5. No squab shall leave the House after lights without express permission. These regulations were not simply an exercise of arbitrary authority, for in the House itself were certain elements which Dink perfectly understood, and whose spheres of influence he was resolved to confine to their own limits. "How're you going to enforce, Sire, these imperial decrees?" asked the Tennessee Shad, who, however, thoroughly approved. "I have a method," said Stover, with an interior smile. "It's what I call a Rogues' Gallery." "I don't see," said the Tennessee Shad, puzzled. "You will." The first rebel was a Freshman, Bellefont, known as the Millionaire Baby, who, due to a previous luxurious existence, had acquired manly practices at an early age. Bellefont was detected with the odor of tobacco. "Young squab, have you been smoking?" said Stover. "Well, what are you going to do about it?" said the youngster defiantly. "Gutter Pup, get your camera," said Stover. The Gutter Pup, mystified, returned. The autocrat seized the young rebel, slung him paternally across his knee and with raised hand spoke: "Gutter Pup, snap a couple of good ones. We'll make this Exhibit A in our Rogues' Gallery." Bellefont, at the thought of this public perpetuation, set up a howl and kicked as though mortally stung. Stover held firm. The snapshots were taken, developed and duly posted. From that moment, in public at least, Stover's slightest gesture was obeyed as promptly as the lifting of an English policeman's finger. The yoke once accepted became popular alike with the older members, who ceased to be annoyed, and with the squabs themselves, who, finding they were protected from bullying or unfair exactions, soon adopted toward Stover an attitude of reverent idolatry that was not without its embarrassments. He was called upon at all hours to render decisions on matters political and philosophical, with the knowledge that his opinion would instantly be adopted as religion. Before him were brought all family quarrels, some serious, some grotesque; but each class demanding a settlement in equity. One afternoon Dennis maliciously piloted to his presence Pee-wee Norris and his new roommate, a youngster named Berbacker, called Cyclops from the fact that one eye was glass, a gift that brought him a peculiar admiration and envy. Stover, observing the cunning expression on Finnegan's face, scented a trap. The matter was, indeed, very grave. "See here, Dink," said Pee-wee indignantly; "I leave it to you. How would you like to stumble upon a loose eye all over the room?" "A what?" "A loose eye. This fellow Cyclops is all the time leaving his glass eye around in my diggin's and I don't like it. It's the deuce of a thing to find it winking up at you from the table or the window-seat. It gives me the creeps." "What have you got to say, Cyclops?" said Stover, assuming a judicial air.