“Don’t go!  Capture the hose!” called out Flockley, but even as he spoke he took good care to get behind another sophomore.

“Capture it yourself!” growled the youth he was using as a shield.

“Say, you’re making too much noise,” whispered another student.  “Do you want the proctor down on us?  And turn that water off before you ruin the building.  Somebody has got to pay for this, remember,” he added.

As it was an unwritten law of Brill that all hazers must pay for any damage done to college property while hazing anybody, one of the sophomores started for the lavatory where the hose had been attached to a water faucet.  But while the water still ran, Tom, aided by Dick and Sam, directed the stream on the sophomores, who were forced to retreat down the hallway.

“Now rush ’em!  Rush ’em!” yelled Flockley, when the water had ceased to run.  “Bind and gag ’em, and take ’em down to the gym.  We can finish hazing ’em there!”

“Get into the room!” whispered Dick.  “Hurry up, and barricade the door!”

“Right you are, but no more hose water for me,” answered Tom, and pulled on the rubber with all his might.  It parted about half way down the hallway, and into the room he darted with the piece in his hands.  Then Sam and Dick closed the door, locked it, and shoved a bed and the table against the barrier.  They also turned the button of the transom window so that the glass could not be swung back as before.

“Now they can’t get in unless they break in,” said Dick grimly, “and I doubt if they’ll dare to do that.”

“Say, maybe I’m not wet,” remarked Sam, surveying his dripping shirt.

“Never mind; we sent as good as we got, and more,” answered Tom with a grin.  “Let us put on our coats so we don’t catch cold.  No use of putting on dry clothing until you are sure the ball is over.”

“Tom, you’re a crack fireman,” said Dick with a smile.  “I’ll wager those sophs are mad enough to chew nails.”

“What’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander,” quoted the fun-loving Rover.  “What’s the good of living if you can’t return a compliment now and then?”

For several minutes all was silent outside.  Then came a light knock on the door.  Dick held his hand up for silence and the knock was repeated.

“Don’t answer them,” whispered the oldest Rover.

“Say, I want to talk to you fellows,” came in low tones.  “This is important.”

“Who are you?” asked Dick after a pause.

“I’m Larkspur—­Bart Larkspur, I want to tell you something.”

“Well, what is it?” demanded Tom.

“Your resistance to our class won’t do you any good.  If you’ll come out and take your medicine like men, all right; but if you resist it will go that much harder with you.”

“Who sent you—­Frank Holden?” asked Sam.

“What has Holden to do with it?” growled Larkspur.

“We know he’s the leader of your class.”