"Cut with it!" ordered Kerr. "We can't hold 'em much longer, and we don't want 'em to get it now. Skip, Langridge. Take some interference with you."
As if it was a football game, several lads made a sort of flying wedge in front of Langridge, with him inside the apex, and, thus protected, he bored through the mass of sophomores.
"After him!" yelled several second-years, who had become aware of the trick. "He's got the clapper!"
Most of the lads rushed away from the chapel, only those remaining who were holding the rope taut. Some of these even started away.
"Hold on!" yelled the Snail. "I'm up here yet! I want to get down!"
"Don't leave Sam up there!" cried Kerr. "Hold the rope, fellows, until he shins down."
Several freshmen ran back.
"I'll help hold," volunteered Tom, though there was a temptation to join the fighting throng that surrounded Langridge and his defenders.
The Snail slid to the ground, the rope was pulled from the cross, and the lads, coiling it up as they ran, hastened to the aid of their freshmen comrades.
