At a cry from Dick and Max the freshmen commenced to gather on the campus, and Tom quickly handed around the sections of hose.  Other first-year lads procured sticks, boxing gloves, and other things, and looked around for somebody to lead them.

“Come on!” cried Dick, and he sprang to the front, with Tom on one side and Max on the other.  The German-American boy had a big squirtgun filled with water, a gun used by the gardener for spraying the bushes.

The sophomores had captured four more freshmen, and marched all of the crowd down to the river front, when the band under Dick, sixteen strong, appeared.  The latter came on yelling like Indians, and flourishing their sections of hose, and sticks and other things.

“Let ’em go!  Let ’em go!” was the rallying cry, and then whack! whack! whack! down came the rubber clubs and the sticks on the backs of the second-year students.

“Fight ’em off!” came from the sophomores.

“Chase ’em away!” yelled Dudd Flockley; but hardly had he spoken when Max discharged the squirtgun, and the water took Flockley in the eye, causing him to yell with fright and retreat.  Then Max turned the gun on Larkspur, soaking the latter pretty thoroughly.

Attacked from the rear, the sophomores had to let go their holds on their victims, and as soon as they were released Sam, Songbird and the others ran to the right and the left and joined the force under Dick.

All told, the freshmen now numbered twenty-three, while the sophomores could count up but fourteen.  The second-year students were hemmed in and gradually forced nearer and nearer to the bank of the river.

“Let up! let up!” yelled several in alarm.  “Don’t knock us overboard!”

“It’s nothing but mud here!  I don’t want my new suit spoiled!” cried one.

“I can’t swim!” added another.

“I’ve got an idea,” whispered Tom to the others near him.  “Shove ’em in the mud and water, or else make ’em promise not to take part in the necktie rush.”

“That’s the talk!” replied Dick.  He caught hold of the sophomore in front of him.  “All shove, fellows!” And the second-year students were gradually forced to the very edge of the river at a point where there was a little water and a good deal of dark, sticky mud.  Of course they fought desperately to push the freshmen back, but they were outnumbered, as already told.

“Now, then, every fellow who will promise not to take part in the necktie rush Monday will be allowed to go free,” said Dick loudly.  “The others must take their ducking in the water—­and mud.”

“Let me go!” roared Dudd Flockley.  “I’m not going to have this suit ruined!”

“I don’t want to get these patent leathers wet!” cried Jerry Koswell, who had on a new pair of shiny shoes.

“Then promise!” cried Sam, and “Promise!” “Promise!” came from many others.

Without delay several of the sophomores promised, and they were allowed to depart.  Then the others began to show fight, and three managed to escape, among them being Dudd Flockley.  The others were forced into the water and mud up to their knees.  Then they cried out in alarm, and while two finally escaped, the others also promised to keep out of the necktie contest.