It's a peculiar fact that no matter how glad a chap may be to get home he's equally delighted to get back to school. At least, that's the way with most fellows, and it was the way with Roy. Vacation seemed over almost before it had begun, and then, one bright, snowy January morning when the new year was but a few days old, he woke up to find himself snuggled under the yellow comforter that adorned his bed in the Senior Dormitory. And before he could gather courage to slip even one foot out into the cold there was a rush on the stairs and Chub, all blue pajamas and grins, was on him like a small tornado, had thrown the coverings in all directions and had dragged him out on to the unsympathetic floor. Jack bore down to see justice done and Tom Forrest, holding a bath towel about him, paused on his way back from the wash-room to watch and give encouragement. Roy and Chub had it out on the next bed and Chub eventually begged for mercy from beneath a feather pillow. And subsequently they dashed downstairs together and reached the dining room just on the nick of time, feeling like hungry colts. Yes, it was mighty good to be back again, even though mid-winter exams were due in a few days. Roy had missed Chub and Jack and the others, and even his brother's breathless narrative of the Yale-Harvard game from the point of view of a Crimson right-tackle who had become next year's captain hadn't seemed half so wonderful as it would have a year before. Chub's badly-spelled letter regarding the outlook for the Ferry Hill Hockey Team had been much more interesting. The rink was flooded that afternoon, a round two dozen boys working with a will at the pump which drew water from the river and ran it through an iron pipe into the enclosure. It was a cold day--the thermometer read eight degrees above at four o'clock--and although the river was frozen only along the banks and out near Fox Island, there was no doubt but that they would have a nice sheet of ice for the morrow's practice. Chub borrowed a thermometer from the kitchen window--without telling anyone about it--and hung it outside his own casement. Sid solemnly affirmed that Chub was leaning out of the window reading the thermometer by moonlight every time he woke up. And as Chub observed scathingly that Sid was never known to wake up from the time he went to sleep until he was pulled on to the floor in the morning, Sid's statement doubtless held some truth. Chub was at Roy's bedside the next morning long before the rising bell had rung. As he had no business there at that time, he moved and spoke very cautiously. "It's four below, Roy!" he whispered. "Huh?" asked Roy sleepily. "It's four below zero, you lazy chump!" "Who? What?" "The thermometer! What did you think I was talking about?" "Thought you might mean the dormitory," answered Roy, now thoroughly awake, drawing the bed clothes closer about him and shivering. "Pshaw, you're not cold! Come on; get up." "Bell rung?"