He had looked about for Clyde, but had not seen him, but now, following the curving path toward Dawson, he descried him standing near the dormitory steps, one of a group of three. Barry dawdled in the hope that Clyde would detach himself from the others, but he didn’t, and so the new-comer was presently shaking hands with Ellingham and Stearns. Ellingham, addressed by the others as “Goof,” was a tall chap of perhaps seventeen. He didn’t seem vastly impressed by the introduction, but neither, for that matter, was Barry. Hal Stearns was a rather ponderous youth, ponderous both as to build and manner, with plain features, dark hair, and a good deal of color in his full cheeks. As though fearing that he might be blamed for keeping Barry out of Number 42, he was extremely affable. Barry had made up his mind to like Stearns, but now the resolution weakened. Ellingham went off presently and the others climbed the stairs to the room. If Barry had been inclined to think Clyde a bit casual over his advent, somewhat unconcerned about his welfare, Clyde’s remarks during the following ten minutes should have corrected any such assumption. Clyde said that he and Hal had been discussing Barry; about his getting the right sort of start and all that. “There’s a lot in getting off on the right foot,” Clyde continued. “I learned that myself last year. When a fellow doesn’t come in with his class he’s sort of handicapped, you see. But I can help you a lot, Hal and I both, and you’ll probably get on all right. The most important thing of all is getting in with the right sort at the beginning. If you pick up with the wrong bunch the other crowd will fight shy of you and you’ll find it mighty hard to shake loose. Of course I don’t know many Third-Class fellows, but I’ll snoop around a bit and get the dope for you. And we’ll see that you meet some of our bunch. Meanwhile, youngster, you’d better play safe and not get too chummy with any one.” “Well,” said Barry, doubtfully, “I don’t know, Clyde. I’m sort of used to picking my own friends, and so far it hasn’t seemed to do much harm.” “Maybe, but you’ll find things different at a prep school. There are all sorts here, and a lot of them won’t do you any good if you want to get on. Take that guy Peaches Jones, who rooms at your place, for example. Now, he’s a fair example of the sort to keep clear of, Barry. He’s a regular pill.” “That’s right,” agreed Hal. “He’s one of the baseball crowd; Tweet Finch, and the Groves fellows, and that bunch.” “Well, but I expect to play baseball,” said Barry, perplexed. “I wouldn’t think of it!” replied Clyde, emphatically. “You won’t meet the right sort at all. Of course there are two or three, like Jody Hodson and――and――” “Pete Johnston,” Hal suggested.