himself popular from the start. There was no need now for petty economies in the Marshall homestead. Business had been prosperous since that one hard winter when Johnny made patchwork to pay for his gun, and he found himself now with as liberal an allowance as any one in his class. "I'm in for having a royal good time," he wrote to Rhoda, who was home-keeper now, for it had been two years since her mother's death, and Rhoda had done her best to fill the vacant place to them all. "And you needn't preach to me, Sis," he wrote. "I'm all right, and I'm not going to get into the trouble which you cheerfully predict. I shall not get into any scrapes that I can't skin out of; but a fellow would be a fool who didn't squeeze as much fun as possible out of his college life." As he was finishing this letter, three students, who were foremost in all the fun going, came tumbling unceremoniously into his room. "Say, you there, Marshall," cried the first one, "hustle up and get ready for a lark to-night. You know that Sophomore Wilson, the long-faced fellow the boys call Squills? He's rooming in the old Baptist parsonage away out on the edge of town. It's vacant now, and they're glad to let him have a room free for the sake of somebody to guard the premises. We've found that he will be out to-night, sitting up with a sick frat., so we've planned to borrow the parsonage in his absence to give a swell dinner. Tingley and Jones will visit several hen-roosts in our behalf, and we'll roast the fowls in the parsonage stove. If you'll just set up the champagne, Jacky, my boy, we'll be 'Yours for ever, little darling,' and we'll gamble on the green of the defunct parson's study table 'till morning doth appear.'" He took out a new deck of cards as he spoke, and slapped significantly on his overcoat pocket, bulging with packages of cigarettes. "What if Squills should come back unexpectedly?" asked Johnny. "Oh, that's all arranged. We'll toss him up in a blanket until he hasn't breath enough left to squeal on us. Suppose you bring along a blanket, if you have one to spare," suggested the wild senior, whose notice always flattered the susceptible freshman. "In case Squills does turn up before schedule time, it would be a good thing to have one handy." "All right, I'll be ready. When do you start?" "At ten o'clock," was the answer. "We'll come by for you," and the three conspirators tramped down the long corridor, shoulder to shoulder, to the whistled tune of "John Brown's Body." John sat down at his table, frowning over his lessons for the next day. For nearly an hour he tried to work, first at his Latin and then