CHAPTER VII

  TOM HOLDS HIS OWN

  It seemed for a moment as if the first-year boys would be quickly shovedaside and their places taken by the sophomores, for so heavy was theimpact that the outer and second lines of defense were broken throughand the attackers were in the midst of the defenders.

  "Throw 'em back! throw 'em back!" yelled Phil Clinton. "Tackle low!"

  "Think you're playing football?" panted Tom, for some of his mates hadbeen pushed against him and he almost lost his grip on Phil's arm.

  "It's like a scrimmage," replied Phil. "That's the stuff, boys!" headded as the lines of defense formed again.

  The freshmen by a fierce effort succeeded in blocking the advance oftheir enemies, and those who had penetrated part way into the circleswere hurled back. But the battle had only just begun.

  Once more came the rush of sophomores, the members of the class callingto each other encouragingly. There were more of them than there were offreshmen, but the latter had the advantage of a firm base of support,for the lads nearest the pole clung to that and those adjoining themlocked their arms or legs about those of their comrades, thus forming acompact mass.

  "Pick 'em off one by one!" yelled Gladdus, one of the leading sophomores."Bore a way in there, Fenmore, and some of you fellows. We ought to getthem away."

  "Hold fast! Hold fast, everybody!" cried Tom, for the joy of battle wasupon him and his heart exulted in the struggle that was going on abouthim, in the pressure of bodies against his, the labored breathing, thepanting, the fierce grips that were broken only to be made anew.

  The sophomores now began other tactics. Several of them would grab afreshman in the outer circle. They would pluck him from the restraininggrasp of his companions, and then, when a hole was thus made, othersophomores would bore their way in to repeat the process. So quickly wasthis done and so strong was the peculiar attack that, almost before thefreshmen knew it, Gladdus and Fenmore, two of the most aggressiveattackers, had reached the circle that was about the pole. The twoboldly grabbed at Tom, at the same time calling out:

  "Sophs this way! Sophs this way! Here's meat for us!"

  Tom suddenly felt himself being pulled away from the pole. The grips ofPhil Clinton on one side and Sid Henderson on the other were slippingfrom his arms.

  "Hold fast! Don't let them take you!" cried Phil.

  "I won't!" gasped Tom.

  He thought of a trick he had acquired in wrestling. Quickly arching hisback like a bow, he suddenly straightened it with a snap, and the holdsof Gladdus and Fenmore were broken. They were hurled back and then otherfreshmen took them up bodily, thrusting them beyond the outer line ofdefense.

  Then the whole body of sophomores quickly threw themselves against thefreshmen, as if to force them away from the pole by weight of numbers.They nearly succeeded, and Tom and his fellow defenders of the flagstaff thought their arms would be pulled out of the sockets. But, as ifit was a second down in a fierce football game, the freshmen held theiropponents and thrust the wave of sophomores back.

  So it went on, the attack becoming fiercer until, when the timekeepersannounced that there were but two more minutes left in which to hold orgain the pole, the second-year men seemed fairly to overwhelm theothers.

  "Tear 'em up! tear 'em up!" pleaded Gladdus.

  "Hold, boys, hold!" begged Langridge. And hold they did, for when timewas called the defenders were found with their arms still locked aboutthe flag staff.

  "We win, fellows!" yelled Tom, capering about, with his hands graspingthose of Sid and Phil.

  Then followed an impromptu war dance, while the vanquished sophomoresfiled away in the darkness, the exultant freshmen sending cheer aftercheer out on the air.

  "Here's where we wear ribbons on our hats!" cried Ford Fenton. "Now, I'dlike to see any soph make me take it off."

  He pulled from his pocket a band and fixed it to a new hat he had boughtto replace the slashed one.

  "You came prepared, didn't you?" asked Holly Cross. "Here, let me giveyou an imitation of a soph," and he held out the decorated hat, thoughthe gaily decorated band could not be seen in the darkness, andpretending to regard it with horror, minced along like some grotesquedancer on the stage.

