Presently he got up and climbed the stairs again to Number 17. Walter Treat’s trunk had arrived and he was unpacking. Clif sat down on a window seat and watched. Walter was astonishingly methodical and particular. It took him many minutes to dispose of a couple of dozen collars to his liking in the left-hand top drawer of his chiffonier, and he rearranged his five pairs of shoes exactly three times along the bottom shelf of his closet. Clif began to wonder if he was going to like Walter Treat, after all. Conversation was desultory, consisting mainly of questions from Clif and answers from Walter. The latter was parsimonious of information, then and ever after. It seemed to be Walter’s philosophy to never offer anything not asked for and then to give as little as possible of it. But by dint of requestioning Clif managed to elicit information regarding school customs and rules which he stood in need of; information regarding the hours for meals, the location of class rooms, the time of rising and so on. With his father――they had reached Freeburg at half-past twelve and had luncheon at the Inn before proceeding to the school――Clif had been conducted through the buildings by one of the faculty and had everything shown and explained. But there were certain details that Mr. Frost, Latin instructor and Assistant to the Principal, had neglected, and it was these that Clif now obtained, not without difficulty, from Walter. “What sort of a chap is this Mr. McKnight?” Clif inquired. “He’s my adviser, you know.” “‘Lovey’? Not a bad sort. He’s Chem.” “Yes, I know, but is he――is he a young man or a fossil?” “About twenty-eight, I believe. Haven’t seen him yet?” “No, I’ve got a date at seven-thirty to fix up my schedule. I’m glad he’s youngish. And how about Wyatt?” “You won’t like him. ‘Alick’s’ a tartar. But you won’t have him more than four hours a week. He’s English Lit.” “Do you have McKnight, too?” “For adviser? No, ‘Cheese’ is my ‘nurse.’ He’s French. You don’t have him until next year.” “Is Cheese his real name, or――” “Parks, Charles Parks. They call him ‘Charlie’ sometimes.” “Do they all have pet names?” asked Clif. “Naturally. There’s ‘Old Brad’ and ‘Lovey’ and ‘Pink’ and ‘Cocky’――and ‘Wim’――” “Who’s ‘Cocky’?”