Quickly he darted in pursuit, feeling rather than perceiving that his own classmates were speedily left far behind him.  He was exerting himself to the utmost and ran as though the prize he was seeking was the greatest of coveted honors.  As he sped over the grass his respect for his rival increased greatly, for whatever Mott’s defects might be, there certainly was in him no lack of ability to run.  The distance between the runners was steadily maintained, and indeed, it seemed to Will as if it was being increased.  On and on he ran, and the college buildings were now near-by, and if the fleeing sophomore should once gain an entrance in one of them then Will knew all further pursuit would be useless.

Suddenly the form of Mott disappeared in the dim light and Will Phelps stopped abruptly and peered keenly before him.  But when his classmates joined him and all four cautiously advanced, several minutes elapsed before a solution for the mystery was found.

CHAPTER VII

SPLINTER’S QUESTIONS

Directly before them the boys could see a long ditch or trench which had been dug the entire length of the back campus and of whose existence they had not been aware.  Doubtless Mott had known of it, however, and in his flight had made for it with all the speed he could command, either hoping to lead his pursuers into difficulty or trusting that it in some way would provide a means of escape for himself.

Whatever his plan may have been it succeeded admirably, for when the four freshmen stood together on the border of the trench not a sign of the presence of Mott could be discovered.  In which direction he had fled they were also ignorant.  It was evident however that he was gone and after a careful search had confirmed the conviction in their minds that the sophomore had escaped, Will Phelps said: 

“We’ll have to give it up, fellows.  He’s gone.”

“We can go up to his room and get him,” suggested Peter John, who was becoming exceedingly bold under the confidence which the presence of his friends gave him.

“We can, but we won’t,” said Hawley bluntly.

“Why not?” demanded Schenck.

“It’s one thing to defend yourself, but it’s another to fly straight into the arms of the sophs.  I don’t wonder that some of the freshmen get into trouble, they’re so fresh.  If the sophs didn’t take it out of them I think our own class itself would.”

“That’s so,” responded Peter John cordially, “I’ve thought of it myself lots of times.  Now there’s Merrivale—­he rooms next to me, you know—­he ought to be shown that he’s too fresh.”

“What’s he done?” inquired Foster.

“Why he came into my room last week and borrowed fifty cents, and he hasn’t paid it back yet, either!”

“Oh, well, just remember what Mott said, Peter John.”

“What did he say?”

“He said every freshman would be paid back with interest.”