hands was one of the heavy wooden chairs which he was grasping by the
rounds. Even in the somewhat dim light Will could see that the great
splotches of red on Peter John's face appeared to be larger and of a
more fiery tint than usual, and his coarse red hair fairly stood on
end. There was an expression of mingled terror and wild, almost
ungovernable, rage on his face, and Will knew what that portended at
that time. A brief silence had followed Will's entrance, and Mott had
turned to some of his comrades and a meaning smile appeared for a moment
on his face as he perceived who the new-comer was. In a moment, however,
the tense stillness of the room returned, and Mott, turning to Peter
John, said:

"Now, then, freshman, are you ready?"

"I'll brain the first man that comes near me! Don't you lay a finger on
me or I'll break your head! This is my room and I'll have you understand
that you can't play any of your dirty tricks on me!"

Peter John's voice rose almost to a shriek, and lifting the chair he
gazed menacingly at Mott, almost as if he was minded to rush upon him.
Hawley laughed as his room-mate spoke, but Will's face became pale and
he could almost hear the beating of his own heart, so intensely excited
was he. He understood Peter John's disposition better than any of those
who were in the room, and his fear of what might follow was great.

"We'll give you one more chance," said Mott slowly.

"I don't want any more chances. I want you to get out of this room! I
didn't ask you to come! You've no right here!" shouted Peter John.