suggest for your consideration the idea that gentlemen don't remain
where they're not wanted."

"Freshie!" yelled one of the eight contemptuously.

"Toss him in a blanket," advised another.

"We don't mind your presence as much as your bad manners," Dick
remarked coldly. "Will you kindly take your leave?"

"No!" shouted three or four of their tormentors derisively.

Dave, his fists still clenched, bounded forward. One chap, in
an especially brilliant blazer, reached out to box Darry on the
ear.

That blow never landed, but the tormentor did---on the earth.

_"Eight rainbow hoboes,
Looking for life's leaven,
One bumped his eyelash,
And then there were but seven!"_

improvised Danny Grin joyously.

"Clean out this camp!" yelled one of the others.

"Come on and do it, then!" yelled Tom Reade, losing all patience
at last.