“Shall we take him too?” inquired Will of Foster.

“Yes, if there’s room.”

“I think there will be.”

“He can make his way all right, I think, but you’ll have to help me with Peter John.  Get hold of his other arm.  That’s right,” he added as Will grasped his maudlin classmate by the left arm, while Foster supported him by the right.

“Come on, Mott, if you want to ride up,” said Will sharply to the sophomore.

“That ish good o’ you, freshman,” drawled Mott.  “Broke, dead broke!  Do ash much for you some day.  You get broke some daysh, I s’pose.”

“Shut up, Mott,” said Foster savagely.

“A’-a’ right.  Just’s you say, not’s I care.”

A few in the assemblage noted the condition of the boys and laughed thoughtlessly, but neither Will nor his room-mate was in a frame of mind to respond.  Disgusted, angry, mortified beyond expression, they nevertheless assisted the boys to the seats in the taxi which Will had secured, and quickly doing as he was bidden, the driver started rapidly up the street.  Peter John had fallen heavily against Will’s shoulder and was instantly asleep, but Mott was not to be so easily disposed of.  Peering out from the window at the crowds that were moving up the street and by which the taxi was passing, he emitted three or four wild whoops and then began to sing: 

    “We’re coming, we’re coming, our brave little band,
    On the right side of temperance we always do stand;
    We don’t use tobacco, for this we do think,
    That those who do use it most always do drink.”

“Mott, if you don’t keep quiet I’ll throw you out,” exclaimed Will mortified as he perceived that the passing crowd was turning about to discover what the noisy commotion meant.

“A’-a’ right,” responded Mott in a shout that could have been heard far away.  “I’ll be as sthill as an intensified hippopotamus!  Not a sound of my voice shall awake the echoes of these purple hills.  I’ll not be the one to arouse the slumbers of this peaceful vale.”

“Driver,” interrupted Will sharply, “stop your cab.”

“No, no, Will, you’ll only make a bad matter worse.  Let’s keep on and do the best we can.  It’ll only call attention to ourselves,” said Foster hastily.

“Thatsh sho,” assented Mott noisily, swaying in his seat as he spoke.  “Keep on, driver.  Go straight up to prexy’s house; I’ve got something p’ticular to shay t’ him.  Shame, way the team sold out t’-day!  Disgrace to old Winthrop!  Have a good mind to leave the college myself an’ go to Alden; they’re men there!  They know how to stan’ up an’ take their med’cine.  Great place, Alden!  Guess they’ll be shorry here when they shee me with a great big A on my sweater!”

“Mott, keep still,” exclaimed Foster.

“Keep still yerself, freshman.  Don’t talk t’ me.”

There was nothing to be done except to endure it all in silence or put the noisy student out of the taxi.  Poor Will felt that the people they were passing looked upon all four of the occupants of the cab as if they were all in the same disgraceful condition.  His eyes blazed and his cheeks were crimson.  To him it seemed as if the cab was scarcely moving on its way to Leland Hall.  The way was interminable, the suffering almost too great to be endured.