Then began a most appalling series of bumps, growls, knocks, whines, jars, gnawings, and similar disturbing noises from the closet. With loudly thumping heart Trevor sang on, rapidly, loudly, unceasingly. The woman turned and viewed him in astonishment not unmixed with alarm. Trevor’s singing was more creditable from the point of vigor and whole-souledness than on the score of harmony or rhythm. His notes were nearly all flats, which, with the fact that he never for an instant varied the time, made even the most joyous of ballads lugubrious when performed by him. He had finished In the Gloaming, Way down upon the Suwanee River, and Rule, Britannia, and was now breathlessly, heroically thundering forth Hilltonians in tones that could be, and probably were, heard in the next dormitory: “Hilltonians, Hilltonians, your crimson banner fling” (Bang! Bump! Gr-r-r-r!) “Unto the breeze, and ’neath its folds your anthem loudly sing!” (Whack! Bang! Bump!) “Hilltonians, Hilltonians, our loyalty we’ll prove Beneath the flag, the crimson flag, the bonny flag we love!” (Gr-r-r-r! Ao-o-oow! Ao-o-o-ow! Bang!) And then, with her hands over her ears and her dust-cloth trailing in defeat, the “goody” fled from the room, and the day was won! Trevor sank back exhausted. From the closet the strange sounds continued to issue. He sat up and stared fearfully at the closed door. What, he asked himself with sinking heart, what could they mean? He drew forth the key, crossed the room, unlocked the door, threw it open, and-- Out tumbled the puppy and--and--could it be? It could; it was!--one of Dick’s immaculate patent-leather pumps, torn and chewed into as sorry a looking object as he had ever seen! At sight of Trevor the puppy dropped his prize, put his small head on one side, wagged his tail proudly, and gazed up at his master as though asking “How’s that for a good job well done?” Trevor peered into the closet and groaned. The floor was a mass of _débris_; shoes and garments from the hooks were writhed together madly; and everywhere was set the puppy’s mark of approval. Trevor gathered up the garments and returned them to their hooks. A cold, blunt nose thrust itself into the way. Trevor’s hand rose and fell smartly twice, and with a yelp the puppy retreated to the hearth-rug, where he turned and barked defiance. Trevor observed him wrathfully for an instant, but his attitude of insulted dignity and his ferocious challenge to combat were so ludicrous that the boy subsided amid the wreckage and laughed until the tears came. And the puppy, bounding joyfully upon him, instantly forgiving, gurgled his pleasure and licked his hands, shoes, and face with whole-souled impartiality. And upon this scene entered Dick! Let us draw the curtain. That night, long after Dick had dropped off to slumber, he was awakened by Trevor’s urgent voice. “Dick! Dick! Wake up!”