“Rusty, you’re a wonder!” said Blash earnestly. “You’ll be hung if you live long enough; there’s no doubt about that: but in the meanwhile you certainly do add to the joy of nations!” “What do you mean, hung?” demanded Rusty indignantly. “My record is as clean and my life as stainless--Oh, my sainted grandmother! Here he comes! Hide me behind your stalwart frame, Blash!” From the farther end of the swaying coach came Sandy Halden, gloom and wrath upon his brow, his gaze seeking his enemy. A few seats away his eyes fell on Rusty and they blazed in triumph. He shoved his way past an accumulation of suit-cases and faced his benefactor, his shock-hair standing up defiantly under the cap he wore and his long nose twitching like a rabbit’s. Rusty viewed him calmly. “Hello, Sandy,” he greeted. “Great game, wasn’t it?” “A great game you put up on me!” sputtered Sandy. “I suppose you think you’re mighty smart, eh? You wait till I’m through with you, Crozier! I’ll make you wish you weren’t so blamed funny! I’ll show you what a real joke is! I’ll----” “There, there,” said Rusty, soothingly. “What’s your kick, Sandy? You saw the game all right, didn’t you? And you saved a whole half-dollar, didn’t you? What more do you want? By the way, I suppose you introduced yourself to Harold? Sorry I couldn’t stick around!” “He was all right, don’t you worry! I told him about you and he said a few things you ought to have heard! His name isn’t Harold----” “What? You don’t mean that we got into the wrong room!” exclaimed Rusty incredulously. “Wasn’t it Harold Jones’ room, Sandy?” “You know mighty well whose room it was!” answered the other indignantly. “That’s all right! I’ll get even with you! I’ll----” “Oh, I _am_ sorry!” declared Rusty miserably. “Such an awkward mistake to make. I don’t see how I could have been so stupid! Whatever can I do to show my contrition, Sandy?” By this time most of the fellows within hearing were listening eagerly and amusedly, and it dawned on Sandy that he was making a mistake to advertise the joke. “Never mind your contrition,” he growled in a lower voice, “I’ll fix you, Crozier. Don’t think you can get away with it.” His eyes swept the grinning or amused faces of Rusty’s companions. “You make me sick, anyway, the whole lot of you!” he added. “If I tell Jud what you did, Crozier, you won’t think it’s so funny!” With which veiled threat he swung angrily away and the car door crashed resoundingly behind him. Blash and Stanley were somewhat sobered, but Rusty still beamed. “I wonder what Summer did say!” he chuckled. “I wish I knew!” “Look here,” said Stanley, “you don’t suppose he will go to Jud, do you? You know, Rusty, Jud’s a bit down on you!” “He won’t. He knows that if he did I’d beat him to a stiff froth! Anyhow, what of it? Jud will only appreciate my kindness of heart. It wasn’t really my fault if we stumbled into the wrong room.”