Having been thus easily rid of their unpleasant enemies, the plebes set out in high feather for home.  
"I must get back in time to dress for dinner, don't ye know," said the dude.
 
"I'm 'bliged to yew fellows," put in the farmer, getting up from his seat with a lazy groan. "My name's Methusalem Zebediah Chilvers, and I'll shake hands all raound."
 
"And mine's Chauncey Van Rensallear Mount-Bonsall, don't ye know," said the other, putting on his immaculate white gloves. "Bah Jove! I've lost a cuff button, quarreling with those deuced yearlings!"
 
Chauncey's cuff button was found at last—he vowed he wouldn't go to dinner without it—and then the party started in earnest, the two strangers giving a graphic and characteristic account of the scrimmage we have just witnessed.
 
Mark in the meantime was doing some thinking, won[Pg 157]dering if here were not two more eligible members of the "alliance." While he was debating this question the "dude" approached him privately and began thus:
 
"I want to say something to you," he said. "Dye know, I can't see why we plebes suffer so, bah Jove! I was thinking aw, don't ye know, if some of us would band together we could—aw—chastise the deuced cadets and——"
 
Master Chauncey Van Rensallear Mount-Bonsall got no further, for Mark came out then and told the secret. In a few moments the alliance had added Number Six and Number Seven.
 
"And now, b'gee, I say let's organize, b'gee!" cried Dewey.
 
The sound of a drum from barracks put a stop to further business then, but before supper there was a spare half hour, and during that time the seven conspirators met in Mark's room to "organize." Indian was there, too, now calm and meek again.
 
"In the first place," said Mark, "we want to elect a leader."
 
"Wow!" cried Texas, "what fo'? Ain't you leader?"
 
"I say, Mark, b'gee!" cried Dewey.
 
[Pg 158]"Mark," said the Parson, solemnly.
 
"Mark," murmured Indian from the corner, and "Mark" chimed in the two newcomers.
 
"It seems to be unanimous," said Mark, "so I guess I'll have to let it go. But I'm sure I can't see why you think of me. What shall we call ourselves?"
 
That brought a lengthy discussion, which space does not permit of being given. The Loyal Legion, the Sons of the Revolution, the Independents, the Cincinnati—suggested by the classic Parson—and also the Trojan Heroes—from the same source—all these were suggested and rejected. Then somebody moved the Seven Rebels, which was outvoted as not expressive enough, but which led to another one that took the whole crowd with a rush. It came from an unexpected source—the unobtrusive Indian in the corner.
 
"Let's name it 'The Seven Devils'!" said he.
 
And the Seven Devils they were from that day until the time when the cl............