He favoured Chester and Phillip with a satyr-like grin and hurried away after refreshments. Twenty minutes later his victims followed, murder in their eyes, but both Guy and the refreshments had disappeared. “Phil, have you the slightest idea what we promised that fellow?” asked Chester wearily as they crossed Broadway. “No; only I remember you told him you’d be on hand next Sunday.” “Did I? I daresay. Great Scott, how he can talk! If I don’t get even with Guy for this I’m――I’m――I’ll――――” But words failed him and he stumbled into Thayer without saying good-night. Phillip’s Sunday evenings with John and David Meadowcamp had now become regular institutions, and he looked forward to them with real pleasure. He saw John frequently during the week, but their various meetings, at Soldiers’ Field, in the square or at The Inn were short and hurried. But another custom which Phillip had formed was destined to result in less good. On Saturday nights he and Chester visited Guy in the latter’s rooms, where they smoked many more cigars and cigarettes than was good for them and drank beer from mugs which had music boxes secreted in them――a harmless enough dissipation if it had ended there. CHAPTER VII Guy occupied rooms in Randolph. He shared them with a freshman named Boerick, a tall, saturnine and unpopular fellow, who, as the possessor of an income sufficient to the needs of a prince, was frankly intolerant of those less lavish in the display of wealth. His admiration for Guy was the exception proving the rule. Guy was well supplied with money, but, unlike his roommate, never made known the fact save in the elegance of his clothes. He treated Boerick with good-natured contempt, explaining to those who expressed surprise at his friendship for that person that Boerick had become necessary to him. “I couldn’t do without him now,” he declared. “He’s really a sort of penance, like a hair shirt or something of that kind, you know. Without him I would undoubtedly be much more comfortable, but I’d certainly miss him terribly. I’d have nothing to scratch against my sensibilities. Besides, he’s an ever-present moral lesson, pointing out eloquently the danger of combining wealth with small minds.” As a rule Boerick was not present during Phillip’s Saturday night visits to Guy, a fact for which Phillip was heartily thankful, since the other’s disdain always made him long to punch his nose. On a certain Saturday evening about a month after the opening of college Phillip and Chester found, on reaching Guy’s study, that Boerick was in possession of the couch and was evidently inclined to spend the evening at home. Phillip returned his off-hand salutation politely and for the next half-hour carefully left him to Chester, who looked upon him much as a small boy looks upon an animal in the Zoo, and who was always glad of the opportunity to, figuratively, punch him through the bars and hear him growl.