“Them boys is plumb crazy!” gasped old Filbury.

“Oh, I never!  We shall certainly be hurt,” wailed William Philander.  And then, as two wheels of the turnout went over a big stone, he clutched old Filbury wildly by the shoulder.  Then the carriage struck another stone, and both occupants held fast for dear life.  Three times the turnout, with its terrified occupants, circled the campus.  All the while William Philander and old Filbury were yelling wildly for their tormentors to stop.  But now, a long rope had been hitched fast to the front axle, and fully two dozen students had hold of this, fresh ones continually taking the places of those who became tired out.  As it was, Sam and Tom went around twice, and then fell out to rest.

“Say, Washer,” said a student named Lamar to his close chum, “here’s a chance to square up with old Filbury for the way he treated us.”

“What do you mean?” asked the student named Washer.

“Let us get in the lead on the rope, and run the carriage down to the river.”

“Say, that’s just the cheese!” chuckled the other.  “We’ll do it.  I think old Filbury deserves something for reporting us as he did.”

On and on went the carriage, but at the turn in the roadway it was suddenly hauled over the grass and between some bushes.

“Oh, Tom, look!  They are heading for the river!” cried Sam.

“All aboard!” yelled Washer.  “Now then, straight ahead!” He and Lamar had headed for the water.  Some of the students tried to turn to the right or the left, but others followed the leaders.  In a moment more, the carriage had reached the sloping bank of the river.  Then the crowd scattered, and a moment later the turnout, with a twist, struck the water and went over sideways, plunging old Filbury and William Philander into the stream.

CHAPTER X

 The fire at hope

“My, what a dive!”

“Everybody to the rescue!”

“Somebody get some life-preservers!”

So the cries arose as the students ran from every direction and lined the bank of the river, which, at this point, was but a few feet deep.

Old Filbury was the first to reappear, and as he stood up in water and mud that reached his waist, he shook his fist at his tormentors.

“You’ll pay for this!” he cried.  “I’ll fix yer!  I’ll have yer all sent home, you’ll see if I don’t!”

In the meantime, William Philander had also struggled to his feet.  He had lost his cap, and on the top of his head rested a mass of grass and mud.  He came out of the water spluttering and shaking himself.

“I won’t stand this!  I’ll have you all arrested!” he gasped.

“It was an accident,” came from one of the students.

“It was not!  It was done on purpose!”

“Sure! it was done a purpose!” roared old Filbury.  “I never seen such goin’s on in my life!”