even if he is bigger ’n me—and I’m going to get Dodge. I did n’t say anything when they made me wash my face in the toilet bowl, but, by God! I’m going to get ’em for it.”
Three weeks later he made good this threat. He was a clever boxer, and he succeeded in separating each of the malefactors from the fighting mob. He would have been completely nonplussed if he could have heard Adams and Dodge talking in their room after the rush.
“Who gave you the black eye?” Adams asked Dodge.
“That freshman Carver,” he replied, touching the eye gingerly. “Who gave you that welt on the chin?”
“Carver! And, say, he beat Hi Cooper to a pulp. He’s a mess.”
They looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Lord,” said Dodge, “I’m going to pick my freshmen next time. Who’d take a kid with a smile like his to be a scrapper? He’s got the nic¬ est smile in college. Why, he looks meek as a lamb.”
“You never can tell,” remarked Adams, rubbing his chin ruefully.
Dodge was examining his eye in the mirror. “No, you never can tell. . . . Damn it, I’m going to have to get a beefsteak or something for this lamp of mine.”
