"I protest against this outrage!" he cried, angrily. "I want you to know
that my father--"

The horns and the shouts drowned his words. He was forced to mount the
steps to a high platform, and an instant later he found himself shooting
down a slippery incline of planed and greased boards.

The racket stopped as Diamond scooted down the slippery surface. He
dropped sprawling into the vat of icy water. Several hands caught hold
of him, yanked him up, and thrust him down again.

"Oh, somebody shall suffer for this!" gurgled the helpless freshman,
spluttering water from his mouth.

He was dragged out of the vat, and then he was forced to endure all the
hustling, and thumping, and banging which Frank Merriwell had passed
through. His protests seemed to fall on deaf ears.

It had been reported that Diamond had declared that the sophomores would
not dare to haze him, as his father would make it hot for them if they
did. The report was remembered, and he was used more severely than Frank
had been.

Hazing at Yale was said to be a thing of the past, but Frank saw it was
still carried on secretly.

"Make a speech, fresh!" shouted a voice.

"Speech! speech!" yelled the masked lads.