The two Freshmen stood motionless.
The voice now whispered, "Ninety-blank this way." It sounded friendly, but the thing for Young and Lee to do was not to wait to see whether it was friend or foe but turn, and run in opposite directions and then bring up afterward at their appointed meeting-place where the others were. That indeed was Lee's impulse, but, "Wait, it's one of our fellows," said Young, innocently, and just then several figures darted in at them and before Young or Lee could do anything more they were surrounded on all sides, seized by the arms and held tight.
"No use scrapping, fellows," said one of them in Young's ear, triumphantly. "We've got you, we've got you."
Just then the first figure walked close up to Young, turned the slide of a detective's dark-lantern, and remarked, calmly, as the dazzling light shone on Young's blinking eyes: "Yes, this is the old Deacon; well, well, that's good! that's good!"
It wasn't necessary to see the face. Young recognized the disagreeable, sneering voice.
CHAPTER VII
THE LAST HAZING OF "THE MEEK BUTT OF ALL CLASSES"
It was all Young's fault that his little friend Lee was, like himself, in the embarrassing embrace of these Sophomores, and he knew it; and that worried him more than anything they might do to himself. This was a fine way to repay Lee for his kindness!
Channing was still sticking the lantern up close to Young's blinking eyes, and saying, mockingly, "Well, well, you poor old fool of a Deacon! you poor old pathetic fool."