Winning His "W" Part 5

"Haven't I as good a right as anybody to make a motion?" demanded Peter John hotly.

"You have as much right, but you don't want always to take all your rights, you know."

"Why not? I'll stand up for my rights every time. Now, I don't believe a word of what you said this afternoon."

"You're complimentary; but you're under no obligations to believe me,"

laughed Walker.

"I don't mean just that. What I mean is that I'd like to see the soph.o.m.ore who'd tell me what I could wear or what I couldn't; or where I could go and where I couldn't. He hasn't anything to say about that."

"He thinks he has," suggested Walker quietly.

"I don't care what he thinks. I know my rights, and I intend to stand up for them too!"

"Is that why you were running up the railroad track the day when you came to Winthrop?" demanded Will Phelps.

"Never you mind about that!" retorted Peter John in nowise abashed.

"That was when I didn't know as much as I do now."

"Three or four days will do great things for a fellow," remarked Walker dryly.

"Yes, sir, that's so. You're right about that," acknowledged Peter John graciously. "Say, fellows, what are you going to do about these Greek letter societies?" he inquired abruptly, turning to his two cla.s.smates as he spoke.

Both Will Phelps and Foster Bennett glanced uneasily at Walker, but the junior only smiled and made no response. It was apparent though that the topic Peter John had broached was one upon which all three had been conferring.

"We haven't done anything as yet," said Foster.

"Neither have I," acknowledged Peter John. "I thought I'd take my time before I decided which one I'd join. I suppose I'll have to write home to pa, but he won't know as much about it as I do."

"We live and learn," said Walker as he rose to depart. "I'll see you to-night?" he inquired of Will and Foster as he stopped for a moment in the doorway. Will glanced questioningly at his room-mate and then said: "Thank you, Walker. We'll be very glad to come."

"Where you going? What did he want?" demanded Peter John when Walker was gone.

"It was something personal," said Foster. "Walker thinks you'll have to walk the chalk line, Peter John, or you'll have trouble with the sophs."

"He does, does he? Well, I'll show him. I'd like to know what right they've got to tell me what to do. I'll do as I please! My chum--"

It was instantly plain to the boys now the cause for this sudden and strange change in Peter John's att.i.tude. He was relying upon the prowess of Hawley to protect him now and apparently was confident that he would not be molested since he roomed with the young giant whose name already was known throughout the college and from whom such great things were expected for the football team.

"Don't depend too much upon Hawley! He can't be everywhere, remember,"

said Foster warningly.

"I'll show 'em, if they come near me!" retorted Peter John as he departed.

For several days the college life went on quietly and the boys were becoming somewhat accustomed to their new surroundings. There had been a "sweater rush" between the two lower cla.s.ses, in which Hawley had been entrusted with the precious sweater, and, surrounded by his cla.s.smates, successfully defended it against the onslaught of the soph.o.m.ores. The struggle had been severe but in good part, and the worst results had been some torn clothing and bruised faces. The freshmen wore upon their arms a strip of white cloth to enable them to distinguish their own comrades, and great was their elation when after the time limit had expired, it was discovered that the coveted sweater was unharmed. The strength of Hawley had been as the strength of ten and his praises were in every mouth.

Into this struggle Will Phelps had thrown himself with all his might, and when he joyfully emerged from the struggling ma.s.s of humanity gathered about Hawley his rejoicing was great and his cheers for the cla.s.s were among the loudest.

On the border of the crowd he had perceived Peter John, but his cla.s.smate displayed no evidence of the recent struggle and Will was about to question him, when Peter John himself said, "Come over to my room to-night, Will."

"All right." Will Phelps had promised readily, and then the matter departed from his mind as he rushed about among his cla.s.smates.

That evening he suddenly glanced up from the book he was studying and said to his room-mate: "Foster, I agreed to go over to Peter John's room to-night. Want to go?"

"Can't say that I'm pining for it. What does he want?"

"I don't know. He seemed to be very much in earnest about it, though."

"Is it much nearer from here to his room than it is from his room to ours? If he wanted to see you so much, why didn't he come over here?"

"That isn't Peter John's way," laughed Will. "I promised to go, so I think I'll run over for a minute. I'll be back pretty soon."

"If you need me let me know," called Foster as Will departed, and he then at once resumed his task.

Will Phelps ran across the campus to Leland Hall, and as he turned in at the dimly lighted hall the contrast between his own surroundings and those in which he now found himself was for the moment almost painful.

The stone step at the entrance had been worn away by the pa.s.sing of boyish feet over it for more than a century. For a moment there flashed into his mind the thought of the eager lives that there had been trained and long since had pa.s.sed over into the land beyond. Will himself was the fourth generation in direct descent in his own family to enter Winthrop, and as he now pa.s.sed slowly up the rough, narrow, and worn stairway, he found himself thinking of his own father and grandfather and great-grandfather, all of whom doubtless had many a time been in the very same hallway where he himself then was. Even then from far down the street came the sounds of song and laughter of some pa.s.sing body of students and the faint sound he could hear was for the moment almost like the echo of long past days. The very hall seemed to echo also with the footfalls of students who had long since completed their course and pa.s.sed on. He was surrounded by a cloud of witnesses.

Suddenly from the floor above him came the sound of noisy shouts and shrieks of laughter. The vision of other days and other men instantly departed, and the full force of the appeal of the present swept over him. Bounding up the steps, two at a time, he swiftly came to the third floor and then stopped abruptly as the shouts were redoubled and evidently came from Peter John Schenck's room.

For a moment Will hesitated, almost tempted to turn back, but his feeling of curiosity was strong and resolutely he advanced and rapped upon the door. This was quickly opened and Will stepped inside the room.

The door had instantly been closed and bolted behind him, but Will was hardly aware of that so interested was he in the sight upon which he gazed in the room which was filled with a noisy group of students.

CHAPTER V

UNSOUGHT ATTENTIONS

One glance about him had been sufficient to convince Will Phelps that his cla.s.smates were suffering from a visit of the soph.o.m.ores, a dozen or more of whom he recognized as being in the room. He looked quickly behind him at the door, but this already had been closed and three of the stalwart soph.o.m.ores were standing with their backs against it, the others being stationed at different points about the room. In the center stood Mott, a l.u.s.ty soph.o.m.ore whom he had frequently seen and whose general bearing he had intensely disliked, for his face bore the unmistakable traces of dissipation and his bearing was that of a rowdy.

The fact that Mott had secured a high position among the college athletes had in a measure made amends for his low tendencies of life in the eyes of his thoughtless mates, but though he was by nature somewhat of a leader still his personal popularity was low, and it was only his physical prowess that gave him any standing.

Seated upon one end of his study table was Hawley, his face beaming with good nature and smiling broadly as he faced the a.s.sembly in the room. In one corner Peter John was standing, his back against the wall and in his 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 coa.r.s.e 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.

"You didn't have to ask us," retorted Mott. "We came because you need us and for the good of the college. Come, freshman, do what I tell you."