“Look here, Allan, I think you’d rather like him if you got to know him. He’s--he’s rather a decent sort, after all. I didn’t take to him at first, of course, but--and I don’t say now that he’s the sort of chap you’d want to ask home and introduce to your people; he’s kind of free and easy, and you couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t drink the catsup out of the bottle or slap your governor on the back--but he’s--well, there’s something about him you can’t help liking,” he ended, with an apologetic tone. “Maybe I would,” answered Allan, pleasantly. Hal looked surprised. “He’s given up the class secretaryship, you know,” he announced. “Why?” “I don’t know for sure, but Poor says he told him it was because he didn’t think he’d be here much after the holidays.” “Where’s he going?” asked Allan. “Don’t know. Funny idea, to come to college for half a year. Maybe----” There were footsteps on the porch, the front portal opened with a crash, and an imperative knock sounded on the room door. Allan jumped to his feet. Could it be fire? he wondered, shooting a bewildered glance at Hal. He hurried to the door just as the hammering began again, more violently than before. Hal raised himself uneasily from the Morris chair, prepared for the worst. Allan called, “_Come in!_” and the door was flung open. Entered Tommy Sweet! “You thundering idiot!” bawled Hal. “I thought it was at least the Dean! You can make more-- Hello, Burley! Glad to see you.” “This is Mr. Burley, Allan,” Tommy was saying. “Brought him around ’cause I wanted you to know each other. Mr. Ware--Mr. Burley.” Allan felt his hand enveloped in something large and warm and vise-like. He felt his fingers crushed together, thought he could hear the bones breaking--and still managed to smile painfully, but politely, the while. Then Burley had dropped his hand and was saying: “I’ve wanted to know you ever since I saw you win that running race the other day. Came around here and left a card on you, but I guess you didn’t find it.” Allan murmured his appreciation, but remained silent as to the “card.” “I told Sweet here that you’d win that race. Offered to bet him anything he liked. He wouldn’t bet, though.” Peter Burley took the chair proffered by Hal and carefully lowered himself into it. “They told me you carried me over to the tent,” said Allan. “Much obliged, I’m sure.” “Welcome,” answered the other, heartily. “You didn’t weigh anything to mention.” “Not as heavy as the freshman team, eh?” asked Tommy. Burley looked apologetically around the circle. “I suppose every one’s heard of that fool thing?” he asked. “Just about every one, I guess,” laughed Tommy.