“Powerful glad to know you, gentlemen,” he said. “Fillmore told me about your arrival last night. Of course I’ve heard more or less concerning you at other times.” He was told of the plan to drive out on the Pimlico Road and immediately declared it would give him pleasure to go along. “Wait a moment,” said Fillmore, “and I’ll be ready.” He then ran into the house and did some telephoning. Soon the quartette was ready to start. As they drove away they lifted their hats to the girls, who had lingered on the steps outside the door. Fillmore noticed that Hackett turned to look back and fancied he did so to obtain another view of Inza. It was a beautiful drive out along Mount Royal Avenue and through Druid Hill Park to the Pimlico Road. They chatted freely, their talk being mainly of such sports as must interest college men. “What sort of a place is this road house we’re going to?” inquired Frank. “It’s all right,” answered Fillmore. “The fellows go out there often. Hastings knows how to use us. Occasionally we pull off a little scrap out there. He has a room fitted up for it, and I’ve seen some right good fights in his place. Not regular prize fights, you know, but bouts between amateurs. If you want the real thing, you’ll have to go to the old Armory.” “I’m not at all particular about the real thing,” confessed Merry. “Prize fighting is a bit out of my line.” “Seems to me I’ve heard that you were something of a boxer.” “Oh, I know a little about it; but what I know I learned for the purpose of being able to defend myself when necessary. I have a belief that every fellow should be able to do that.” “That’s right, too,” said Hackett. “Lots of fellows take lessons of Galway, at Hastings’.” “Who’s Galway?” “He’s a boxing master, and a great fighter himself. He knocked out Johnny Neil at the Armory two weeks ago, and Neil had ambitions to meet Jeffries. When he gets mad he sometimes hammers a pupil. He hangs round Hastings’ place the most of the time.” “If he didn’t lush he’d be a wonder,” put in Fillmore. “He has an awful wallop. Puts ’em all to sleep.” “I don’t think Mr. Galway interests me,” laughed Merry. “I shall take pains to keep clear of him.” In due time they arrived at Hastings’ place. As soon as they appeared they were hailed with shouts of welcome from several young fellows, who were sitting on the broad veranda. “There’s Branch, Whisper, and the others,” said Fillmore. “I telephoned before we started, and they’re looking for us.” A colored man appeared and took charge of the horses as soon as they drove up. A few moments later Frank and Bart were shaking hands with the Hopkins men on the veranda, Fillmore introducing them. Jack Branch, the manager of the lacrosse team, was a shrewd-faced, freckled chap, sharp-voiced and gimlet-eyed. He was a Connecticut Yankee, and had been appointed manager of the team on account of his natural shrewdness.