“Planked white fish?” interrupted the landlord, in indignant astonishment. “I give you not one white fish. I promised them not. For so little money, it is not--” But Kauffman had suddenly shut the door upon his protesting countenance, and turned to the group behind him. “How’s this, His Excellency denies the white fish?” “Oh! Oh! Oh!” exclaimed Edith Latta, tragically grasping the two girls within her reach, and drawing all eyes in her direction. “We forgot to have them sent down. We were scared out of our wits and we forgot everything.” Jack Kauffman, who seemed to thrive on bad luck, made straightway for the ’phone, his first resort in all such cases. He rang up Klumpf, the baker. “What about those fish? Are they done?” A silence. “How’s that? I couldn’t quite hear.” “Taken? Who-- Say! what was he like? Tall, light hair, wore a spotted vest and patent leathers. Well, I--” Kauffman hung up the receiver with an impatient twang. “I say, fellows and gentlemen, we’re done for. The Sophs have hooked our fish. Jim Wilmore and that crowd--” “Hello!” The door flew open suddenly, and Bill Winters, one of the Juniors, burst in. “Here’s something for you fellows. The Sophs sent it over to the Watson House, thinking you were there.” As he spoke he handed what looked like a letter to Jack Kauffman. “Looks as if they have taken your coats,” he added. “Coats!” exclaimed Crawford, in sudden surprise. “Why, I left mine in the ’bus.” “So did I, and I!” exclaimed several voices at once. Kauffman read the letter. “Ye green and verdant Freshmen are cordially invited to attend an auction sale of coats, to be held in the lower hall of the Goodwin immediately after the Sophomores partake of their white fish supper. We would state privately that in the pockets of these garments will be found many rare and valuable relics, such as autograph letters, signed by your own classmates, unpaid laundry bills, etc. These will be sold to the lowest bidder.” Embarrassment and indignation were plainly visible on the faces of the Freshmen, and both feelings were reflected in no small degree in the countenances of the girls. “White fish!” exclaimed Crawford, who was the first to recover from the general consternation. “That explains it.” “Why! How!” exclaimed the girls, who could not fully take in the situation. Kauffman looked up with a grim smile that was not entirely mirthful. “In other words,” he began, and his teeth seemed to cut each syllable, “they have scooped our coats and obtained our planked white fish under false pretenses. Now they propose to eat the fish under our very noses and sell the coats at public auction. Can such things be?” He looked about him upon the comical dismay of the group. Then a storm of indignant protests filled the air.