"I don't--want--to--get--in," panted the poor wretch in desperate protest. "It's--a--mistake--I----" "See here, Professor; where's your nerve? Be a man! You'll never make a Rho at this rate. Brace up, for Heaven's sake! Rise, Neophyte." They gave the rope a cruel wrench, which brought their captive to his feet. "Let's kill him," whispered one of the men. Never before had there been so shameful a display of the white feather. "We'll duck him." They brought their Freshman to the brink of the well. They tightened the rope under his arms, and, before he could divine their intentions, they were lowering him down the slippery side. When his feet struck the cold water he struggled violently, shouting something which his splashing and the echo of the well made unintelligible. Presently they hoisted him, dripping and speechless with rage. "Thou hast now been cleansed of thy sin and cowardice, O Neophyte," declaimed Pellams. "Forward to the joys that await thee!" They dragged him home on the run, taking the road this time and making all haste to the house. The half-dead initiate had to be carried upstairs. Smith took off the rope and told him to strip for a bath. The victim sat on the edge of the Sophomore's bed and shook his head feebly. He was evidently exhausted. "Come, hurry up, Haviland," said Cap. He felt a brutal impatience to see what the barrel staves had done to the fellow's back. "Get bathed and put on your dry clothes and be ready for the feed." The initiate raised his hands slowly and untied the bandage. He blinked a moment at Smith, then he said huskily, "I am not Haviland, Mr. Smith, nor do I want any 'feed.' I want to know what this means." There was no anger in his voice, only great weariness. The freezing truth dawned on the horrified student. His first impulse was to rush out of the house and to keep running. He managed to stammer: "Where's Haviland?" "I don't know where Haviland is," muttered the tired instructor. "I don't know who Haviland is. If I have taken his place I am ready to change again." He looked down upon his clothes, stuccoed with tarweed burrs and wet mud. Then Jack Smith laughed aloud. "Professor, when we've found Haviland, and you've seen him, you'll understand the whole horrible mistake, and----" "There was no mistake," said the other, coldly, "you called me Professor while you were beating me." This only set Smith off again. "That's our name for Haviland. You see he looks like you--oh, I can't explain it to you, Professor; but when you've seen the man you'll forgive us, I know you will. And you've simply got to stay to our feed now, if we have to tie you up again to keep you here." Professor Lamb, of the botany department, smiled wanly. "I think I will take a bath, anyway," he sighed. THE SUBSTITUTED FULLBACK. The Substituted Fullback.