CHAPTER IV
WELCOME AND UNWELCOME VISITORS
Suppose you were a Freshman and hazing were still in vogue, and the first callers in your college course were two Sophomores, and each of them had reasons for wanting to humiliate you, and one of the fellows was a football player with muscles larger than your own; how would you feel if they strode into your room, looking arrogant?
You, possibly, might not mind it. If so, Will Young was different from you, for he felt very queer as he arose from his chair.
Channing said, "How do you do, Mr. Young?" Then, closing the door so the landlady might not hear, "Well, Deacon," with his sarcastic smile, "we've come for you."
Young said nothing. Instinctively he offered chairs.
"This is Deacon Young of Squeedunk, the freshest man in the class, Bally. Bow, Freshman, to Mr. Ballard, of whom you have doubtless heard—the famous centre rush of the famous Sophomore football eleven that will do your futile Freshman team up so badly you can't see, later in the term."
"No, thanks," said the big fellow to Young, in a very big voice, "never sit on chairs." He had seated himself on Young's table, with one foot on a chair, and was looking around the room as Channing went on:
"We secured several of your charming classmates on the campus. They aren't far away from here now." Ballard chuckled at this. "But we missed you on the campus, Deacon. You must have run home after the rush."
The Sophomores both laughed at this, but Young said nothing, and wondered how Channing had found out where he roomed.