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As soon as the upper classmen had departed, the commandant took Flint and Austin in hand, questioning them keenly and making notes of the more important answers. Back in their own rooms, Midshipman Dan Dalzell was at first overwhelmed with horror. "We're dished, Davy! We walk the plank! The super won't forgive a single man who is caught at the royal pastime of hazing!
For a moment Prescott waited outside until Greg had joined him. "It would be a howling mess if we didn't have a room together this year, old ramrod, wouldn't it?" muttered Cadet Holmes as soon as they were clear of the administration building. "Oh, that isn't one of our likely troubles," Dick answered. "We asked for a room together, and second classmen generally have what we want in that line."
Nor did the affair remain a secret for more than a moment Midshipmen returning to their own decks stepped to the wall to let the squad pass. Nor was more than a look at the two rear fourth classmen needed to enable any wondering midshipmen to guess the nature of the offense with which the remaining eleven upper classmen were to be charged. "Our Darry in that!" gasped Farley, as the squad went by.
Let the five remaining hares keep on running to the finish, if they would. For the first time in seven years the freshmen hounds, led by Captain Dick Prescott, had won. "Ki-yi-yi-yi-yi!" howled the exultant fourth classmen. "And another for Dick Prescott." "Dick Prescott has other game on his hands now," spoke up Dan Dalzell, one of the late arrivals.
They were sorting over various bits of football paraphernalia. Several of them stopped work to look up as Ben Badger slammed the door shut again. "Well, what are you making so much noise about?" demanded one of the second classmen. "You come in with a roar, and all you bring with you is -just a poor, insignificant little freshie." "Oh, but what a freshman!" thundered Frank Thompson.
They spoke in disguised voices, though as they were upper classmen they were fairly safe from recognition; the new girls were hardly acquainted among themselves and knew few of the older students by name. "Freshmen," said the tallest figure, "when we enter, rise." The eight leaped to their feet at a bound. "Do you wish to become members of the Mysterious Four?" demanded the second figure.
The gravity which had settled upon the upper classmen frightened the three smaller candidates, for Billy, Oscar and Jimmy were miniatures in size compared to Dan Jordan and Frederick Graves. "Do you think they are going to hurt us," asked Billy Dillon, turning to the two larger students.
"Some of the time, desperately so." "Yet you believe it is right to ignore a plebe, and to make him so wretched?" "The upper classmen don't make the plebe wretched. The plebe is just on probation while he's in the fourth class -that's all. The plebe is required to prove that he's a man before he's accepted as one." "It all seems dreadfully hard," contended Laura.
But for the first five minutes the hounds, who divided into three squads almost immediately, moved along at an easy jog. Every eye was alert for the first sign of a paper trail. There were six upper classmen running with the hounds. Ben Badger was somewhere ahead, hiding in order not to betray the trail.
They were supposed to keep bowing to the seniors, juniors and sophomores, but that custom had long been a dead letter at Yale. The freshmen had become too independent for such a thing. However, they stood and saw the upper classmen go past, and it seemed to poor Harry that every fellow stared at him and grinned.
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