“I suppose,” mused Harry as he followed Gerald back to Oxford, “that Kirk is just as much excited about his old golf match as you and I will be about the race two weeks from now. Funny, isn’t it?” “Funny?” repeated Gerald as he ran up the steps. “Why?” “Oh, funny to think it matters who wins a golf match!” “It’s evident you’re not a golfer,” laughed Gerald. “I’ll bet that if George’s outfit gets licked this afternoon he will be like a bear with a sore head! There’s The Duke in the booth.” The long-distance booth was halfway down the main corridor of Oxford, and, although it was rather dim, they could descry a figure behind the glass. It was dinner hour and Oxford was otherwise quite deserted. Gerald walked down the corridor, Harry sauntering behind. “Hi, Duke! Kirk says never mind about New York!” shouted Gerald. The Duke looked very angry and red-faced behind the window as Gerald drew near, and was gesticulating wildly. He was also saying things, but what they were Gerald was still too far away to hear. “The Duke’s having a fit, Harry,” he announced interestedly. “Come and watch him.” “... Door ... lemme out....” “What’s he saying?” asked Harry grinning as he realized The Duke’s dilemma. Gerald shook his head. “Can’t understand him. Can you? Seems quite worked up about something, though.” “Lemme out! Don’t be a fool! Can’t you see this blamed door’s stuck?” And The Duke mouthed and grimaced behind the glass. Gerald and Harry, maintaining a respectful distance, viewed him gravely. “Can’t get his number, I suppose,” said Harry sympathetically. “Maybe he’s got hold of a live wire somehow. Anything wrong, Duke?” “You open this door, Gerald! I’m suffocating in here!” “He wants you to open the door,” explained Harry brightly. “But do you think you’d better? He looks a bit dangerous, doesn’t he?” “Y-yes,” responded Gerald doubtfully. “Perhaps we’d better have help in case he gets――――” But there was such a rattling of the door, such an assault on the side of the booth that Gerald’s words were drowned. “I do hope he’s hung up the receiver so that the operator can’t hear him,” said Harry. “It might give the school a bad name.” Gerald, at last taking pity on the prisoner, turned the door knob and The Duke stumbled out, angry of countenance and incoherent of speech. “Wish you’d get yourself locked up in that blamed thing,” he sputtered, “and see how you like it! It’s ninety-eight in there, and you can’t breathe! Why didn’t you open that door before? Wanted to be smart, I suppose?” “What’s the matter with the door?” asked Harry. “It’s crazy, I guess. You can’t open it from inside to save your life. It ought to be fixed.” “Oh, I guess you didn’t go at it right,” said Harry soothingly. “Let me try it.”