“I don’t care how it looks,” retorted Sam, and his tone was not as defiant as it had been, “I’ve got some studying to do, and I want to get at it.”
“Well, we’ve no objection to you doing all the studying you want to,” went on our hero, “but if things turn out the way I expect we won’t do much more Latin boning—until things are different.”
“That’s what!” came in a chorus from the others.
Sam Heller started to walk away, but Tom was not done with him yet.
“Look here. Heller,” went on his questioner. “What we want to know is, whether you’re with us or against us?”
“Why shouldn’t I be with you?”
“That’s not answering the question. We know how you trained in with the Sophomores at the hazing, and that doesn’t look as though you considered yourself a Freshman, though I know why you did it, all right,” and Tom looked at his enemy significantly.
“That’s what!” shouted Jack Fitch.
“Now, as I said,” went on Tom, “if we do strike, and refuse to recite to Skeel, it won’t amount to anything unless the class stands together. If even one member backs down it will look as though he didn’t believe our cause right and just, and we can’t afford to have that. Now, are you with us or against us? We want to know before we go any further.”
“And if you’re not with us, it won’t be healthy for you, Heller!” exclaimed Frank Ralston.