THE POGUEY FIGHT
Fred staunched his bleeding nose at the basin in the corner, and then exchanged pillows with Howell Purdy. Fred slept on the burst one.
"I'll get into trouble anyway over this," Fred growled in Bobby's ear. "I wish I could have hit that mean bully just once with something hard."
Bobby hadn't the heart to scold. Fred had attacked a much bigger boy than himself just because that bully had flung a pillow at Fred's chum. That was the impulsive way of Fred Martin. Bobby knew that his chum was going to have a hard row to hoe here at Rockledge, unless he learned to control his temper.
Bobby Blake had some difficulty in getting to sleep that night—and that was not usually the case with him. The plan of Bill and Jack to haze the two newcomers to Rockledge had evidently been stopped. The dormitory was not disturbed until morning, save that once in the night Pee Wee had a nightmare and groaned and fought, until the next fellow to him punched him and woke him up.
"Wow!" said the fat boy, "I thought I was up in a balloon and they wanted to put me out instead of dropping sandbags."
"Don't eat so much at supper; then you won't dream such stuff," growled Mouser Pryde, punching his pillow and settling down again.
The rising bell at half past six got everybody but Pee Wee out of bed. Mouser pulled off the bed clothes, but that did not start the fat boy, and finally, when the others were half dressed, Mouser tiptoed over from the basins with a glass of water, and let the drops trickle down, one by one, upon Perry's fat neck.
"Ow! ow! ouch!" bawled Pee Wee. "Something's sprung a leak. Let me up before I drown!"
He struck the floor before he was half awake and landed in his bare feet upon a set of "jacks" that Shiner had conveniently dropped on the rug.