"He did, just the same. Last year, when Merry pitched the deciding game of the series, Paulding felt sure Harvard would win, and he stuck on 'em every last rag of money he could rake and scrape. Well, Yale won, and Willis was busted. He was forced to tell his old man the whole truth before he could get money enough to let him out of New Haven for the summer. More than that, the old man has taken precautions to prevent Willis from having any money to waste in betting this year. He has all of Willis' bills sent to him to settle, and keeps his son horribly short of filthy. Just as hard, Willis found out that the governor had told his tailor to make the boy all the clothes he wanted. That was enough. Willis ordered six suits at fifty dollars each, and he soaked every one of them at ten each as soon as he got them. So you see Paulding is provided with plenty of coin for this little racket, and he says he is going to put every red he has on Old Yale. Last year cured him of betting against his own colors." "If Willis thought of that scheme himself, he has more brains in his head than I fancied," smiled Diamond. "Tell you how I made a strike," chirped Danny Griswold. "You know I've been writing a few things and giving them away to the papers. Well, the governor heard of it, and he decided I was making a fool of myself, so he sat down and fired a shot at me. He called my attention to the fact that Johnson said the man who writes for anything but money is a fool. This is the way I answered: 'Dear Gov: I observe you say some chap by the name of Johnson says the man who writes for anything but money is a fool. I quite agree with Mr. Johnson. Please send me one hundred dollars.' That must have hit the old boy about right, for he sent me fifty." Danny ended with a gleeful chuckle, and the listening lads laughed. "That's pretty good--for you," nodded Bink Stubbs; "but speaking about clothes reminds me that I had a little lunch in a restaurant last evening, and I found a button in the salad. I called the waiter's attention to it, and he calmly said, 'That's all right, sir; it's part of the dressing.'" "Now he has broken loose!" cried Danny Griswold. "There is no telling what sort of a rusty old gag he'll try to spring. If we only had a few stale eggs for him!" Bink grinned, as he observed: "There's nothing like poached eggs, as the nigger said when he robbed the hencoop." Diamond proposed a song, and soon the boys were at it. When they had finished one song, Browning soberly observed: "It seems to me that there is one song which would be particularly appropriate for this season when all of us are soaking something in order to raise the wind." "What is it?" shouted several voices. "Solomon Levi." In another moment the merry lads were shouting: