“Son,” said The Duke sternly, “you take my advice and don’t make any foolish remarks. I don’t care much whether they drown you in a basin. Rather wish they would. Beat it, Cotton!” And Cotton “beat it,” only pausing long enough to cast a scowl at The Duke. The latter watched him go and, when the door was closed behind him, turned with a comical look of despair to Gerald. “Say, honest, Gerald, what would you do if you had a thing like that wished on you?” “You don’t mean he’s rooming with you?” exclaimed Gerald. “’Tis true, O Solomon! My chum got away from me this year and that’s what I drew. When I first saw it I thought to myself, it’s no use, Duke, you can’t do it! It’s too much! Send in your resignation and pack your little hand-bag. But then I got to thinking that if I didn’t suffer someone else would have to, and my self-sacrificing nature prevailed. So that’s how. Say, you might introduce me to your friend, if you think he can stand it, Gerald.” “I beg pardon! I thought you fellows knew each other. Burtis, this is The Duke of Wellington; Duke, this is Mr. Kendall Burtis.” “Ah, he of the nimble toe? I’m glad to know you, Burtis. I saw you kick that goal last Fall. I need not say that I am one of your humble but sincere admirers.” Kendall smiled shyly as they shook hands. “Where does this Cotton chap come from?” asked Gerald as they seated themselves again. “Somehow he――he doesn’t quite look as though he belonged, Duke.” “He comes from some place in ‘Maryland, my Maryland.’ He’s been at school somewhere down there, I think. Anyhow, he’s always comparing Yardley with his last place to the detriment of Yardley. That’s what started the trouble to-night. Lin Johnson and Billy Richards and two or three others happened in and in about twenty seconds Cotton was telling us what was wrong with the school. I don’t know where this other place he’s been at is located, but to hear him talk about it you’d think it was just outside of Paradise! Well, the fellows stood it for a while, looking sort of pained and surprised, you know, and then Lin got started and began to josh him. He doesn’t take a joke very well, and so――oh, I don’t know, but pretty soon they decided they’d find out whether he was absorbent cotton or just plain batting. And so they tried to get him to put his head in a bowl of water. Of course, I couldn’t interfere with the pleasure of my guests, and of course I couldn’t take a hand at ragging my roommate, so I was forced to maintain a difficult neutrality. I rather wished they’d drown him, but he got away and bolted down the hall. His name, by the way, is Charles, Charles Cotton.” “That sounds familiar,” mused Gerald.