“Ward, you're all right!” shouted Dale, his eyes shining.
In the quiet moment that followed, with all the sophomores watching him intently, Ken Ward instinctively felt that his measure had been taken.
“I won't stay here,” said Ken, and for the first time his voice rang.
“Oh yes, you will,” replied Dale, laughing.
Quick as a cat Ken leaped for the door and got it unlocked and half open before some one clutched him. Then Dale was on him close and hard. Ken began to struggle. He was all muscle, and twice he broke from them.
“His legs! Grab his legs! He's a young bull!”
“We'll trim you now, Freshie!”
“You potato-masher!”
“Go for his wind!”
Fighting and wrestling with all his might Ken went down under a half dozen sophomores. Then Dale was astride his chest, and others were sitting on his hands and feet.