had attached themselves to Hart, and who apparently were glad to be seen with him, lived in University Hall. If there was any trouble or mischief afoot in the freshman class, Matt, the proctor, had learned by short experience to put their names down first on his list of suspects. Their motto was happily expressed by Mr. Golatly when he said: "What is the use of living, if you are not in it?"
But all this brings us to a night when the class of 189– was only three weeks old. There was dead silence down the corridors at University Hall, when suddenly it was broken by the sound of a low thick voice:
"Ged oop! Ged oop! in dere."
Then followed some incoherent words, and there was a rapping on freshman Congreve's door. It was Steve, the old German nightwatchman, ally of all the freshmen in University Hall.
Hearing the racket, Congreve started up in bed. "Heavens! What's happened?" he said to himself, throwing off the blankets.
"Ged oop quivickly," came in mumbling accents from the hallway. "Vat is de matter
