"But that's no reason why we should let them walk all over us!" exclaimed a sturdy lad, who had watched, with rising anger, the attack on Fenton. "I don't see why a crowd of us fellows should take whatever mean things they want to inflict." "That's all right, Clinton," declared Langridge. "It's college custom, just the same as it is for us to take the clapper out of the chapel bell, have it melted up, and cast into watch charms. It's college custom, that's all." "That's all right, it may be; but I like to see a fair fight!" went on Phil Clinton. "I could have tackled Morse alone, and he's bigger than I am." "Maybe you could, but you'd have the whole sophomore class down on us if you did, and you know what that means. No, let it go. Fenton brought it on himself by wearing the band." "I wish they'd tackled me," murmured the sturdy Clinton. "I wish they had," echoed Fenton. "Look at my hat." "That's all right, my uncle says I can have a new one!" piped up a shrill voice, in imitation of Fenton's usual tones. "Holly Cross, or I'm a Dutchman!" exclaimed Langridge, turning quickly to glance at a newcomer, who had joined the ranks of the freshmen. "Where've you been, Holly?" "Down by the boathouse, watching the crew practice. I'll give you an imitation of Billy Housenlager pulling," and Holly, or Holman, Cross, began a pretense of rowing in grotesque style. "That's Dutch all over," admitted Langridge. "He goes at it like a house and lot." "What's up?" demanded Holly, for he had seen from afar the little rumpus. "Has 'my uncle' been cutting up?" and he winked at Fenton. "That's all right," began the aggrieved one, who did not seem to know when he was being made fun of. "Look at my hat," and he held up the felt article, which was in tatters. "New style," commented Holly casually. "Good for hot weather. Fine for a souvenir. Hand it around and we'll all put our initials on it, and you can hang it in your room. But say, is there anything doing?" "There may be, to-night," answered Langridge. "So--so?" asked Holly with a wink, the while he pretended to ring an imaginary bell. "Keep it mum," was Langridge's answer. "You fellows want to meet at the boathouse to-night," he went on, as if giving orders. "Don't forget what I told you, and don't walk as if you had new shoes on. Take it easy. Be there at eight o'clock. Come along, Holly. I want to talk to you." Langridge linked his arm in that of the newcomer, and the two strolled off to one side of the college campus, while the group of freshmen made their way toward one of the two large dormitory buildings. "He orders us around as if we were working for him," objected Phil Clinton. "Langridge takes too much for granted." "Well, he's been here a year, and I s'pose he feels like a soph," remarked Sid Henderson.