We never have paid any fellow for playing on an Alton team and I don’t want to begin now. Besides, if faculty ever found out about it – Zowie!”
“Well, I don’t want any favors, thanks. But suppose I did decide to stay here, Myers – ”
“Sure! That’s the talk!”
“Wait a minute! First thing of all, do I get any supper?”
“You bet you do! Five minutes after you say the word I’ll have you hitched up to a swell meal!”
“Well, what about a room? I’d want to be decently fixed that way, you know. Entering late like this I suppose I’d have to take the leavings, eh?”
“Listen! We’ve got a swell room waiting for you. The fellow that was going in with Mart isn’t coming at all and I’ve asked the secretary to hold it open until tomorrow morning. It’s a corking room; nice big study with three windows and a fine view; on the front of Haylow; big alcove; furniture nearly new and everything!”
“Sounds pretty fair,” commented Harmon. “Maybe I wouldn’t like this fellow Proctor, though: or maybe he wouldn’t like me.”
“Rot! Everyone likes Mart, and he’s bound to like you. If he doesn’t I’ll knock him into the middle of next Sunday! You’ll get on together great!”
“We-ell,” said Harmon unenthusiastically, “maybe. And it’s certain that I’m to make the team?”
“You bet it is!” laughed Joe. “Just as long as you can stand on your feet and play football you’re sure of a job!”
“Suppose I’m not as good as you seem to think I am?”
“I’ll risk that,” chuckled Joe.
“How about the coach, though?”
“Johnny? Don’t worry about him. He will be just as tickled as I am to get you! What do you say, old man? It’s getting pretty close to seven o’clock.”
“All right, I’ll agree! Open the door!”
“No tricks? You’re not meaning to get out and then say I misunderstood you or something?”
“No tricks, Myers, I give you my word!”
The bolt shot back protestingly, the door swung open and Joe’s delighted countenance was revealed. “Gee, I’m glad, Harmon!” he exclaimed. “Shake!” Harmon shook. He, too, was smiling, but his smile was not so guileless.
“You win, Myers,” he said. “Now lead me to that supper!”
“Come on! We’ll feed first and then you can register. I haven’t had anything myself yet.” They sped down the stairs and across empty, twilighted corridors and finally to the cool outdoors. “I didn’t tell any of the fellows where you were,” Joe explained as he guided Harmon around the building toward Lawrence Hall. “I just said that I was in touch with you. Here we are. It’s sort of late, but I guess there’s plenty left. I’ll take you to my table tonight and tomorrow we’ll see if there’s a place there you can have regularly.”
Both boys were much too hungry to waste breath on conversation, and the meal proceeded almost in silence. There was plenty to eat and Harmon did full justice to it. When they had finished Joe took him in tow again and they went back to Academy Hall and turned to the left on the first floor and passed through a door whose ground-glass pane bore the inscription: “Office – Walk In.” What happened was very simple. At a desk Harmon was introduced to a tall, lean gentleman whose name was Mr. Wharton. The secretary shook hands politely and scrutinized the applicant through a pair of strong glasses. Then he gave him a card and a pen and Harmon wrote on the dotted lines, going to some pains to conceal the writing from Joe. The latter, however, had no thought of looking. Then a sum of money changed hands, the secretary filled out a receipt for it, Harmon produced a certificate from the principal of the Schuyler High School and the interview ended with a long sigh of relief from Joe.
“That’s done,” he said as they reached the corridor again. “Now I’ll take you up to your room.”
Haylow Hall was the last building at the left of the Green. Joe pushed his way through a group of boys on the stone steps and Harmon followed, conscious that he was being viewed with a good deal of interest by the loungers. Joe, too, noticed the fact, for he chuckled, as they started up the stairs: “Guess some of those fellows recognized you, from the way they stared!” There, however, Joe was wrong. The interest had been only such as would have been accorded to any fellow under such circumstances. For Joe was unaware of the glow of triumph that shone from his countenance as he guided his companion into the dormitory!
In Number 16 Martin Proctor was unpacking a trunk when Joe and Harmon entered. Martin looked questioningly from the latter to Joe, a doubtful grin on his face.
“It’s all right,” announced Joe gayly. “He’s registered, Mart! Where’s Bob?”
“Over at the room, I guess. He brought the bag and lit out. Say, Harmon, I’m mighty glad about this. And – and I hope you don’t hold it against us for what we did. It was sort of rough stuff, but – ”
“Not at all,” answered Harmon calmly. “It’s quite all right. Guess I ought to feel flattered instead of sore, anyway. Myers says I’m to room here with you.”
“That’s right. It’s a pretty fair room, Harmon. Better than lots of ’em, anyway. You might take your pick of the beds in there. It doesn’t matter to me which I have.”
“Thanks.” Harmon gravely inspected the curtained alcove and decided on the left-hand bed. Perhaps the fact that Martin’s pajamas lay there had something to do with the decision. Martin blinked but stood the blow heroically and tried to forget that the right-hand bed had a weak spring. At that moment Harmon caught sight of his kit-bag on the floor and pointed at it in surprise.
“Isn’t that mine?” he asked. “How did get here?”
“Bob brought it up from the station a few minutes ago,” explained Martin.
“You fellows must have been pretty certain of having your way!” marveled the owner of the bag.
Joe nodded soberly. “We had to be,” he said grimly. “Once we had started, we had to go through with it, Harmon.”
“But suppose I hadn’t given in! Suppose I’d gone to the principal here and told him that you fellows had kidnapped me and locked me up in a room?”
Joe smiled gently. “No chance of that, old man. If you hadn’t decided to stay with us by midnight we’d have taken you back to the station and put you on the twelve-twenty train.”
“Hm! And I – er – I wouldn’t have had anything to say?”
“No.” Joe shook his head. “There’d have been three of us anyway; maybe four; and we’d have fixed you so you couldn’t talk much.”
Harmon smiled. “Still, afterwards I could have talked. I could have come back, or written a letter and spilled the beans.”
“Yes, you could have done that, but we argued that once away from here you’d get over your grouch and forget it. Besides, a chap doesn’t want to look foolish.”
“That’s so,” agreed Harmon, and he repeated it more emphatically in the next breath. “It is uncomfortable, isn’t it?” The arrival of Bob Newhall made a response by Joe unnecessary, although the latter wondered just a little over Harmon’s expression and the inflection of his voice. Bob gave a shout of triumph and joy when he saw Harmon.
“A brand from the burning!” he exclaimed. “This is great! I just knew you’d see reason, Harmon! Say, I’m tickled to death!”
“Well, don’t upset the table,” warned Martin. “Let’s sit down, fellows. This has been sort of a strenuous day. Try the big chair, Harmon. By the way, as we’re going to see a good deal of each other we might as well get used to real names. Mine’s Martin, but I’m generally called Mart.”
“But never Smart,” interpolated