"These fellows are all right," Cateye assured, as Judd gazed about him doubtfully, "They didn't mean anything. They're all good friends of Bob's. They just wanted to show you a good time. You probably took them too seriously. Come on, Judd, we'll take your things to my room." Relieved, the new arrival stooped and picked up his suitcases. His face wore a sheepish look but he offered no apology for his conduct. Rather he seemed anxious to get away from the bunch. "A--am I goin' to bunk with you?" he asked of Cateye. "Bunk?" repeated Cateye, "Oh, sure! You're going to be my room-mate." "Heaven forbid!" said someone. "Take him away," urged Benz, "We don't want anything more to do with him." And without another word being spoken Cateye set off with Judd, the new arrival stalking along, carrying the two bulging suitcases easily, scorning Cateye's offer of aid. "That guy's cooked his goose at Bartlett!" declared Benz, feelingly, "And from now on, guys, he's just a plain rube to me!" "Rube's the right word!" agreed Pole. "That's what we'll call him after this!" decided Curns, "Rube!" And so, one Judd Billings, sent to Bartlett by his highly esteemed brother Bob, stepped off into a new world, for him, on the wrong foot. CHAPTER VII THE FIRST NIGHT "But, Judd," argued Cateye, weakly, "I never sleep with my window wide open like that. Especially this time of year. Why there is frost on the ground in the morning and the room will be cold as ice when we wake up!" "Well, I can't see any harm in good ventilation. I slept in the barn most all this summer an' I don't look sick, do I?" said Judd, for the third time. Cateye looked him over. No, to be sure, Judd didn't look very sick. In fact he seemed exceedingly robust. One hundred and ninety-six pounds, most of it worked into well formed and almost abnormal muscles. "I can't say that you do look sick," admitted Cateye, "That's just why you can stand it. But I,--I'm not used to such outdoor measures. Do you want to turn this room into a park?" "Not eggs-actly a park, but I believe in lots of fresh air an', ..." "Have it your own way then!" growled Cateye, savagely, seeing the uselessness of further argument. He ventured no more remarks but watched Judd's every action curiously, musing: "I can't see Bob's idea in wishing this bird on me--even if he is his own brother--but I've taken him in now and I'll stick it out to the end." Meanwhile Judd had removed a wallet from his pocket and was in the act of secreting it between mattress and springs. "I say, Judd, what's the idea of hiding your wad? Nobody will steal it. There aren't any thieves about here!" Cateye, already in bed, raised himself upon his elbow and eyed his new room-mate interestedly. "You never can tell, Mister Frey. I had my dinner swiped this noon an' I'm not takin' any chances!" "For heaven's sake, Judd, call me Cateye. Everybody else does."