“Put him out!”
“Who is he, anyhow?”
“Whoever heard of Bascome?”
Again the cries; again the banging of the gavel, and at last Tom succeeded in producing quiet.
“Mr. Bascome has the floor,” the chairman announced. “Do I understand that you ask that as a point of information?” and Tom gazed at the wealthy freshman, who, through all the tumult, had maintained his place, sneeringly indifferent to the threats made against him.
“That’s what I want to know,” he stated.
“I’ll let the entire college answer that if necessary,” declared Tom. “Mr. Bascome has asked a question——”
“Don’t answer him!” yelled Dutch.
Bang! went the gavel. From his corner where he had been seated, doing some figuring, Ed Kerr arose—his face white.
“Mr. Chairman! A question of personal privilege!” he cried.