THE BANG-UPS
Jerry shot a glance at the lad who seemed deliberately trying to
antagonize him. A hot reply was on the lips of the tall lad, but he
held it back.
“No, I’ll give him another chance,” thought Jerry. “There’s no use in
stirring up a row just because he wants to be nasty.”
Bob and Ned heard what Frank had said, but no one else appeared to have
caught the words, and Jerry’s two chums wondered why he did not retort
to the unnecessary and unfair remark. But Jerry explained later.
“Now then, young gentlemen, try the horse,” ordered the director. “It
will be good practice for you in football and baseball. Lively now!”
The “horse” is a leather-covered affair, resembling a horse in that it
has four legs but not otherwise. It is a sort of padded sawhorse more
than anything else.
By means of a handle, fixed in about the place where the saddle would
be on a real horse, the athlete jumps on, over and astride the horse.
This the boys in the Boxwood Hall gymnasium proceeded to do, lining up
and taking turns.
In this Frank showed considerable ability, while Jerry was not so good
at it, making, in fact, a rather awkward appearance. And when it came
Bob’s turn there was a real disaster, though a harmless one.
[Illustration: FRANK SHOWED CONSIDERABLE ABILITY.]
The stout lad made a rush for the horse, but missed getting hold of the
handle. He shot over the horse, slid on the smooth leather padding and
went down on the floor with a bang. He looked about him with such a
comical look on his face that the instructor and the other boys burst
into laughter.
“Well, Baker, you’re not training for clown-work in a circus,” remarked
the instructor. “Try it again.”
Bob joined in the laugh, and when he took his place in the line for
another attempt he heard Frank say sneeringly:
“Well, there are some things the fresh motor boys can’t do, it seems.”
“Oh, cut it out,” advised Bob with a forced grin. “We don’t claim to be
anything like what you seem to think we are.”
“Don’t get into a row,” advised Jerry in a low voice.
“If he insults me I--I’ll punch him!” declared Ned in a whisper.
“No you won’t,” contradicted Jerry.
“If he wants to--let him try it!” said Frank, quickly. “That’s a game I
like to play.”
“Silence over there!” called the director, sharply, while Ned and Frank
glared at one another.
Ned made no awkward breaks, so there was no excuse for Frank’s making
any of his slurring remarks, and the remainder of the gymnasium
practice went off without further incident.
“Say, I wonder what’s got into him?” asked Bob, as he and his chums
were proceeding toward the dormitory after the practice. “He seems just
to hate us--he and those fellows he goes with. I wonder why?”
“He hasn’t any real excuse,” said Jerry, “but I imagine it is just as
he says. Frank and his chums are afraid we’ll try to show off, because
Professor Snodgrass told them about our various adventures. I never
thought they’d be held against us.”
“Nor I,” added Ned. “But this Watson is going to make trouble, I can
see that. And the sooner the better.”
“Why?” asked Bob.
“To have it over with. We’ll have to fight him.”
“Oh, I guess not,” said Jerry. “We’ll try and not roil him.”
“But why should we go out of our way to take insults, just because
this fellow doesn’t like us?” asked Ned.
“Remember we’re freshmen,” said Bob.
“That’s all right. The other sophs don’t pick on us the way he and his
bunch do. I’m not going to stand it!”
“Go slow,” advised Jerry.
For a week or more after this there were no open clashes between Frank
and his cronies and our three chums. On occasions, as they passed in
the hall, Frank, Bart and Bill would laugh sneeringly or pass some
slurring remark, but that was the extent of it. On the other hand
Jerry, Bob and Ned made friends among the other lads in the various
classes.
And right here the point might be emphasized once more that at Boxwood
Hall there was not the sharp line drawn against freshmen in athletics
and other matters that there is in some of the other colleges.
It is true that the freshmen were hazed and not allowed to appear on
certain parts of the campus sacred to the sophomores, juniors and
seniors. And there were some strictly class societies in which the
membership was limited. But there were also secret organizations which
were made up indiscriminately of members of all four classes.
In athletics, as has been said, there was also no tight line drawn. In
big colleges, of course, freshmen are not eligible for the varsity,
but at Boxwood Hall, where there was a limited number of students, in
order to increase the available supply of players the freshmen were
drawn upon. Thus it was that the nine and eleven had freshmen on, as
well as sophomores, juniors and seniors. Nor were the freshmen obliged
to refrain from residence in dormitories where their “betters” were
housed, though there were some fraternity houses sacred to certain
classes alone.
