"The train got in at six and there was nothing else to do. I got here before nine." "You did? I thought I was one of the early Byrds--Joke! Get it?--but I didn't sight the Dear Old School until after ten. Couldn't find any fellows I knew and so went for a walk. Most of the fellows don't get here until afternoon. By the way, who do you room with?" "I don't know," replied Clint. "I didn't ask. They put me--" "I don't know either," sighed Amy. "I found a lot of truck in my room, but I haven't seen the owner yet. The fellow who was in with me last year has left school. Gone to live in China. Wish I could! I suppose the fellow I draw will be a regular mutt." They had reached the corner of Wendell, and Amy paused. "The dining room's in here. If you don't mind waiting until I run up and wash a bit we'll eat together." "I'd like to," answered Clint, "but I reckon I'll wash too." He moved along with the other toward the next dormitory. "Aren't you in Wendell?" asked Amy. "No, this next one. Torrey, isn't it?" "Torrence." Amy stopped and viewed him With sudden interest. "Say, what number?" "Fourteen." "_Well, what do you know about that_?" "What?" Clint faltered. "Why--why--" Amy seized his hand and shook it vigorously. "Clint, I want to congratulate you! I do, indeed!" Clint smiled. "Thanks, Byrd, but what about?" "Byrd?" murmured the other disappointedly. "Is that the best you can do after our long acquaintance? You--you grieve me!" "Amory, then," laughed Clint. "Call me Amy," begged the other. "You'll call me worse than that when you've known me longer, but for now let it be Amy." "All right. And now, please, what am I being congratulated for?" Amy's face became suddenly earnest and sober, "Because, my young friend,