The Snail slid to the ground, the rope was pulled from the cross, and the lads, coiling it up as they ran, hastened to the aid of their freshmen comrades. CHAPTER III A BASEBALL MEETING "Swat 'em, freshmen! Swat 'em!" was the rallying cry of the first-year lads. "Get the clapper! Get the clapper! Don't let them get away with it!" implored the sophomores. There was a confused mass of arms, legs and bodies. The mass swayed, now this way, now that. Tom Parsons, the Snail, Ed Kerr and some others who had remained behind to manage the rope, threw themselves into the fray. Their help turned the tide of battle, and the sophomores, who were outnumbered, turned and fled, leaving the freshmen victors of the fight. "Have you got the clapper, Langridge?" called Kerr anxiously. "Of course," and the lad addressed produced the unwieldy souvenir from underneath his coat. "Then get it to our room and hide it," went on Kerr. "They'll not give up yet. We've got to expect a hunt for it to-night." Kerr and Langridge, who roomed together, started away, the clapper of the bell safe in their possession, while the others brought up the rear, a guard against a possible unexpected attack. But none was made, and presently the long, iron tongue was safely hidden in the rooms of the freshmen. "I say," remarked Tom Parsons to Sidney Henderson, when the excitement had somewhat calmed down, "I wonder if I'd better report to the proctor, or to Dr. Churchill to-night. I've just entered, you know." "What's the use?" asked his companion. "You're to room with me--that's settled. Mr. Zane, the proctor, won't want to be disturbed. Besides, I rather think that Dr. Churchill, our venerable and respected head--by the way, we call him Moses, you know--I say I don't believe he'd thank you for coming." "Why not?" "Well, you see, there's been more or less of doings to-night. Of course, the faculty are not supposed to know that we take the bell clapper, but you can bet they do know. They pretend not to, and take no notice of it. If you were to go and ring Moses up at this hour, he'd have to become aware--take cognizance, he'd call it--of our little racket. That might make trouble. No, on the whole, let the proctor and Moses alone." "Why Moses?" "What's that?" "I say--why Moses?" "Oh, I see. Well, we call him that from his name. Church and hill. Moses went up on a hill to preach about the church, hence--aha! see?" "You needn't draw a map," answered Tom, "even if I am from the country." "That's so, you're from Northville, where dad used to live." "That's right." "Well, I wouldn't boast of it, if I were you--especially when any of the fellows are around." "Why not?" "Well, of course it's all right with me--I understand, but they might make fun of you--rig you, you understand." "Yes, I understand, but I don't mind being 'rigged,' as you call it. I fancy I can do some 'rigging' on my own hook." "All right, it's your funeral. I've warned you."