The “plebes” knew their places well.
The four friends were enjoying their cream, and wondering what next they could do to help pass the day, when Tom, whose back was toward the cafe garden, heard his name spoken loudly.
“Sit down!” some one exclaimed.
Tom looked around and saw Clarence Hawkesbury at a table where sat some upper classmen.
Clarence seemed a bit unsteady on his feet. His face was flushed and he pointed a wavering finger at Tom.
“There he is!” he said. “There’s the fellow who did me out of my trick at West Point. If it wasn’t for him I’d be with you now—with you, my friends,” and he waved his hand to include the older cadets.
“Sit down!” some of them advised him. Others laughed. They were all rather noisy and hilarious.
“I—I’ll fix him,” Clarence continued.
Young Hawkesbury strode over toward Tom’s table.
“He’s coming,” said Sam in a low voice. “Want to duck out?”