“Here you are, young gentlemen! Here you are!” the voice of the vendor was murmuring. “You have listened with gratifying attention to the patter of Professor Theophilus Clatter, and now you may buy his wares. You need not beware of the wares of Theophilus Clatter!” he declaimed in a sing-song voice. “That’s him!” exclaimed Pete. “Of course,” agreed Bill. “And they’re going to make a rough house for him,” added Cap. “Shall we stand for it?” he asked in a low voice. “How are we going to stop them?” demanded Bill. “If we say he’s a friend of ours I think they’ll pass it up.” “Acknowledge him as our friend before this crowd—tell how we traveled with him and sold patent medicines,” asked Pete. “They’d laugh at us!” “What of it?” inquired Cap indignantly. “Professor Clatter helped us when we were in a hole, after we’d run away from home. It’s up to us to help him now. I’m going to stand up for him. If the boys get going they’ll demolish the wagon, and everything in it. We can’t have that.” “I guess not,” agreed Pete and Bill in low tones. “Come on then,” suggested their elder brother, edging his way through the throng. The plan proposed by the rich bully had taken the fancy of his fellows. The word was passed around and the students got ready for a rush that would overturn the wagon. Already they were jostling the professor who was aware of a change in the temper of the students. He looked around uneasily, and glanced back at his wagon. Quite a throng was now between him and the vehicle. He turned to retreat, vaguely alarmed, but found himself cut off. “My Rapid Robust Resolute Resolvent,” he was saying, “is guaranteed to—” “Come on now, fellows, over with the wagon!” cried Guilder. “Altogether, with a rush! Make a rough house! This faker has no business here!” The rush started but before it could get under way, Cap, Pete and Bill Smith had sprung up on the steps that were let down from the back of the vehicle. They stood together looking over the crowd of their fellow students. “Hold on!” cried Cap calmly, raising his hand for silence. “What’s up?” demanded Bondy with a sneer. Professor Clatter, with a look of wonder on his face was staring at the three Smith boys. “No rough house here,” said Cap determinedly, noting with relief that nearly every one in the crowd was a Freshman. Had they been Sophomores, Juniors or Seniors he would hardly have dared take the stand he did. “No rough house? Why not?” demanded the rich lad. “Why can’t we have some fun with this fellow?” “Because,” went on Cap resolutely, and no one knew what an effort it was to make the announcement in an exclusive crowd of students, “this man is a friend of my brothers and myself. If you’re going to make trouble for him, you’ve got to reckon on us,” and Cap standing there, with his brothers beside him, looked sturdy enough to put up a pretty good argument. “Your friend?” sneered Bondy.