You snarl just exactly like some of the curs he keeps there."
"Banbury, cranberry, bow, wow, wow!" derided Ritchie. "Good for you, Upton—you hit the nail on the head that time."
"Upton—Robert Upton!" bellowed the old janitor, Scroggins, appearing on the campus just then.
"That's me," acknowledged Bob.
"President Elliott wishes to see you in the library," said Scroggins.
"Aha!" snorted Banbury. "Called down already! Look out, Bob-up, you're in for a quake in the shoes."
"No; the president is going to consult him on how to raise squashes," sneered a crony of Banbury.
"Say, Frank," whispered Bob, quite in a quake, "I'm going to get it for something. What can it be?"
"Don't worry," replied Frank. "Face the music. I fancy you won't be hit very hard."
Bob went away with the old, worried look on his face. He came back radiant, and seemed to walk on air, and he never even heard the jeers of the Banbury crowd as he passed them. He made a beckoning motion to Frank, and the two strolled away together.