  "Good! good!" cried his fellows.

  "That's the stuff, Holly, old chap!" remarked Phil. "We'll have you inthe next play."

  "Why don't you fellows run the colors up on the flag pole?" proposed alad who had stood watching the fun.

  "That's it, Jerry Jackson!" exclaimed Sid. "Good idea."

  "I'm not Jerry, I'm Joe," replied the Jersey twin.

  "I'll have to take your word for it," went on Sid. "Say, you two oughtto wear labels. We're always getting you mixed up."

  Amid much laughter and joking a long streamer of yellow and maroon wasfastened to the halyards and run up to the truck. Langridge had thecolors with him, anticipating a victory.

  "We ought to have a parade now," suggested Fenton. "My uncle says----"

  "If you say uncle again inside of a week, we'll duck you!" cried Sid ashe jostled Ford to one side. "We know him by heart by this time."

  "I don't believe he ever had an uncle," declared Kerr. "But come on,fellows, let's have a parade."

  The idea took at once, and the victorious freshmen formed in line andmarched about the college buildings, singing songs and yelling joyfully,for it had been a good, fair, clean fight, and they had won.

  "Let's go to Haddonfield and get out hat bands," proposed Langridge."We'll all be wearing them in the morning."

  As discipline was rather relaxed during the first two weeks of the termand as it was the custom for the victorious class to celebrate in someway the idea was adopted and the joyous lads made for the town, whichat their advent at once awakened from a sort of evening nap. They wentto a dealer who made a specialty of college goods and soon all weredecked out in the gay hat bands, all save a few who, like Fenton, hadalready provided themselves with the articles.

  "I suppose you aren't used to such things as this down on the farm, areyou?" asked Langridge of Tom sneeringly as they were about ready todepart for the college. "Corn husking bees and quilting parties are morein your line."

  "Wa'al, thet's what they be!" retorted Tom quickly, imitating the nasaldrawl of the typical farmer. "We folks down Northville way is somepumpkins when it comes t' huskin' corn. Was you ever there, sonny?"

  His manner was so patronizing and the effect of his words and assumedmannerisms so odd that the lads about him burst out laughing, much tothe annoyance of Langridge.

  "Going to the post-office for the mail and meeting the pretty countrygirls was about the height of your enjoyment, wasn't it?" persisted therich youth, who seemed bound to pick a quarrel with Tom.

  "Wa'al, now you're talkin'," came the quick answer in the same drawl.

  There was something rather strange about Langridge. His eyes seemedvery bright and his cheeks were flushed. He evidently took Tom'sacquiescence as an indication that the country lad was willing to havefun poked at him.

  "I suppose you got lots of letters from the pretty country lasses,enclosing locks of their red hair," sneered Langridge.

  "You bet I did," exclaimed Tom, still imitating a farmer's peculiarities,"but I want to tell ye suthin', an' when you come out Northville way,mebby you'll remember it." Then, suddenly becoming serious and witha change in his manner, he added: "I also used to get letters fromgentlemen, but I don't believe you could write me one!" There was a snapin his words.

  "What--what's that?" cried Langridge, taking a step toward Tom.

  "You heard what I said," was the retort.

  "That's the time you got yours all right, Langridge," exclaimed PhilClinton. "You can't tell by the looks of a haystack how far a cow canjump, you know."

  Langridge fairly glared at Tom. He seemed to want to make some reply,but the words stuck in his throat.

  "I'll--I'll get----" he stammered, and then, turning on his heel, helinked his arm in that of Kerr and the t
wo started off down the street.

  "You held you own that time, Tom," said Sid as a little later theyfollowed.

  "Yes, I don't mind a joke, but he went a little too far. My people livein the country, and I'm proud of it, and proud of all my friends inNorthville. But come on, let's get back to our room. I've got somestudying to do."

 
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