Emery had a quick temper and a strong arm.  He grappled with Harry, lifted him off his feet and tried to throw him, but the freshman came down on his feet like a cat.

A second later Emery was astonished to feel his own feet flung into the air, and he could not help falling, but he clung to his antagonist and they went down together.

Over and over they rolled, each striving to get on top.  They were soon off the sidewalk and into the street.

Emery was furious, for he felt that his dress suit was the same as ruined, and he uttered some very savage language.

“That’s right,” chuckled Harry.  “Cuss a little—­it may help you.”

It seemed to, for Emery finally succeeded in getting astride Rattleton and holding him down for a few moments.  He was soon pulled off by another freshman, and the merry war went on.

Little Tad Horner was right in the hottest scrimmage, and he proved formidable for the freshmen, despite his size.  He had a way of darting under them and tripping them up, then getting away before he could be grappled.

Dismal Jones was quoting Scripture and doing his best to make himself felt by the sophomores.  Jones was a character.  His parents were “shouting Methodists,” and they intended him for the ministry.  He had a long, sad face, but he was full of deviltry, and it was very seldom that the freshmen entered into any affair against the sophomores that he was not on hand and interested.

“Lay on and spare not!” he cried, after the style of a camp-meeting revivalist.  “If the wicked entice thee, consent thou not.  Get behind me, Satan!  Brothers, oh, my dear brothers! it makes my heart sad and weary to see so much wicked strife and contention.”

Punch Swallows, the red-headed soph, found himself pitted against Lucy Little.  Despite his name, Little was not a “sissy,” and he was no mean antagonist, as Punch found out.  It was nip and tuck between them, and neither seemed to have the best of it.

Some of the sophs were able to down their men, but they were so outnumbered by the freshmen that they could not hold an advantage very long.

The struggle between Browning and Merriwell waxed furious.  The big sophomore exerted himself to his utmost, and he found that it was necessary that he should do so if he had any thought of holding his own with the freshman leader.

Frank knew all the time that he was pitted against a hard man, and so his muscles were strained and his nerves were taut.

“Now, fresh, we’ll see what we can do for you,” Browning said, as he made a mighty effort to land Frank on his back.

“You are very kind,” laughed Merriwell.  “I will not forget your kindness.”

“You are not the only one,” panted Browning.  “There are others.”

“Are you going to the party this evening?” chuckled Frank.

“Not till I have done you up, my friend with the swelled head.”