He didn’t start out for the Inn; or at least that is what he told himself. Having an hour between classes, he decided to take a walk; and what could be more natural than turning his steps toward the village rather than toward the country? It was a partly cloudy morning, warm and damp; there had been several days of just such weather. Spring was in full command now and trees were leaved and meadows were green. Tom didn’t walk very fast. It was the time of year, and the sort of day in that time of year, when a fellow doesn’t hurry unless he has to. And Tom didn’t have to. He was just out to get the air. He might go all the way to the village or he might not. Perhaps he’d only go as far as the Inn before turning back. When he had reached the Inn he told himself that, since he still had forty-odd minutes to waste, just to prove to the others that he was right about Mr. Cooper he would stop in and inquire at the desk. Of course, way down deep somewhere Tom knew perfectly well that ever since he had got out of bed that morning he had intended to go to the Inn and discover what had become of Mr. Cooper, but it pleased him to pretend that the call was unpremeditated. “Mr. Cooper?” asked the clerk. “Yes, sir, I think you’ll find him in his room, Number 4. Do you know where it is?” “I can find it, I guess.” Tom turned toward the stairway and ascended. The Inn held only half a dozen sleeping rooms and so Number 4 was not far to seek. Outside the closed door, however, Tom hesitated. The fact that Mr. Cooper was still in town and hadn’t been around to see them for several days might very easily mean that he had tired of their society, and in that case―― But having come thus far, Tom decided to go through with the business, and knocked. There was an instant response and he went in. Mr. Cooper, wearing a rather dingy dressing robe, was sitting by an open window, and had evidently been reading. At sight of the visitor, however, he dropped his book and got to his feet; not, it seemed, without an effort. “Tom!” he exclaimed with such evident pleasure that the boy’s suspicions fled on the instant. He came forward limpingly to rest his one hand on the table and extend the other to the visitor. “Why,―― By jove, this is awfully decent of you!” The pleasure expressed by voice, look and hearty handclasp left Tom tongue-tied, vaguely embarrassed; and the feeling of embarrassment was not decreased by the sudden knowledge that he was sharing the other’s delight to a surprising extent. Mr. Cooper pulled a chair forward and went back to his own seat. “Well, how are you?” he asked. “I haven’t seen any of you for a long while. By the way, I hope you didn’t mind my calling you Tom. Surprise rather got the better of formality.” Tom smiled and shook his head. “It’s all right with me, sir. I’m fine. We all are, only we were wondering last night why――that is what had become of you. You haven’t been ill, sir?”