"Not as funny as what your uncle might have said," remarked Sid, who some time previously had planned to have his chums give this signal of disapproval the moment Ford mentioned his relative. "Well, I guess it's all understood," went on Dutch. "We'll have a sort of go-as-you-please affair until we get to the hall in Haddonfield." "I hear Langridge isn't coming," said Ford. "Who told you?" asked Sid. "Why, he did. I asked him if he was going to be on hand, and I told him about a dinner where my uncle said----" "I guess he doesn't want to come because he is afraid your uncle will be there," declared Tom with a good-natured laugh. "More likely because the dinner isn't going to be sporty enough for him," was the opinion of Dutch. "Well, we don't want anybody that doesn't want to come. But I've got to go and attend to some loose ends. Now mind, mum's the word, fellows, not only as regards talk, but don't act so as to give the sophs a clue. See you later," and he hurried off. Few in the freshman class did themselves justice in recitations that day from too much thinking about the fun they would have at the dinner that night. Even Tom fell below his usual standard, and as for Sid, his rendering of Virgil was something to make Professor Tines (who was a good classical scholar, whatever else he might be) shudder in anguish. But Sid didn't mind. "I tell you what it is, old man," spoke Sid to Tom that evening as they prepared to leave for the spread, "we'd better go it alone, I think." "Just what I was about to propose. If we leave here together, some sneaking soph will be sure to spot us. Will you go first or shall I?" "You'd better take it first. There's a hole in one of my socks I've got to sew up. I never saw clothes go the way they do when a laundry gets hold of 'em." "Can you darn socks?" "Well, not exactly what you'd call _darn_," explained Sid. "I just gather up a little of the sock where the hole is and tie a string around it. It's just as good as darning and twice as quick. I learned that from a fellow I roomed with at boarding school. But go ahead, if you're going." It was quite dark now and Tom, after a cautious look around the entrance of the dormitory, to see if any sophomores were lurking about, stole silently down toward the river. He intended to take the road along the stream, cross the bridge and board a trolley for Haddonfield, which plan would be followed by a number of the freshmen. Tom was almost at the bridge when he saw a number of dark shadows moving about near the structure. "Now, are they sophs or our fellows?" he mused as he cautiously halted. He thought he recognized some of his classmates and went on a little further. "Here comes one!" he heard in a hoarse whisper. Tom stopped. It was so dark he could not tell friends from foes. But he knew a test. A countersign had been agreed upon. "What did the namby-pamby say?" he asked. Back came the answer in a hoarse whisper: "Over the fence is out!"