“Who you vos alretty”? he spluttered, staring in open-mouthed amazement at the party.  “You vos all look like der Oldt Boy, ain’t it!  I guess I go me back to der camp kvick!” and he started to run.

Hans did not get far, for a foot send him sprawling, and by the time he was again on his feet four masked cadets had him by the hands and arms, so that he could not get away.  He started to yell when of a sudden somebody threw a handful of dry flour into his wide open mouth.

“Wuog!” he gasped.  “Wuog!  Do-you—­wants-to choke me alretty!” And then he started to sneeze, as some of the flour entered his nose.

There was a moment of silence and then one of the masked figures advanced slowly.

“Hans Mueller, are you prepared to meet your doom”? was the question put, in a deep bass voice.

“Doom?  Vot’s dot”? asked the German boy, slightly frightened.

“Are you prepared to die?”

“Die?  Not by a jugful I ain’t.  You let me go!”

“Are you prepared to become a full-fledged member of the Order of Black Skulls.”

“Not much, I ton’t belong to noddings,” gasped Hans.

“Then you must prepare to meet your fate.  Away with him, fellows, to his doom!”

Before Hans could resist he was caught up once again.  One of the cadets had brought with him a large blanket and into this the German youth was thrown.  Then the others caught the blanket around the edges.

“Stop!” roared Hans, and tried to climb out of the blanket.  But before he could manage it, the thing was given a toss and up he went, high into the air.

“Oh!  Mine cracious!” he gasped and came down with a crash, to go up again an instant later.  Then up and down went the boy, turning over and over, until he was all but dazed.

“Stop!  Murder!  Fire!  Robbers!” he roared.  “Let me owid, kvick!  I vos turning outsides in alretty!  Oh, stop, von’t you, blease!”

“Will you join the Order of Black Skulls”? he was asked again.

“Yah, yah! Anydings, so long as you lets me town kvick!”

“And you will not breathe a word about what has taken place here”?

“I say me noddings, upon my honor, ain’t it!”

“Then let him go, fellows,” and a moment later Hans was lowered.

“Now you are one of us,” said another student, and handed him a mask, skull-cap and pair of horns, the latter made of stuffed black cloth.  “Do you promise to help us”?

“Anydings vot you vonts.”

“Then come with us, and don’t dare to open your mouth.”

CHAPTER XVIII

HAZERS AT WORK

William Philander Tubbs was dreaming of a fashionable dance he had once enjoyed when he suddenly found himself bound and gagged and being carried he knew not where.

“This is awful!” he thought.  “What in the world does it mean?”