“Well, you certainly pulled it off in grand style! And I want to tell you that if you’d thrown your old way you’d never have caught him. He had an awful lead from first and ran like a rabbit. This our floor?” “Yes,” replied Mr. Hall, “unless you and Craig want to stay there and ride up and down and talk baseball.” “This man, Sam,” warned Mr. York, “is an awful hypocrite. He pretends he doesn’t care a thing about the game, but some time I’ll tell you a few facts about him; like the time he dented in the immaculate silk topper of a perfectly respectable old gentleman at the White Sox park in Chicago.” “Well, I bought him a new one,” laughed Mr. Hall, as he unlocked his door. “Enter, gentlemen.” “Seems to me,” said Mr. York, pausing to sniff suspiciously, “I smell smoke. Don’t you?” “Smoke? No, I don’t think so. Probably from the railroad. It comes up here when the wind’s right. Smell anything, Craig?” “Yes, sir, I believe there is a smoky smell.” “Well, come on. This building’s fireproof, anyway.” “It’s what?” demanded Mr. York as he allowed himself to be urged through the door. “Fireproof, or what they call fireproof.” “It’s about as fireproof as a can of gasoline,” said the architect as Mr. Hall closed the door and turned the lights on. “You’ve got nice brick and stone walls, but your partitions are only plaster over lathing and your floors are the best quality of ‘fat’ pine. If this thing ever did catch on fire and get a nice start it would go like a bundle of shavings. Where’s your fire escape?” “Fire escape? Why, at the back, I think; down the corridor.” “It might be a good idea to find out,” returned the other drily. “Well, Sam, how did the hike go?” “Very well, sir. I found them at Norrence all right and we got back to camp three days later.” “And now you’re back at school, I suppose.” “Not until Monday, sir. Will you have this chair, Mr. Hall?” “No, no, sit still. I’m going to open these windows and get some air in here. Wonderful how this warm weather keeps on. I suppose it’s cool up where you are, Johnny.” “Y-yes, but not freezing. Did Sam here tell you that he paid a short visit to Greysides, John?” “Yes, he told me about it. Must have been frightfully dull for him, poor chap!” “He didn’t say so, but maybe it was.” “I--I had a fine time, sir,” said Sam earnestly. The others laughed. “We had some fine old talks, anyway, didn’t we? That brings me to what I wanted to say, Sam. About that college idea, you know. I haven’t worked anything out yet, but---- Look here, John, I certainly do smell smoke, I tell you!” “Of course you do. I’ve just opened the windows. It comes from the railroad yards.” “It doesn’t smell like coal smoke,” Mr. York objected. “Still--let me see, what was I talking about? Oh, about that college scheme, Sam. Ever think you’d like my profession?” Sam considered. Then he shook his head. “No, sir, I’ve never thought about it,” he answered. “No inclination toward architecture, eh?”