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DAVE PORTER AND HIS RIVALS

"Hi! don't stab me!" roared one, as a sword was thrust suddenly in the direction of his stomach.

"Shut up!" murmured the victim next to him. "They won't hurt you."

"The Right Honorable Lord of the Reservoir will warm up the victims' backbones!" sang out Buster, in a hoarse bass voice. And then Shadow Hamilton, in his disguise, crept behind the nearest victim, and sent a stream of ice-water from a squirt-gun down the fellow's neck.

"Wow! wow!" yelled the student, trying to break away from the pair who held him. "Crimps! but that's cold!"

"'Tis for thy good we do this to thee!" said Shadow, solemnly, and then the next victim was treated to a similar dose. He submitted quietly, and so did the next fellow, but the fourth broke away, and started off in the direction of the school.

"Hi, come back here!" yelled several. "Don't you want to become a member?"

"I—I guess I've changed my mind!" stammered the youth. "I—er—I can't stand cold baths, nohow. If you—Hello, what's this!" And of a sudden he pitched over some dark object, and went headlong.

"Ouch!" came in another voice. "Ouch! What do you mean by kicking me in the ribs?" And a groan of pain followed.