Three hours afterwards the three little freshmen walked zig-zaggedly, arm in arm, up the long hill toward the University Campus.

Shorts had a shaky grasp of one arm of Dillon, and Spuddy the other. On through the cold night they dragged him, until they reached the broad white carriage way that led to the fraternity house. Here Swipes stumbled, loosening himself from the grasp of his companions.

"Well, ju--just look at him," growled Spuddy in a disgusted tone; "he ought to freeze stiff. Look how his le--legs wab--wabble! They lo--look like four--four--"

"Shut up, Spud," cried Shorts. "He's only got--got two legs. What the mat--matter with you?... You're as drunk as he is. Don't let him drop on those stones!"

"I ain't drunk," retorted Preston. "What's the mat--matter with you, yourself? I bet I can ge--get into--that--that fraternity without any of the fe--fellows seeing me!"

"I don't believe you will," returned Shorts in a more sober manner. "Look there, Spud, the whole house is alight. I say--Swipes--Swipes, it's after midnight, and the fraternity is all lighted up."

"I--I--I don't care if it is," grunted Swipes in a low, thick voice. "I--I want to go to bed. Tha--that's what I want to do."

He sank into a stupor again but the boys dragged him to his feet.

"Do you want Jordan and Graves to see you like this, Swipes?" demanded Shorts stopping in the center of the carriage drive. "If you don't--you take a mighty quick sneak up the back stairs, and--"