“No, I guess not.  I’ll use some liniment when I get back.  It wasn’t your fault at all.  It was that Heller’s confounded meanness, and I’ve a good notion to------”

“You’re not going to make a row over it; are you!” asked Bruce quickly.  “You won’t go back on what you said?”

“No, but I’ll watch my chance for getting back at him.  I almost believe he did it deliberately.”

“I hardly think so, though it was mighty careless of him.  But we might as well be getting on.  It isn’t far to the Hall now.”

Tom found himself a trifle stiff and lame but he could walk all right, though with a slight limp.  Bruce bade him good-night and passed on to his own dormitory, while Tom silently made his way to the room he had picked out for himself and his chums.  There was a light burning in it, though it was after hours.

“Guess all rules are suspended for a while yet,” mused our hero as he entered.  “Well, we’ll pass the wig joke for a while.  I forgot to get one anyhow.”

“Hello, what’s up?” demanded Bert, who was getting ready for bed.

“Steam roller hit you?” inquired Jack.  “Why, your head is cut, Tom!”

“Yes, I had a little go with Sam Heller’s auto, and I got the worst of it,” and our hero told his story of the evening.

“The cad!” cried Jack.  “We’ll fix him for this.  I almost wish you hadn’t given Bruce that promise, Tom.”

“Oh, that’s all right.  There are more ways of getting back at Sam than making a class matter of it.  Let’s forget all about it.  Whew! but I’m stiff.  Any of you fellows got any liniment?”

“I have,” declared Bert, producing a bottle of highly-flavored compound.  “It’s home-made but it goes to the spot,” and Tom was soon bathing his injured hip, and telling the story of Bruce’s “experiment.”  Much against their desires his chums promised with Tom not to proceed against Sam and Nick.

Elmwood Hall began to buzz and hum with activities, not alone of lessons and lectures, but of sports and the rumors of sports.  There were also whispers of hazings to come, and the luckless Freshmen cowered in their rooms, and trembled at the sound of a knock on their portals.

“Did you see the notice?” exclaimed Jack one afternoon as he rushed into the room he shared with Tom and Bert.

“What notice?” asked Bert.  “Has that sneak Heller left?  If he has it will save trouble later.”

“No such luck,” was the answer.  “But football practice starts to-morrow on the gridiron.  Hurray!  Let’s get out our suits, and see how many holes there are in ’em.”

Books were tossed aside, and from the trunks were pulled the jackets and trousers that had seen yeoman service.

“Mine are all right,” announced Tom.

“Whew!  There’s an all-fired big rip here,” declared Jack, as he viewed his trousers.  “Anyone got a needle and thread with ’em?”