Frank Merriwell at Yale - Part 23
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Part 23

"Excuse me," said Rattleton. "I didn't know you wanted to howl first."

At chapel Harry felt that the eyes of everybody were upon him. He kept one hand up to his face as much as possible, but he saw the soph.o.m.ores smiling covertly and winking among themselves. He longed to get even; that was his one burning ambition and desire.

When the service was over the freshmen stood and bowed to the faculty as they pa.s.sed out. They were supposed to keep bowing to the seniors, juniors and soph.o.m.ores, but that custom had long been a dead letter at Yale. The freshmen had become too independent for such a thing.

However, they stood and saw the upper cla.s.smen go past, and it seemed to poor Harry that every fellow stared at him and grinned. The sophs added to his misery and anger by winking at him, and Tad Horner ventured to go through a swift pantomime of taking a scalp.

"Oh, I am liable to have yours yet," thought Harry.

On their way back to their rooms Harry and Frank were greeted by all sorts of calls and persiflage from the soph.o.m.ores, who had gathered in knots to watch them pa.s.s.

This sort of chaffing gave Rattleton "that tired feeling," as he expressed it, and by the time they reached their room he was in a desperate mood.

"I'll get even!" he vowed, fiercely. "I'll do it."

"Go ahead--you can do it," laughed Frank. "You can do anybody."

Then Harry flung a book at him, which Frank skillfully caught and returned with the utmost politeness.

At breakfast Rattleton was chafed by the freshmen, and he boiled more than ever.

"Somebody has my coat, vest, hat, shirt and undershirt," he said as he thought the affair over. "I had to go home in a linen duster which I got down to Billy's last night. I don't care so much for the clothes I lost, but I'd like to know who has 'em. I'd sue him!"

But after breakfast an expressman appeared with a bundle for Rattleton, and in the bundle were the missing articles.

The soph.o.m.ores were jubilant, and they taunted the freshmen. They said the fate that had befallen Rattleton was simply a warning. It was nothing beside what might happen.

For the time the freshmen were forced to remain silent, but they felt that the soph.o.m.ores had not evened up matters by any means. And the affair would not be dropped.

During the afternoon of that day it rained for at least two hours, and it did not clear up and let the sun out, so there was plenty of dirt and mud at nightfall.

Then it was that Rattleton some way found out that a number of soph.o.m.ores who dined at a club on York Street were going to attend a party that evening. It was to be a swell affair on Temple Street, and the sophs were certain to wear their dress suits.

"They'll din for dresser--I mean dress for dinner," spluttered Harry as he was telling Frank. "It's certain they'll go directly from dinner to the party."

"Well, what has worked its way into your head?"

"A scheme."

"Give it to us."

"We'll be ready for 'em when they come from dinner, and we'll give 'em a rush. They're not likely to be in any condition to attend a party after we are through with them. What do you say, old man? What do you think of it?"

"We are likely to get enough of rushing in the annual rush, but I'm with you if you want to carry this job through."

"All right, then, we'll do it. We'll give those sophs a warm time. I have been grouchy all day, but I begin to feel better now."

So Frank and Harry communicated the plan to their friends, and a party gathered in their room immediately after supper.

Dismal Jones was out as a scout, and he had agreed to let them know when the soph.o.m.ores left their club. They were inclined to take much more time in dining than the freshmen.

Pretty soon Jones came racing up the stairs and burst into the room.

"Come on, fellows!" he cried. "The sophs are leaving their club, and there's lots of 'em wearing dress suits. We'll have a picnic with 'em!"

Dismal seldom got excited, but now he was quite aroused.

The freshmen caught up their caps and hurried downstairs. They were soon on the street, and they hastened to meet their natural enemies.

The soph.o.m.ores had formed by twos, with Browning and Emery in advance.

It was true that many of them were in dress suits, and they were not a little disturbed when they saw the solid body of freshmen coming swiftly to meet them.

To pa.s.s on the right the soph.o.m.ores were ent.i.tled to the inside of the sidewalk, and although they would have given much to avoid the encounter, they formed solidly and prepared to defend their rights.

The freshmen also formed in a compact ma.s.s, and came on with a rush, keeping hard up against the wall.

"Turn to the right! Turn to the right!"

The soph.o.m.ores uttered the cry as they hugged the wall on the inside.

"Sweep 'em off! Sweep 'em off!"

That was the cry that came from the determined freshmen.

"Hold on! hold on!" ordered Browning. "There is a law for this!"

"Then you will have to produce officers to enforce it," laughed Frank Merriwell.

"But there is a regular time for rushing."

"This is not a regular rush, so we don't mind."

"But you fellows have no right to do it!"

"Is that so?" was the derisive retort. "Hear the sophs squeal fellows!

Oh, my! but this is funny!"

"Stop a minute and we will argue this matter, freshies," invited Browning, who was thoroughly disgusted over the prospect.

Then the whole crowd of freshmen roared with laughter.

"Hear the baby cry!" they shouted. "He is begging! Ha! ha! ha!"

Browning's face was crimson with anger and confusion.

"You are an insolent lot of young ruffians!" he snapped, "and Merriwell is the biggest ruffian of you all!"

"Back it up! back it up!"