Suddenly from the floor above him came the sound of noisy shouts and shrieks of laughter.  The vision of other days and other men instantly departed, and the full force of the appeal of the present swept over him.  Bounding up the steps, two at a time, he swiftly came to the third floor and then stopped abruptly as the shouts were redoubled and evidently came from Peter John Schenck’s room.

For a moment Will hesitated, almost tempted to turn back, but his feeling of curiosity was strong and resolutely he advanced and rapped upon the door.  This was quickly opened and Will stepped inside the room.  The door had instantly been closed and bolted behind him, but Will was hardly aware of that so interested was he in the sight upon which he gazed in the room which was filled with a noisy group of students.

CHAPTER V

UNSOUGHT ATTENTIONS

One glance about him had been sufficient to convince Will Phelps that his classmates were suffering from a visit of the sophomores, a dozen or more of whom he recognized as being in the room.  He looked quickly behind him at the door, but this already had been closed and three of the stalwart sophomores were standing with their backs against it, the others being stationed at different points about the room.  In the center stood Mott, a lusty sophomore whom he had frequently seen and whose general bearing he had intensely disliked, for his face bore the unmistakable traces of dissipation and his bearing was that of a rowdy.  The fact that Mott had secured a high position among the college athletes had in a measure made amends for his low tendencies of life in the eyes of his thoughtless mates, but though he was by nature somewhat of a leader still his personal popularity was low, and it was only his physical prowess that gave him any standing.

Seated upon one end of his study table was Hawley, his face beaming with good nature and smiling broadly as he faced the assembly in the room.  In one corner Peter John was standing, his back against the wall and in his hands was one of the heavy wooden chairs which he was grasping by the rounds.  Even in the somewhat dim light Will could see that the great splotches of red on Peter John’s face appeared to be larger and of a more fiery tint than usual, and his coarse red hair fairly stood on end.  There was an expression of mingled terror and wild, almost ungovernable, rage on his face, and Will knew what that portended at that time.  A brief silence had followed Will’s entrance, and Mott had turned to some of his comrades and a meaning smile appeared for a moment on his face as he perceived who the new-comer was.  In a moment, however, the tense stillness of the room returned, and Mott, turning to Peter John, said: 

“Now, then, freshman, are you ready?”

“I’ll brain the first man that comes near me!  Don’t you lay a finger on me or I’ll break your head!  This is my room and I’ll have you understand that you can’t play any of your dirty tricks on me!”