“Good for you!” exclaimed the Senior. “I’ll help you, Demy. Horace is pie for me. You fellows cut along to your rooms,” he added, significantly. “You haven’t seen them, have you, Demy?”
“No, Mr. Bennington, not if you don’t wish me to,” and the janitor, with a grateful look at the Senior, prepared to listen to the Latin, while Tom and his chums, grateful for the aid given them, hurried up the stairs to their apartments.
“That was fine of him, wasn’t it?” remarked Jack, as good-nights were being whispered.
“It sure was,” declared Tom, wishing more than ever that he could help the unhappy Senior.
“I wonder why the janitor wants to know Latin?” came from the human question mark.
“Oh, answer that in your dreams,” advised Tom.
From the fact that no mention was made of their little night excursion, Tom and the others concluded that the studious janitor had kept his pact with Bruce. The latter told Tom afterward that he was kept busy giving Latin instruction until nearly midnight.
“It was good of you,” said our hero.
“Oh, pshaw! I’m glad I can do somebody good,” was the rejoinder. That was Bruce Bennington’s way. As Reddy had said, the Senior was his own worst enemy.