“Mumps is under my protection.”

“What you mean is, that he is one of your toadies.”

“I ain’t anybody’s toady,” came from John Fenwick, but his face grew as red as a beet.

“Yes, you are, and you’re a sneak in the bargain,” said Jack.

“I’ve a good mind to give you a crack with this,” burst out Dan Baxter, as he swung his baseball bat aloft.

“Here, don’t you hit Jack Ruddy with that!” came a voice from the rear, and on the instant another cadet caught hold of the bat.

“Thanks, Andy,” came from Jack. “But I don’t think he’d dare.”

“So you’re going to take part in this too, eh?” said Dan Baxter, turning to the newcomer.

“Oh, I only want to see fair play,” answered Andy Snow, a tall, slender boy, who was a good deal of an acrobat, and at the head of the gymnasium class.

“Andy, were you up in your dormitory a while ago?” questioned Jack.

“Yes.”

“Did you get hit with a lump of mud?”

“Yes. I’d like to spot the rascal that threw it.”

“I was hit myself. That’s why I came down after Mumps.”

“So you’re the guilty party, eh?” cried Andy Snow, stepping up to John Fenwick.

“Don’t!” screamed the lank boy, and turning, he ran off at top speed. “Come on, Dan!” he called out, when at a safe distance. “Don’t have anything more to do with ’em!”

By this time a crowd of a dozen was beginning to collect. Dan Baxter gazed around uneasily.

“We’ll settle this some other time,” he muttered, and edged away.

“Better settle it now,” retorted Jack.

“I—I’ve got something else to do,” faltered Dan Baxter, and then he turned and followed his toady.

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