Just before bedtime he knocked at Roger’s door. “Hello!” he cried, putting his head into the room. “Will you give me a lift on this confounded Virgil?” “Certainly,” answered Roger. “Come in—. Doesn’t your trot tell you about it?” he added with a sly grin. Dunn still adhered to the theory that the literal translation affords an excellent short cut to proficiency in an ancient language. The twenties and thirties that he received on examinations were fully offset, Dunn maintained, by the great success of his daily recitations. He always knew what the Latin ought to say, anyway; he never made any crazy blunders such as Redfield perpetrated. “I can’t make connections with the trot in this place,” answered Dunn, calmly, “and Ben can’t. I don’t believe you can, either, if you did get eighty on the exam.” Roger soon proved that he could—indeed, the problem presented no difficulties except such as Dunn’s stupidity had raised or his cunning invented. Having thus paved the way for his main business, Dunn leaned against the door-post, and, holding a finger between the leaves of his Virgil to strengthen the impression that he was stopping casually on the way back to his interrupted work, began to talk. “You didn’t get the captaincy, did you?” Roger gave a good-natured little laugh. “No, I didn’t, and I didn’t expect to.” “You came mighty near it.” “Four votes out of fourteen—that’s not very near.” “I don’t mean that. You know what I mean.” Hardie shook his head. “The day before the election it was all settled that you were to get it. I heard so from McDowell and Bumpus and two or three others. Then something happened, and the vote went the other way.” “What happened?” Roger was listening eagerly. “Talbot went against you and bulldozed ’em into electing Horr. You know he’s always got to have his way.” Roger smiled bravely. “He probably thought Horr would make a better captain.” “I don’t know what he thought. I know what he did. He pretends to be a friend of yours, too.” “He _is_ a friend,” said Roger, quickly. “The way he treated you didn’t look much like it. Good night.” Dunn returned to his room fairly well satisfied with himself; he had given Hardie something to think of that would take down his insufferable conceit, a conceit which Dunn was convinced must be the worse since it was masked by such a quiet exterior.