Here’s to Sammy’s son, bring him down, bring him down: Here’s to Sammy’s son, bring him down, bring him down: Here’s to Sammy’s son, for he’s always full of fun; Bring him down, bring him down, bring him down, down, down, down. Young Lee recognized the tenor voice in a moment. He and Parmenter were bosom friends. Their companions had long ago dubbed them Damon and Pythias. “Hello, Fred!” cried Lee, “are you there? Hello, fellows! Is there room for me?” “Always room for one more,” was the reply. “Move up, please! Move up now and let the gentleman aboard! Why don’t you help him on, Freddie? Help him on; he’s yours.” There was more good-natured bantering. Then the party faced toward the campus and started on, singing a good-night song to Professor Lee: Good-night, Sammy! Good-night, Sammy! Good-night, Sammy! We’re going to leave you now. Merrily we roll along, roll along, roll along; Merrily we roll along O’er the deep blue sea. The steps sounded in unison, the heavy canes beat time, and back from the campus, mellowed by the growing distance, came still the music of the song: Sweet dreams, Sammy! Sweet dreams, Sammy! Sweet dreams, Sammy! We’re going to leave you now. Through a half-open window the words came floating softly into the ears of Professor Lee, and he smiled as he thought of the real affection and seeming irreverence of the boys. Though his hair was white with years, his heart was very youthful. He liked young men, and sympathized with them. He entered heartily into both their work and play. He enjoyed their fun, approved of their games, and was the champion of athletics at Concord. But the doubtful sport of hazing he detested with his whole soul, and did not hesitate to say so. Every one was aware of his feeling on this subject, but there were few who knew why it was so deep. In a distant city, confined in an asylum for the insane, Professor Lee’s only brother had lived for years, an imbecile. His condition was the direct result of injuries received at the hands of college hazers in his youth. With this sorrow shadowing his life, it is not strange that hazing was an object of horror and hatred in Professor Lee’s thoughts. The party of students, now headed by Parmenter and Lee, passed on across the campus, still singing. From the shadows of North College the tall figure of a young man emerged and came toward them. In the bright moonlight he was recognized at once as Van Loan, a man who had recently entered the Freshman class, coming from another college. He had brought with him a reputation for mental ability and physical strength that gave him at once a prominent position among his fellows. But he was inordinately vain. He did not hesitate to boast of his wealth, of his aristocratic lineage, and of his superior attainments.