“He seems to have it in for me too,” said Allan, thoughtfully. “The other day he didn’t want to make pace for me when I tried the two miles, and acted nasty as you like afterward in the locker house.” “He’s a queer customer,” said Tommy. “A pretty good fellow to keep away from. I don’t mean that there’s anything wrong with him, you know, but he’s awfully uncertain. You never can tell how he’s going to take a thing. Just after recess I met him one day, and asked him if he’d taken in the St. Thomas Club Indoor Meet--he lives in Brooklyn, you know--and he nearly took my head off; said he wasn’t home Christmas, and implied that it was none of my business. I told him I didn’t care a rap where he was.” “That’s right, Tommy; don’t you let them monkey with you,” laughed Allan. “Well, what did he want to jump on me for?” asked Tommy, warmly. “I didn’t care whether he went to the old meet or not; I just wanted to be polite. The reason I mentioned the meet was that he’d told about going the year before while he was at home, and I just happened to remember seeing something about it before Christmas. It’s an open meeting, you know, and they have a big card--weights, team races, boxing, and all sorts of stunts.” “What is he, a miler?” asked Hal. Tommy nodded. “Guess that explains his cutting up with you, Allan; you beat him in the fall, didn’t you?” “Yes, with a good big handicap.” “Well, he’s afraid you’re going to cut him out of a place in the dual meet.” “There’s no good reason why he should think so. He can beat me, I’m pretty sure. Besides, if Billy Kernahan has his way, I’ll be down only for the two miles at the dual.” “We’re going to have a dandy article on the indoor meeting this week,” said Tommy. “Wrote it yourself, eh?” suggested Hal. “I suppose it will be like last year’s, though,” Tommy continued, ruefully. “We had two columns, with everything figured out finely: who was going to do what, and which fellows would win places. And then it came out all wrong.” “Say, Thomas,” said Pete, when the laughter had subsided, “I don’t want to hurry you, but I’m getting the powerful hungers.” “Yes, Tommy, how about that dinner at the Elm Tree?” chimed in Hal. “He’s making money to pay for it,” said Allan. “No, I’m not,” answered Tommy, sadly. “That’s the trouble. You’ll have to wait a bit, Pete; I’m dead broke, honest Injun!” “All right; just so long as I get that feed. Better not put it off too long, though; I’m nicely conditioned, you know, since the Midyears, and there’s no telling what may happen to me.” “That’s so,” Allan said. “A fellow that’s been drowned, suspended, and put on probation, all in two short months, is a pretty slippery customer.” “Say, Allan,” said Tommy, reminiscently, “do you remember the night we waited up here for that duffer to come home?” “The night he was drowned?” asked Allan. “Never’ll forget it. The way the wind howled and cut up was a caution; made me think of graveyards and--and corpses.”