“What’s the tax?” he asked, still smiling.
“The—er—the finance committee attends to that,” was the answer Langridge made. “They’ll meet to-night.”
Evidently he had not expected so ready a compliance on Tom’s part.
“Well, if it’s all settled, I move we adjourn,” suggested Ed Kerr. “Let’s have a scrub game, for luck.”
At that moment a lad came hurrying into the gymnasium.
“Where’s Langridge?” he asked excitedly.
“Here,” replied the baseball manager. “What’s up?”
“Hazing!” was the somewhat breathless answer. “The sophs are going to try it on to-night, to get square about the bell clapper. I just heard it.”
“That’s the stuff!” cried Phil Clinton. “Now we’ll get a chance to have some fun.”
“And I’ll pay ’em back for slashing my hat,” added Ford Fenton. “My uncle says——”