It was a joyful gathering in Pierson that night, with a full attendance, for little by little the Armstrong-Turner-Gleason-Powers combination began to have a following in the dormitory and in the class. Friends began to drop in to talk over matters of the moment as they passed to and from their rooms, and if they were the right kind they always had a welcome. The room became the central one for spreads and parties, when the fun raged until ten o'clock. "All over," Frank would shout. "Lights out." Both Turner and Armstrong believed in keeping strict training hours. On this particular night the Codfish was in his element. "Three cheers for our own little quarterback," he howled. "Sit down, you fish," shouted Turner. "You didn't even see the game." "O, but I have ears. All the little birds sang it as I was coming up from the boathouse this evening." "How's the Freshman crew coming on?" "I'm on the second now. You should have seen us scare the First boat this afternoon. Had a mile spin. Started up by the Quinnipiac bridge, and finished at Tomlinson, points you land-lubbers know nothing about." "And the Second was licked, of course?" "Only by a blade, my son. We gave them the race of their lives, fairly tore down the river, scared the oysters and all that sort of thing, to say nothing of the First Freshmen." "And when do they put you in the first shell?" "'Nother week, about, I guess. Wouldn't be right to the other fellow to advance me too fast." "Great stuff, Codfish," said Turner, laughing. "I think you have confidence enough to steer the 'Varsity crew over the course at New London right now." "Sure thing," said that worthy. "There's nothing to it. Mind over matter, as I hinted to you once before; kind of scientific attitude." The Codfish was busy untying a voluminous box which he had brought home with him. "For heaven's sake, what have you got there, a prehistoric horse?" inquired Turner. "No, my little halfback, it is a guitar," and having finished unwrapping the instrument, he swung it over his head. "I'm going out for the musical club stuff. I must have some activity, some life; can't get it with two grumps like you fellows, so I must go after it." "Jove," groaned Frank, "haven't we suffered enough with you and the piano without having a guitar?" The Codfish lay back on the window seat, strummed the untuned guitar, and began to hum: "When I was a student at Cadiz I played on the Spanish guitar--" "You'll be a student in Hades if you don't let up!" shouted Turner. "We can stand anything excepting the picture of you as a student at Cadiz. Please desist." "O, tush, old fellow, your soul is not attuned to music. What's the next line? I seem to disremember it----" "When I was a stoogent at Cadiz." strum, strum, strum, strum, "I played on the Spanish guitar." "Good night!" yelled Frank. "Come on, let's go to Poli's and hear some real music. We'll let the Codfish be 'a stoogent at Cadiz' all to himself."