The purchaser in front hurried away and he turned from Joe to the ticket seller. A minute or so later, when the three were walking along the platform, they again overtook the stranger, and Joe said smilingly: “If you’re looking for a parlor car, there isn’t one.” “Thanks, I thought maybe it was up ahead.” “Not on this train. Better come and sit with us and we’ll turn a seat over.” Fortunately for that project, the car they entered was no more than half filled, and soon, having stowed their suitcases in the rack overhead, they settled down, Bob and Martin taking the front seat and Joe and the stranger the other, the latter placing his kit-bag, which was too large for the rack, between his feet. As soon as they were settled the train started. “By the way,” said Joe, “my name’s Myers, and this is Newhall and this is Proctor.” The other acknowledged the introductions with a smile. “Very glad to know you,” he said. “My name’s Harmon.” “Joe says you’re going to Kenly,” observed Bob, trying hard to keep pity out of his voice. “Yes, I’m just entering.” There was an embarrassed silence after that while the train rumbled its way through the tunnel. Then: “Well, everyone to his taste,” murmured Martin. Joe frowned rebukingly and Martin grinned back. “Guess you chaps don’t think much of Kenly,” said Harmon with a laugh. “Oh, don’t pay any attention to Mart,” said Bob. “Kenly’s all right, I guess. She licked us last year, 14 to 6. Beat us at hockey, too.” “That’s right,” agreed Martin, though it evidently hurt him. “Kenly’s going to have a good team this year, too, I hear.” “Is she?” Harmon didn’t seem vastly interested. “Guess you play football, don’t you?” asked Bob. “A fellow back there said you made a corking tackle of that thief!” “I’ve played some.” Joe started. “Did you say your name was Harmon?” he demanded almost brusquely. The other nodded inquiringly. “Did you go to Schuyler High last year?” pursued Joe. Harmon nodded again. Joe shot a meaningful look at Bob and Martin. Bob answered with a slow wink, but Martin looked puzzled. Joe relapsed into thoughtful silence, and conversation ceased for a minute or two. When the train emerged from the tunnel, however, Joe settled himself further into his corner, which enabled him to see his seat companion without turning his head so far, and asked: “If it isn’t too personal, Harmon, how did you happen to decide on Kenly Hall?” Harmon looked the least bit surprised, but he answered unhesitatingly. “My brother was going to Kenly,” he explained. “Then he decided he’d quit school and join the Navy. So I just thought I might as well go where he’d started for. Guess that was the way it happened. I don’t really know much about the place. Dare say, if I’d heard of your school first I’d have gone there.” “Gee, I wish you had!” said Joe in heartfelt tones.