Fred Hart's room, and Fred unanimously chosen chief. "If they're determined on a pillow-fight they shall have it," resolutely remarked that warrior. The Diggers proposed using their own pillows as reserve arms only, and the next day any number of this tribe might have been seen scouring the village on mysterious errands, which the housewives would have explained as an effort to buy up old pillows. "All's fair on the defensive," said Chief Fred, and each Digger ripped open one end of his pillow, poured in a little mucilage, and then basted it up, in accordance with the liberal views boys always entertain concerning "basting." At a little after nine o'clock, when the lights had been extinguished, and a teacher made the nightly rounds, a Camanche scout quietly closed and bolted the iron doors and relighted the hall lamps. Then, with hair-starting war-whoops, the savages began dropping down through the trap-door, which opened from one hall to another in the capacity of fire-escapes. The Diggers, peacefully studying in their rooms, were summarily ordered into the hall to battle. Every man protested, but the Camanches refused to parley. Then, seizing their weapons, the assailed marched forth to the field of carnage. Thwack! went the blows of the Camanches. Thwack! the Diggers. Thwack! the Camanches. Thwack! the Diggers.