ers, then went to his own room.
For an hour he enjoyed quiet. Then the bell rang announcing that the
study period was at an end. Instantly there was a commotion in the
corridors--legitimate enough; but soon it centred in the north wing and
grew more and more clamorous, more and more mirthful.

With a sigh Irving went forth to quell it. He determined that whatever
happened he would not this time lose his temper; he would try to be
persuasive and yet firm.

The noise was in Allison's room; the unfortunate Allison was again being
persecuted. Loud whoops of laughter and the sound of vigorous scuffling,
of tumbling chairs and pounding feet, came to Irving's ears. The door to
Allison's room was wide open; Irving stood and looked upon a pile of
bodies heaped on the bed, with struggling arms and legs; even in that
moment the foot of the iron bedstead collapsed, and the pile rolled off
upon the floor. There were Morrill and Carroll and Westby and Dennison
and at the bottom Allison--all looking very much rumpled, very red.

"Oh, come, fellows!" said Irving in what he intended to make an
appealing voice. "Less noise, less noise--or I shall really have to
report you--I shall really!"

But he did not speak with any confidence; his manner was hesitating,
almost deprecating. The boys grinned at him and then sauntered, rather
indifferently, out of the room.

There was no more disorder that day. But some hours later, when Irving
came up to the dormitory before supper, he heard laughter in the west
wing, where Collingwood and Westby and Scarborough had their rooms. Then
he heard Westby's voice, raised in an effeminate, pleading tone: "Less
noise, fellows, less noise--or I shall have to report you--I shall
really!"

There was more laughter at the mimicry, and Irving heard Collingwood
ask,

"Where did you get that, Wes?"

"Oh, from Kiddy--this afternoon."

"Poor Kiddy! He seemed to be having an awful time at noon over that
roast beef."

"He's such a dodo--he's more fun than a goat. I can put him up in the air
whenever I want to," boasted Westby. "He's the easiest to get rattled I
ever saw. I'm going to play horse with him in class to-morrow."

"How?" asked Collingwood; and Irving basely pricked up his ears.

"Oh, you'll see."

Irving closed the door of his room quietly. "We'll see, will we?" he
muttered, pacing back and forth. "Yes, I guess some one will see."

CHAPTER IV

THE BAITING OF A MASTER

The room in