Several freshmen ran back.
“I’ll help hold,” volunteered Tom, though there was a temptation to join the fighting throng that surrounded Langridge and his defenders.
The Snail slid to the ground, the rope was pulled from the cross, and the lads, coiling it up as they ran, hastened to the aid of their freshmen comrades.
[CHAPTER III]
A BASEBALL MEETING
“Swat ’em, freshmen! Swat ’em!” was the rallying cry of the first-year lads.
“Get the clapper! Get the clapper! Don’t let them get away with it!” implored the sophomores.
There was a confused mass of arms, legs and bodies. The mass swayed, now this way, now that. Tom Parsons, the Snail, Ed Kerr and some others who had remained behind to manage the rope, threw themselves into the fray. Their help turned the tide of battle, and the sophomores, who were outnumbered, turned and fled, leaving the freshmen victors of the fight.