Football practice went on, and the more our three friends watched it,
the more they wished they had made themselves fit to be candidates for
the eleven. But it was too late now.
“I’m going to get into it next season though!” declared Jerry, while
Ned and Bob echoed his words. “It’s great!”
This was on one of the occasions when Boxwood Hall played an old-time
rival and won in a hard-fought battle. Another time she was not so
successful, and lost to a college she had always beaten.
“But if we win from the military academy, I won’t have any regrets,”
declared Ted Newton. “That’s the bunch I want to beat!”
“You’re going to get yours all right to-night,” was the word passed to
Ned, Bob and Jerry one afternoon, following a lecture on zoology.
“Our what?” asked Ned.
“Hazing,” was the answer.
“Well, we’ll take all that’s coming,” said Bob. “We’ve got to expect
it, I suppose.”
“And you may get more than you expect,” the informer went on.
It was rather a rough hazing, for our heroes were hauled out of their
rooms by a crowd of the sophomores, headed by Frank Watson, and made
to do all sorts of ridiculous things, one of which was to stand in the
public square in Fordham and eat cream puffs and chocolate eclaires
with their hands tied behind their backs.
Then, in this state, with smeared faces, they were obliged to appear at
a moving picture show, marching up and down the aisles while the lights
were turned up.
As a climax they were ducked in the campus fountain basin and then
pelted with more or less over-ripe fruits and vegetables as they were
allowed to return to their rooms.
“Whew!” gasped Bob, “we are some sights.”
They were indeed, their suits being ruined. But they had taken the
precaution to wear old ones, thanks to the tip.
“Well, I’m glad it’s over,” remarked Jerry.
“Same here,” added Ned. “And when our boat comes we’ll have some good
times to make up for this hazing.”
The _Neboje_ arrived and was launched on Lake Carmona. The possession
of the motor boat brought new friends to our heroes, and they took many
of their college chums on short cruises, once remaining out all night
because of engine trouble when they reached the upper end of the lake.
Proctor Thornton had it in mind to punish severely the luckless ones,
but when Jerry explained matters, and when Professor Snodgrass had put
in a good word for the boys they were excused, but warned not to take
such chances again.
“Say, fellows, don’t you want to join the Bang-Ups?” asked George Fitch
one day of Ned, Bob and Jerry. This was when George had been taken out
for a motor boat ride.
“The Bang-Ups?” asked Ned. “Is that something good to eat?”
“It’s a secret fraternal society,” answered George, looking carefully
about to make sure he was not overheard. “It’s the most exclusive in
the college, but freshmen are eligible when voted in. I’ll propose you
if you like.”
“Sure, we’d like it!” declared Bob.
“There’s one thing, though,” went on George. “The initiation is a
pretty stiff one. Lots of the fellows get hurt--not badly, of course,
but some.”
“You can’t scare us that way,” laughed Jerry. “We’ve been in some
pretty tight places ourselves.”
“We’ll take a chance,” added Bob.
“Does Frank Watson and his crowd belong?” Ned demanded.
“Oh, yes,” was the reply.
“They’ll never vote to let us in.”
“It’ll take more than their votes to keep you out, though, as a rule,
the elections have been unanimous. But it takes ten black ballots to
turn a candidate down, and at best Frank and his crowd number nine.”
At the next meeting of the Bang-Ups the names of our friends were
proposed. And Frank Watson, Bart Haley, Bill Hamilton and several
others opposed them.
But George Fitch, Chet Randell, Lem Ferguson and, best of all, Ted
Newton, the football captain, championed the cause of our friends
to such advantage that they were elected, only seven votes against
them--not the necessary number.
“Of course, I’d like to have had it unanimous,” said George, in telling
Jerry about the matter afterward. “But don’t let that worry you, and
perhaps Frank will change his tactics toward you.”
“I don’t care much whether he does or not,” Jerry remarked. “I wish
there weren’t any feeling against us, especially as I know there is no
cause for it, but the Bang-Ups is worth getting into, even if we didn’t
make it unanimously.”
“Glad you think so,” remarked George. “And now comes the initiation.”