After supper they worked on the arrangement of their room. The Gutter Pup grew ecstatic as Lovely produced his treasures from the bottom of the trunk. "My aunt's cat's kittens!" he ejaculated as Lovely produced a set of pennants in gaudy arrangement. "Will we have the boss room, though! Lovely, you are a treasure! This will make the Waladoo Bird turn pale and weep for sorrow. Supposin' we ruminate." They ranged their accumulated possessions on the floor, and sat back to consider. "Well," said the Gutter Pup, "let's begin by putting the cushions on the window-seat and the rugs on the floor. Now the question is--what's to have the place of honour?" "What have you got?" asked Lovely, considering. "I've got a signed photograph of John L. Sullivan," said the Gutter Pup, proudly producing it. "It used to be cleaner, but Butsey White blew up with a root-beer bottle and spattered it." "Is it his own signature?" inquired Lovely, gazing in awe. "Sure. Dear old John L. He _was_ a fighter. Now, what have _you_ got?" "I've got a picture of an actress." "Honest?" "Sure." "Who is it?" "Maude Adams." "You don't say so!" "Fact." "It isn't signed, Lovely--it can't be?" "It is." "Cracky! That _is_ a prize. Maude Adams! Think of it! What will the Waladoo Bird say?" The Gutter Pup gazed reverently at the priceless photograph and said in a breath: "Maude Adams and John L.; think of it, Lovely!" He paused and added in a burst of gratitude: "Say, you can call me Gazelle or Razzle-dazzle now, if you want; afterward we'll see about Gutter Pup." Lovely was too overcome by this advance to voice his feelings, but his heart went out to his new friend, all irritation forgotten. After long discussion it was decided that the two photographs, being of unique and equal value, should be hung side by side on the background of an American flag. The pennants were strung as a border around the walls, but were speedily hidden under an imposing procession of light-weight and middle-weight champions, sporting prints, posters and lithographic reproductions of comic opera favourites, boxing gloves, fencing masks, lacrosse sticks, Japanese swords, bird nests, stolen signs, photographs of athletic teams, cotillon favours and emblems of the school and the Woodhull. They stopped and gazed in awe and admiration, and falling gleefully into each other's arms, executed a dance about the room. Then Lovely Mead, in an unthinking moment, standing before the photograph of the mighty John L., exclaimed: "Say, Gazelle, isn't he a wonder, though! How long have you had it?" "I got it," said the Gutter Pup, putting his head on one side and reflecting, "right after I fought Whitey Brown--just before my mill with Doggie Shephard--a year and a half ago, I should say." All the joy of the home-building left Lovely. He sat down on the bed and pulled at his shoe-strings so viciously that they broke off in his hand. "What's the matter?" said the Gutter Pup in surprise. "Nothing."