“You’re a pretty good little old rat, Purdy, and I’ll lick the fellow that says you’re not. Has Dick been over?” “Not since last night, after you’d gone to the ‘_Mike_’ office.” “Did he say he wanted to see me for anything particular?” “No, he didn’t say much of anything; just asked for you, and then mooned around a bit with his hands in his pockets and went away.” Knowing well Purdick’s peculiar gift for reading faces, Larry pushed the inquiry farther. “You’re pretty good at guessing what’s in the back part of a fellow’s head, Purdy. Was there anything the matter with Dick?” “If you ask me, I’ll say there was. He looked mighty sober――for him.” Larry hung upon his heel, so to speak. Though he had had a number of invitations, he had never yet set foot inside of the Zeta Omega house. Should he go and look Dick up? At this time in the evening he would probably be in the frat house. Larry thought he’d better go over. For old times’ sake, if for nothing else, he might take that much trouble. It was just coming on to dusk when he left Mrs. Grant’s, and as he was unlatching the gate a slender figure with its head down and its hands in its pockets came along the sidewalk. “Dick!” exclaimed Larry; “I was just going over to the Omegs’ to hunt you up.” Then, as he got his first good look at Dick’s face: “Great cats!――what under the sun have you been doing to yourself?” Dick turned his face away. “Would you――would you mind taking a little hike with me, Larry?” he asked. “Sure I won’t; it’ll seem like old times. Which way?” Dick set the direction and the pace without saying anything. The course led out Maple Avenue to the country road leading to the bridge whose portal arch bore in figures two feet high the numerals of their class. For the entire mile they tramped along side by side in silence. Dick did not speak, and Larry, borrowing something from that manhood which he was just touching on its hither side, respected his companion’s silence. It was quite dark when they came to the bridge, though there was a slender sickle of a new moon hanging a few degrees above the western horizon. The bridge approach was guarded by a low concrete wall, and when they reached the wall Dick sat down on it. “You haven’t had your supper yet, I know, and I won’t keep you very long,” he said in a sort of strained voice. Then he went on: “I――I’ve brought you out here to tell you good-bye, Larry. I’m canned――sent home.” “What!” Larry almost shouted the word. “It’s so. One of the profs.――Morton, he was kind of sorry for me, I guess――gave me a hint yesterday. That’s why I went around to Mother Grant’s last night to try to find you. I got the faculty letter to-day.” “But, Dick――what on top of earth have you been doing?” “The letter says it’s something I haven’t been doing――keeping up with my classroom work. But that’s only a part of it, and not the worst part, either. You see, Dad’s a Sheddon old-grad., and they’re trying to let him down easy.”