"I guess they do it in spite of the rules," said d.i.c.k. "Well, the best way is to take what's coming, and bear it as well as you can. If you don't it will be unpleasant for you. I don't believe it will be very bad."

"Are you going to let 'em haze you?" asked Paul Drew.

"Sure," answered d.i.c.k.

"Then I guess I will, too."

"Well, I s'pose it's got to be," said little 'Gene with a sigh. "I hope they don't toss us in a blanket, though."

"If they do, just lie still, and you'll come down easy," advised d.i.c.k.

"It'll soon be over."

That night, in their room, d.i.c.k and Paul heard the sound of footsteps along the corridor. Then came smothered cries, and strange sounds in the apartments adjoining.

"They're coming," whispered Paul.

d.i.c.k nodded grimly.

A moment later there came a soft knock on their portal.

"Well?" asked d.i.c.k, though he knew who it was.

"Open, in the name of the Ancient and Honorable Order of the Mystic Pig," came the demand in a whisper.

d.i.c.k opened the door, and in rushed several of the older cadets, led by Ray Dutton.

"Oh, we've drawn a millionaire!" Dutton cried, in sneering tones. "Well, take the other chap first, fellows. Lively, now, we've got a heap of 'em to initiate!"

Several lads seized Paul, who submitted with as good grace as possible.

CHAPTER VII

d.i.c.k THINKS HE HAS A CLUE

"What's it to be, Ray, the blanket, outside, or the ordeal of the pitcher?" asked one of the cadets holding Paul.

"The pitcher, I guess," answered Dutton. "The blanket's getting too tame, and we have so many to look after that we can't take 'em outside.

Any water in the jug, Beeby?"

"Full," replied a fat lad, taking up one of the two pitchers in the room.

"Up with him!" commanded Dutton, and several cadets seized Paul in an instant. Before he knew what was happening they had stood him on his head, two of them holding each of his rather long legs upright.

"Hold open his trouser legs," said Dutton. "I'll do the pouring."

He had the pitcher full of water, and, as his fellow hazers made a sort of funnel of the two legs of the victim's trousers, Ray poured the contents of the water pitcher down them. The fluid spurted out at the unlucky new student's waist and collar, and ran in a little stream over the floor. Paul struggled but could not escape.

"Sop that up, fellows!" cried Dutton. "We don't want it to ruin the ceilings below. Use the bed clothes."

The other cadets, who were not holding Paul, grabbed the sheets and spreads from the neatly made beds, and piled them in the little pond of water on the floor.

"Hand me the other pitcher, Naylor," commanded the leader.

"Better save it for----" and Naylor glanced at d.i.c.k, who was standing quietly in a corner, under guard of several cadets, awaiting his turn.

"We'll not need it for him," replied Dutton. "Give it here."

Some one handed him the other pitcher full of water, and the fluid in that, a moment later, went gurgling down the inside of Paul's clothes, spurting out as had the other.

"You're initiated into the Ancient and Honorable Order of the Mystic Pig," announced Dutton, making a sign to his comrades to let Paul regain his feet. "Do you solemnly promise to be most respectful to your superiors, and not to partake of ham and eggs or any form of pork until after Christmas?"

"You'd better promise," said one of the cadets to Paul, who hesitated.

"Oh, I promise all right," he said, with a rueful smile as he looked down at his soaked garments, and surveyed the confusion in the room.

There was not a dry article of bed clothing left.

"Now for the other one!" cried Beeby, making a grab for d.i.c.k.

The young millionaire was ready to submit to any form of hazing that might be inflicted, but, to his surprise Dutton said:

"Never mind him. We'll let him go."

"Why he's a freshman," objected several of the cadets, evidently thinking Dutton imagined d.i.c.k to be immune.

"I know it, but he's in a different cla.s.s," went on the leader with a covert sneer. "He might buy up the police authorities and have us arrested for having a little fun. We'll let him alone. We're only after common mortals."

d.i.c.k flushed.

"You're mistaken," he said as calmly as he could. "If hazing is in order I'm ready to take my share. I a.s.sure you I won't squeal. I'm not that kind."

It hurt him, to think that he should be taken for a "squealer." He, d.i.c.k Hamilton, who had done his own share of hazing in the academy at home.

"No, thank you. It's too risky monkeying with millionaires," said Dutton. "Come on, fellows."

The band of hazing cadets filed out of d.i.c.k's room, bent on subjecting other students to their harmless pranks. As they left, d.i.c.k heard one of them say:

"Aw, Dutton, why didn't we try the rope and window game on him? It would have been sport. He looks like an all-right sort."

"He isn't in our cla.s.s," replied the leader of the hazers. "He thinks his money can get him anything he wants, but he'll find out he's mistaken. It's a shame the faculty allowed him to come here, where only the best families are represented."

d.i.c.k heard it all plainly. He realized how he had been misjudged, but he resolved to live down the wrong opinion the other students seemed to have formed of him. Or perhaps they merely followed Dutton's leadership.

And so d.i.c.k was not hazed, though he was the only freshman in all the academy who escaped the ordeal, and, though many lads would gladly have dispensed with the ceremony, d.i.c.k Hamilton felt as if he would have parted with some of his fortune to have been included in the unfortunate cla.s.s. For, had he been, it would have meant that he was considered as a future chum and comrade of the uppercla.s.smen. But he had been left severely alone.