“Lots sometimes, sir. In winter I don’t get so much. Fellows don’t seem to mess their things up in winter. They wear sweaters and old trousers a good deal.” “So you try to liven trade by offering special inducements? I see. Well, that shows you have a business head, Tucker.” Evidently Mr. Loring had seen _The Scholiast_. Toby hadn’t thought of that likelihood. Of course, he wasn’t ashamed of cleaning clothes, but Mr. Loring was such a correct, immaculately-attired gentleman――what Toby a year ago would have called a “dude”――that he might lose interest in a fellow who had to perform such labor to eke out his expenses. Toby viewed Mr. Loring doubtfully and was silent. “When I was here there was a fellow named Middlebury who used to make rather a good thing of darning socks. He was a wonder at it. I’ve never seen a woman do it better, by Jove! Charged two cents a pair, I think it was, and was as busy as a hen. Nice chap, Middlebury was. Honor Man two years and rowed on the crew. There isn’t much a fellow can do here, though, to earn money, and you were clever to think of the cleaning and pressing business. At college it’s rather different. All sorts of things there for a chap; waiting on table, looking after furnaces and shoveling snow and cutting grass, taking subscriptions, selling things――no end to them.” Coach Loring looked around the little room, but not at all critically. “I don’t believe I was ever in this room, all the time I was at school here.” “Where did you room, sir?” asked Toby. “Clarke first, and then Dudley. I remember young Thompson roomed on the floor below. Number 20, I think it was. I wonder what became of Arthur. Funny how you lose track of fellows after you get away. They don’t provide you with many luxuries up here, Tucker.” “No, sir, but the rent isn’t very much, you see.” “This is your first year, you said, didn’t you? Second class?” “Third, sir. Maybe I ought to be in the second. I’m nearly sixteen――” “You look fully that. I wouldn’t worry. I didn’t get out of here until I was eighteen, and I’ve never regretted it. What do you do besides hockey, Tucker? Go in for football any?” “I tried for the second last Fall, but I didn’t make it. They said I was too light, but I guess it was because I didn’t play well enough.” Mr. Loring laughed. “You seem honest with yourself, my boy! Now, about hockey. Like it, do you?” “Very much, sir.” “Did you want to play goal or did some one just put you there?” “I was put,” answered Toby, smiling. “I didn’t know much about it when I started to play. I tried being a forward, but I couldn’t seem to get the hang of it. I don’t――don’t skate very fancy.” “Well, I don’t remember that I did,” was the reply. “But I managed to get around pretty well and they made me captain finally. So that needn’t bother you, Tucker.” “Did you play goal, sir?”