Little Brown shot into the air like a rubber ball.... A crashing sound broke over the silent, gaping throng below. Then a giant form turned twice in the air, shooting downward like a stone from a sling.... The crowd parted, and Dan Jordan struck the frozen ground. His fraternity brothers lifted up the unconscious boy, and the great roof above, with a sickening din, sank into the fire. The bitter frost hardened the streams of water pouring from holes in the burning house into ropes of ice. Toward morning, the fire died, leaving the huge frame, like an ice-covered palace, looming darkly against the college hill. * * * * * In another fraternity house, Shorts was in bed, face and hands swathed in bandages. Swipes and Spuddy, tear-stained and pale, stood by the door, waiting. "If only they would come and tell us something!" moaned Spuddy. "Boys, if the Captain goes, I'm done for." "We'll make it all right with him," came hopefully from Shorts. "He can't die, fellows! He's as strong as a horse. If he hadn't thrown me out into that snow pile, I would have been crushed under him. I'll never forget that in all my life," he finished, with a shudder. "Gad, but he looked dead when they picked him up," said Swipes in despair. "I'm done for, too, if--if.... Here comes some one! It's Teddy!" He stepped aside, and Manchester, entering deliberately, closed the door. Then he sat down dazedly. "He's gone, boys. The Captain's gone." The words came in a stammer through pressed lips. "I wish it had been I," muttered Swipes brokenly, when they were alone again. "It was all my fault." He burst into a wild sobbing. "I'd give my very life to have heard--the Captain--say he had forgiven me." "I was more to blame than you were," replied Spuddy. "My mother.... God! look at that sun!" Bright rays slanted golden through the window upon the three woful little freshmen who had ruined the "Cranium" Society. CHAPTER XXVII One day in the following July, Tessibel was going to Mrs. Longman's hut, with a list of Bible words she did not understand. She stopped at the edge of the forest, and listened to a curious sobbing sound she thought issued from beyond the gorge. Then, thinking herself mistaken, she ran nimbly on, avoiding the long thorns that lay in her path. The noise came more distinctly through the clear air, making the squatter girl lift her head and pause again. There was no mistake this time. "It ain't no pup," she said aloud, "'cause a pup don't snivel like that."