part of him."

The sophomore was waiting, a sulky frown on his face. A few feet
away Ben Badger, a grim look on his usually good-humored face,
leaned against a tree, his arms folded.

Even had he wanted to get away from this, Ripley couldn't have
done it. For a sophomore to find any excuse for getting out of
a fight with a freshman would bring down upon the soph all the
wrath and disgust of the disgraced third class.

"Come on, mucker! Take off your sweater and get ready to take
your real medicine!" snarled Fred, harshly.

But Dick Prescott, young as he was, was much too wise to allow
himself to be betrayed into anger. Instead, he halted a few feet
away, looking with a significant smile at his enemy.

"As I understand it," replied Prescott, "the festivities that
are soon to commence are to decide which is the mucker---which
will go down to the ground to eat his fill of dirt."

Badger, Thompson and Butler took upon themselves the direction
of the coming "affair."

"See here, Ted, you look after Ripley's interests," proposed Badger.

"It's a mean job. I'd sooner have the other side of the bet,"
grumbled Ted Butler, in an undertone.