"Oh, shut up," returned Bronson. "It wasn't my fault my record with the nine was brought out."
"If you'll do as well with the eleven as on the diamond, we'll forgive you," declared Buttons.
Just then Tompkins joined the group, fairly bubbling with excitement.
"What is it, Ned?" asked the group in chorus.
"I've got the dandy scheme. You all know 1912 is no ordinary Form, like those that have graduated before us. But that we may carve ourselves firmly into Baxter tradition, let's start the custom of a cane rush on opening night."
"Won't do for us—too frivolous," returned Buttons judiciously. "But it'll be a bully good stunt to put up to the Thirds and Seconds. The Seconds are a scrawny bunch, anyway, this year, so the Thirds can give them a good rush."
But, as luck would have it, the headmaster had come up as the boy spoke, and he peremptorily refused to allow the rush.
"You for a spoil-sport," growled Ned at Buttons, as Mr. Vining left them. "If you hadn't wanted to butt in and change my plan, we could have gone about making arrangements, and wouldn't have been here when the Head came along."
To make sure that all manner of hazing or rushing would be avoided, Mr. Vining stated to the students, when they assembled for class and lesson assignments in the afternoon, that suspension faced the first boy discovered trying them. And his ultimatum was effective.
Being deprived of this amusement, the Firsts turned their attention to football.