when a lad stepped to his side—a lad who was a stranger to the others. Where he had come from they did not know.
"Let me try," he said pleasantly. "I used to be pretty fair at throwing stones. Your arm is tired, I guess."
"Who are you?" demanded Langridge suspiciously. "Are you a soph? How'd you get here?"
"I'm not a soph," replied the other good-naturedly, in a pause that followed a second hurling back of the attackers, who withdrew to wait for reinforcements. "I'm a freshman. My name is Parsons—Tom Parsons. I'm a little late getting here this term. In fact, I just arrived to-night. I was on my way from the depot to the college, when, as I crossed the campus, I heard what was up. As I'm a freshman, I decided to join in. Hope it's all right."
"I don't know you,"' said Langridge hesitatingly, fearing this was a trick of the enemy. "You may be a soph"
"No, I assure you I'm not," said Tom Parsons. "Wait a minute. Is there any one here named Sidney Henderson?"
"That's my name," replied Sid.
"Then you ought to know me. I'm to room with you, I believe. At least, I have a letter from Dr. Albertus Churchill to that effect. He's quartered me on you."
