case you make out against him."

"I suppose so," admitted Tom ruefully. "Well, I guess I'll have to let
things go by default. There's no use splitting the class in twain."

"That's the way I look at it," said Bruce eagerly, "I'm glad you see it
in that light, Tom. Save the class. But if you feel that you are
entitled to revenge------"

"I sure do!" interrupted Tom.

"Then take it privately--some other time," went on Bruce. "Football is
coming on now, and you may play on the team--so may Sam. It wouldn't
do to have bad feeling------"

"I understand," said Tom. "I'll let the thing slide for the time
being."

"And Jack and Bert?" queried Bruce.

"I'll get them to do the same thing. But there'll be a day of
reckoning for that bully all right!" and Tom clenched his fists.

"I don't blame you a bit," admitted Bruce. "Now go ahead with the
meal. My experiment is over."

"Come on," suggested Bruce when he had paid the bill. "What do you say
to a walk back to the Hall? It's a fine night, and the tramp will do
you good."

"I'm for it," agreed Tom, and they set out.

"Hark!" exclaimed Bruce a little later, pausing in the middle of the
road, which was flooded with moonlight. "What's that noise?"

"Auto coming," replied Tom. "Let's pull over here where we won't get
so much dust."

As they shifted to the side of the highway they heard the sound of
singing from the rear, mingling with the exhaust from a car.

"Elmwood Hall fellows," spoke Tom briefly, as he recognized one of the
school songs. "I wonder who they are?"

"Don't know," answered Bruce. "Joy-riders, I guess. The fellows are
getting more and more sporty every year."

"Get out!" laughed Tom. "You were as bad as any of us!"

The car came nearer. Tom and Bruce were well over to one side of the
road, but in a spirit of mischief the lad at the wheel yelled:

"Get out the way! Give us room! We're the cheese!"

"They've got all the room they're entitled to," murmured Tom, for he
and Bruce were on the extreme left of the highway, and the auto should
have been on the right.

"Look out!" yelled a voice suddenly. "Pull that wheel over, Sam!"

But it was too late. A moment later Tom felt something strike him on
the hip, and he went down in the dust.

"Put on the brakes!"

"You've hit someone, Sam!"

"Pull up!"

These cries followed the striking of Tom. There was a screech from the
brake bands and the car came to a quick stop.