This time, when he had vanished behind his own tent flap, Mr.
Briggs didn't indulge in any grimaces or chuckles. Instead, he
made haste to get off his dripping garments and to get out others,
after he had enjoyed a rub down.

"Serves me right!" muttered the plebe. "I had been getting along
first rate, with nobody bothering me. Then I had to get that
b.j. streak on this afternoon. Now, I suppose I'm a marked plebe!"




CHAPTER III

GREG DEBATES BETWEEN GIRLS AND MISCHIEF


"Considering that you are the noble class president, who had just
made us feel so ashamed over our thoughts of hazing," muttered
Mr. Furlong, "I must say, Prescott, that I don't look upon you
as any tyro at hazing."

"This case was very different," Dick answered quietly. "This
plebe, Briggs, was caught in a very rank piece of b.j.-ety. We
couldn't let his offence go by. We hazed him for a straight cause,
not merely for being a plebe. What I object to is annoying plebes
simply because they are green men."

"But what about that soiree you mentioned to the plebe?" demanded