In past years at the end of every January, the freshmen had held a banquet in the opera-house of the city. This event called forth practical jokes of all descriptions upon the first-year men from the sophomores and seniors, giving many anxious and worried moments to the younger students over the outcome of the one important event of the year. It had also been the custom to try to capture the president of the freshman class and hold him in seclusion until after the banquet, thereby making his opening speech impossible. The dread that they should lose their leader became more and more apparent among the banquet holders as the days advanced, and extensive plans had been made to protect Frederick Graves from his class enemies. For one whole month previous he had not been allowed to walk alone about the town, and it had been ordered that he should sleep at the fraternity house instead of at the Rectory, in order that the young president might be guarded against any surprise concocted by the sophomores. One evening at the Cranium Society several freshmen were seated in the billiard-room. "It's a great note," muttered Shorty Brown, "that we have to wait on those big lubbers of sophomores and seniors. I'd as soon die as to run down the hill after their letters." "You might as well go, Shorts," put in Spuddy Preston; "you'll only get yourself disliked if you don't, and you'll be made to go in the end. The blessing of it all is that they did the same thing in their turn." He took a slow measure of the distance between himself and the cuspidor, and shot a piece of gum into it. "It doesn't make it any pleasanter," put in Swipes Dillon. "Just think of me, I haven't had a cent to spend on myself for weeks. Manchester's capacity for smoke is enormous. I wish I had knocked his head clean off his neck." He looked gloomily out of the window as he muttered this, but instantly brightened as he finished: "But I can stand almost anything if they don't get hold of Graves. That would spoil our fun altogether." He unbent the small round body drawn up in a woful-looking ball, sitting up to hear what the others had to say. "Just let them take him!" growled Shorty Brown. "We will make it warm for those sophs, but they're such sneaks that we can't put a moment's trust in them. Why don't you say something, Captain?" "Nothing to say, Boy," replied Jordan musingly, "only that we must do all we can to shield Frederick. If they once get him we won't see him until after the banquet. I fear, too, they might hurt him, for he would be sure to put up a fight." "So would I," boasted Spuddy. "You bet I would." Swipes broke into a ringing laugh. "You'd make a nice fighter, Spud," he chuckled; "you're not bigger than a minute with fifty seconds in it. Gosh, I wish something would happen. I'm tired sitting about doing nothing."