"Poler or no poler," answered Lee, "he's got muscle all right, and he stood by me in the rush in great shape!"
Promptly at ten o'clock Young slammed shut his Homer and the Greek lexicon and started for University Hall, a big rambling place full of noisy, whistling students that scrape their feet along the wide carpetless corridors. He had done a good evening's work for himself; now he was going to work for Lee and for the class.
Some Sophomores at the foot of the third flight of stairs said, "Quack! quack! Freshmen!" as Young went by, but he did not mind that, and they did not dare do more because Sam, the night watchman, was downstairs in the main hall.
"Wasn't that Deacon Young?" said a man joining the group. "What did you let him go by for?"
It was Channing, of course, and he went hurrying upstairs after Young, to show off how bold he was.
"Channing certainly has nerve," said one of them.
By the time Channing caught up, Young had turned down the narrow corridor which led to Lee's room.
"You'll have to come back," said Channing, in a matter-of-fact way, which made it all the more irritating. "Here! I said, 'come back.'"
Young might have done it ordinarily, but he had promised Lee to come to his room at ten o'clock and he was accustomed to keep his word; he did not even look around.
Channing, catching up with him, laid a hand on his arm, and said, sneeringly, "Come back, or it'll be worse for you," and called Young a name that he should have known better than to call anyone unless willing to fight in consequence.