the pesky thing out! Just stand still until I find a match or you'll
break your shins." He groped his way toward the mantel. Now was the
sophomores' opportunity, and they seized it. Neil had done his best to
imitate Livingston's careful and rather precise manner of speaking, and
the invaders, few of whom even knew the president of the freshman
class by sight, never for an instant doubted that they had captured him.

[Illustration]

Neil found himself suddenly seized by strong arms. With a cry of
simulated surprise, he struggled feebly.

"Here, what's up, fellows?" he remonstrated. "Look out, I tell you!
_Don't do that_!"

Then he was borne, protesting and kicking, feet foremost, through the
door, out into the hall and down the stairs. When the front door was
thrown open Neil was alarmed to find that although almost dark it was
still light enough for his captors to discover their mistake. Hiding his
face as best he could, he lifted his voice in loud cries for help. It
worked like a charm. Instantly a carriage robe was thrown over his head
and he was hurried down the steps, across the muddy sidewalk, and into
the waiting vehicle which had been driven up before the house. Once
inside, Neil was safe from detection, for the hack, the shades drawn up
before the windows, was as dark as Egypt. Neil sighed his relief,
muttered a few perfunctory threats from behind the uncomfortable folds
of the ill-smelling robe, and, with one fellow sitting on his chest and
three others holding his legs, felt the carriage start.

Despite the enveloping folds about his head he could hear quite well;