Clyde led the way inside, along a narrow hall, and up a stairway. He was muttering to himself, but Barry caught fragments. “Fresh bounder” was one of them. Evidently Clyde and the brown-skinned youth downstairs were not very friendly. Clyde seemed to have regained his equanimity, however, by the time they reached the second floor. There were four doors in sight, one at the head of the stairs, one, that of the bath-room, half-way along the hall, and two more after the stair-well had been passed. That to the right was barely ajar, the other stood wide. Clyde, in advance, paused impressively on the threshold and waved a hand. “Here you are,” he proclaimed congratulatingly. “How’s this, old top?” Barry looked past him over a shoulder. There was a protracted moment of silence. Then, rather haltingly, rather faintly, Barry replied: “Why, it――it’s very nice, isn’t it?” * * * * * “You’d better get the expressman on the ’phone pretty soon,” advised Clyde, from across the front gate a few minutes later, “and have him call for your check. He will probably ask you seventy-five cents, but don’t pay more than fifty. That’s the regular price. Well, glad you like the room, Barry. Come over a little before six and I’ll take you around to Bates. Wish I could stay longer, but I promised to see a fellow at five.” “That’s all right,” said Barry. “Thanks for getting me fixed up.” Clyde nodded and went briskly off in the direction of school, a rather large, fairly tall lad, well set up, very carefully and a trifle expensively dressed. He was bareheaded, and his dark hair glistened in the sunlight, every lock carefully plastered into place. Clyde Allen was a good-looking fellow, and he wasn’t entirely unconscious of the fact. Barry thought him extremely handsome and didn’t blame him in the least for being――well, just a bit vain. He watched until Clyde passed from view, and then went back to the porch. Jones had disappeared during their visit to the room. Barry wasn’t sorry, for he had already concluded that he wasn’t going to like Jones very well. Barry found it difficult actually to dislike any one, but there were degrees of liking. He took Jones’s place on the edge of the porch and, stretching his knickered legs before him, thrust his hands into his pockets and surveyed the world and the future.