“You don’t get this cane back, freshie,” answered one of the second-year students.

“You must give it to me!  Why, Miss Margaret DeVoe Marlow gave me that cane last summer, when we were at Newport.  I want—­”

“No more cane for you, freshie!” was the cry.  And then, to Tubbs’ untold horror, one of the sophomores placed the cane across his knee as if to break it in two.

“Don’t you break that cane!  Don’t you dare to do it!” cried the dude, and then he commenced to struggle violently, for the cane was very dear to him, being a birthday gift from one of his warmest lady friends.  In the scuffle which followed William Philander had his collar and necktie torn from him and his coat was split up the back.

“Say, this is going too far!” cried Dick, and then he raised his voice:  “Freshmen to the rescue!”

“This is none of your affair,” growled the sophomore who had led the attack on Tubbs.

“Don’t break that cane!” cried Tom.  “If you do somebody will get a bloody nose!”

“We’ll do as we please!” cried several second-year students.

Then Tom and Sam rushed for the cane and got hold of it.  Two sophomores held fast on the other side, and a regular tug-of-war ensued.  In the meantime other sophomores were making life miserable for Tubbs.  They took his hat and used it for a football, and threw the dude on his back and piled on top of him until he thought his ribs were going to be stove in.

“What’s the row?” The call came from Stanley, and he and Max appeared, followed by Songbird and several others.

“Attack on Tubblets!” called Tom.  “To the rescue, everybody!  Save the cane!”

And then a crowd of at least twelve students surrounded the cane, hauling and twisting it this way and that.  It was a determined but good-natured crowd.  The sophomores felt they must break the offending stick into bits, while the freshmen considered it the part of honor to save the same bit of wood from destruction.

At last Sam saw his chance, and with a quick movement he leaped directly on the shoulders of one of the second-year students.  As the fellow went down he caught hold of two of his chums to save himself.  This loosened the hold on the cane, and in a twinkling Sam, aided by Stanley, had it in his possession.  He leaped down and started on a run for the dormitory.

“After him!  Get the cane!”

“Don’t let him get away with it!”

“Nail him, somebody!”

So the cries rang out.  Several sophomores tried to head the youngest Rover off, but he was too quick for them.  He dodged to the right and the left, and hurled one boy flat.  Then he ran around a corner of a building, mounted the steps to a side door, and disappeared from view.

“Hurrah for Sam Rover!”

“Say, that was as good as a run on the football field!”

“That’s the time the sophs got left.”

“Hi!  Where’s my cane?” howled William Philander, gazing around in perplexity as soon as the second-year students let go of him.