"Well?" asked Langridge.
"It's all right."
The sophomores had started another song. They were about through the second verse when there came a series of sudden yells from the pavilion. There were cries of pain, and Langridge, in the midst of the freshmen, called out:
"That's it! That's the stuff! Rah! rah! sophs! This time we break you up. Cheer, boys, cheer!"
The freshmen set up an exultant cry as it became evident that, in some way, the gleeful singing of the second-year lads had been stopped. There was an excited movement in the pavilion, yet the waiting freshmen could not see that anything had taken place.
Then came a cry—two exclamations—louder and more anguished than any that had preceded. There was a yell—a protesting yell—and then some one in the pavilion shouted:
"Cut it, fellows! The hand railing is charged with electricity!"
"Three cheers for the freshmen!"' called Langridge, and the response came spontaneously, for his mates knew that they had triumphed over the sophomores.
Suddenly above the confused cheering and shouting there came another cry.
"Help me, fellows! Oh, help—help!" screamed some one inside the pavilion.
