“I’m awfully sorry, Toby,” said Arnold. “But maybe it will turn up yet. Things do, you know, when you’re not looking for them. I guess, anyway, it’s too late to go to Greenburg now, for I promised Frank I’d play pool with him in the club at twelve. I’d lend you the money, but I’m just about broke. I say, though, they’ll charge stuff to you, Toby. They aren’t supposed to, but they do it right along. Lots of fellows have accounts in Greenburg. If faculty doesn’t get on to it you’re all right――as long as you don’t let things run too long. Maybe we can get over Monday after dinner.” “What’s the good of having them charged if I can’t pay for them?” asked Toby morosely. “Anyway, I wouldn’t dare to. When you win a scholarship you have to be mighty careful, don’t you?” “I don’t know,” laughed Arnold. “I never won one yet. Well, cheer up, old man. You’ll run across that money when you aren’t expecting to. Come along up to Cambridge and play pool.” “I don’t know how, thanks. You go ahead.” “Well, come and watch me beat Frank then.” But Toby refused and presently Arnold hurried away to keep his appointment, leaving Toby staring disappointedly after him. “He’d rather play pool with Frank than help me find my money,” he told himself. Considering that Arnold had put in a good ten minutes of searching, that was rather unjust, but Toby was in no mood to judge persons or things fairly just now. “If it had been he who lost it,” Toby muttered resentfully, “I’d have stayed around and helped him find it. I wish I’d asked him to tell Frank to bring around that dollar and five cents!” Presently he set to work restoring the room to its wonted tidiness, always hoping that the Hockey Fund would turn up. But it didn’t, and when things were once more in place he banged the door behind him and went downstairs and loafed disconsolately around the Prospect until dinner time. It was much too cold for comfort, but Toby found satisfaction in being miserable and cold.