“Rough? Oh no, we’ll be as gentle as lambs; eh boys?” retorted one of the hazers.
“Oh, no, we won’t do a thing to them!” cried another.
“Who’s in the next room?” demanded the leader of the band.
“Bondy Guilder,” replied Bill, indicating the room adjoining his, where the wealthy lad was domiciled.
“And on the other side?”
“Whistle-Breeches Anderson.”
“Good! Yank ’em both out, boys,” was the order, and some of the cohorts left to execute it, while our three heroes were pulled and hauled from their apartments, going not unwillingly, as they thought of Cap’s plan.
“Out on the diamond with them,” ordered the leader, who was addressed as “Senator” but with whom the Smith boys were not acquainted. “Bring along the other two.”
Pete and his brothers soon found themselves in the midst of a motley crowd of Freshmen, more or less alarmed over the ordeal in prospect. Some were cravenly begging to be let off. Others were threatening and some, like our friends, were silent, taking it as a matter of course.
“Now then, the gauntlet for some one,” ordered the Senator. “Line up, fellows. Here’s a good one to start with,” and he hauled Bondy Guilder out from the press.