He was entering the Third Class and had been assigned a room in Sohmer Hall. Brother Stuart had advised Sohmer, since it was the newest of the dormitory buildings, and Dick had made application the year before. To his regret, he had not been able to get a room to himself, but the fact didn’t trouble him greatly. In fact he recognised certain advantages accruing from a room-mate. Who that person was to be he had not yet learned. His train reached Philadelphia at a few minutes before eleven and he had just time to buy a morning paper before the New York Express left. He didn’t waste much time on the front page of the journal, soon turning to the football and athletic news. A hair-breadth connection in New York put him on the last lap of his journey, and, after a deliberative meal in the diner and the perusal of one story in the magazine, it was time to gather his luggage together. The train slid into Warne at three-fifty, and Dick, not a little excited under his appearance of perfect calm, alighted. CHAPTER II “WASHINGTON P. QUIGGLE” Stuart had instructed him so thoroughly that Dick knew just which way to turn in order to find a conveyance to carry him to the school, but Stuart had spoken of carriages and Dick found nothing but chugging “flivvers” manned by eager and noisy youths to whom he hesitated to entrust his life. Automobiles, he presumed, had arrived since Stuart’s time. Dick remained so long in doubt that, almost before he knew it, all but one of the throbbing taxies had found their loads and gone rattling off over the cobbles. He made his way to the remaining conveyance quickly then, but not so quickly as to reach it first. A boy a year or so older already had a hand on the door when Dick arrived. “Goss, Eddie,” Dick heard the boy say. “And don’t spare the horses!” But Eddie, who Dick had earlier decided was the least attractive of the half-dozen drivers, was not losing any chances. “Yes, sir! Parkinson School? Step right in. The gentleman inside won’t mind. What building, sir?” “Sohmer,” answered Dick. And then, to the occupant: “Mind if I go along?” he asked. “This seems to be the only taxi left.” “Not a bit. The more the merrier! Besides,” he continued as the car shot away from the platform with a jerk, wheeled suddenly to the left and dashed headlong over the cobbles, “it makes for economy. They put the fare up last spring. It would have cost me a half if I’d gone alone. By the way, are you in a great hurry?” “Why, no,” answered Dick. “Well, I am.” He leaned toward the open window in front. “Take me to Goss first, Eddie,” he directed.