“That’s it, Tom.  Let it drop, is my advice.”

“But why?  I can’t see why, Bruce.”

“Because it will make a heap of trouble in the school, that’s why.  Look here, Tom.  You know you and Sam, to say nothing of Nick, haven’t been on good terms from the start; have you?”

“No, but it was Sam’s fault.  I had no quarrel with him.”

“I know that.  I’m not saying but what you’re in the right.  But it’s the effect of the thing I’m looking at.  Tom, do you want to see two factions in the Sophomore class?  Two bunches of fellows, one striving against the other?  Do you?”

“No, I don’t know as I do.  But once we get rid of Sam, Nick will take himself off, too, and then everything will be fine.”

“I’m not so sure of that.  You might drive Sam out of Elmwood, but I doubt it.  And look here, Tom.  You know there’s going to be a big Freshman class this year.”

“So I heard, but what has that got to do with it?”

“Lots.  You know, without my telling you, that the Sophs and Freshies are mortal enemies.  There’ll be hazing to do—­whisper it of course—­and with the Sophomore class divided against itself, where are you second-year chaps going to be when the Freshies cut up—­let me ask you that?”

“How will the class be divided?” inquired Jack.

“Why, if you make this fight against Sam you can’t expect his friends to hob-nob with you when it comes to hectoring the Freshies.”

“Sam hasn’t any friends!” burst out Bert.

“Oh, don’t you fool yourself,” said Bruce quickly.  “Sam has money, and no fellow with cash need be without friends—­or at least fellows who call themselves such.  Then, too, he’s got a big car I understand, and that will go a great ways toward making friends for him.  Besides, there’s Nick to count on.  His friends will be Sam’s, and Nick has quite a few, as he isn’t such a bully as Sam is.  Nick’s a Junior now, and the Juniors will side with the Freshmen.

“Now I don’t want to be a croaker, or a death’s head at this gay party, but you mark my words, if you carry this fight against Sam to the limit it will mean a heap of trouble for the school.  And, more than that, the Sophomore class will be torn apart.

“Don’t do it!” pleaded Bruce, arising in his earnestness, and addressing Tom’s chums.  “Let it drop, or, if you feel that you have to get even, do it some other way.  I know it’s galling to sit still and suffer—­but think of the school.  You owe something to Elmwood Hall!  Besides, I think you’d have your own troubles in getting unanimous class action against Sam.”

“How so?” asked Tom quickly.  “As soon as I tell the fellows how mean he acted they’ll vote to send him to Coventry at once, I’ll wager.  Not a man will speak to him.”

“Don’t be so sure,” said Bruce quietly.  “Tom, I’m going to try a little experiment, if you’ll allow me.  I guess all you fellows know that I’d stick up for my rights as hard as any one; don’t you?”