"Well, if he's going to be a candidate," added Browning, "we must put the campaign through in proper fashion. We must organize a Dismal Jones Club and have an emblem. "I move that we all wear crape upon our left arm and mourning bands upon our hats until the election." "Great Scott!" howled Rattleton, "the time for mourning will be after Jones is elected." Jones listened to this joking with stolid good humor; never a smile lingered on his face, but his solemn eyes showed no resentment. "It's all right," he remarked when they gave him a chance to speak, "you fellows think you've got me on a long string, but I'd like to bet that if I should run for a class office, I wouldn't be last in the race! "Of course," he added, hastily, "I haven't really any insane notion of doing such a thing." The students laughed again, picked up their gripsacks and prepared to separate. "Say!" called Page, eagerly, "what about coming down to see my room?" "Oh, we've got a whole year ahead of us," growled Browning. "I'll run down in the course of an hour or two," said Frank. "I don't think there's anything to do at my room, and I'll be glad to learn the way to yours. What's the number?" Page told him, and Frank exclaimed: "Why! some of the professors live there, don't they?" "Pretty much the whole house," responded Page, "is let out to students and instructors; I believe Prof. Babbitt has his room there----" "Babbitt!" interrupted Rattleton; "he's the most unpardonable crank in the whole faculty." "Well, I shall let him alone, and I've no doubt that he will let me alone," returned Page. "He's a good deal of a hermit, I'm told, and I don't think that his being in the same house will make a particle of difference to me. Anyhow, there's the room and I want you fellows to see it." "I'll be down in a little while," said Frank, and the others also promised to come in the course of a day or two. CHAPTER II. IMPRISONED IN A CHIMNEY. Frank found that there was nothing whatever in his room to demand his attention, and so, after he had unpacked his grips and put away their contents, he went down High Street to call on Page. The house in which Page had taken a room was made of stone. Its walls were very thick, the ceilings low, and everything about it made it seem like a relic of the last century. This is indeed what it was. In former days it had been the residence of one of the wealthiest men in New Haven, but that was long ago; for years it had been used wholly as a lodging house. Page's room was on the second floor. It was very large and cheerful. Three windows looked out on the street and in each of them was a broad seat provided with heavy cushions. On the opposite side of the room there were two old-fashioned benches built against the wall. Between the ends of these benches and right in the middle of that side of the room was one of the ancient chimneys of the house.