"Run up and get some dry duds on," suggested Frank. "Are you sure you're all right, and don't need a doctor to look you over?"
"Oh, sure I'm all right," insisted Billy. "What do you think I am—a chronic doctor's patient? First I get a whack over the head that lays me out, and then I'm nearly drowned. I wonder when this 'hoodoo' is going to let up?"
"That's right, you have had more than your share," admitted Andy, with a grin.
Billy ran on toward his dormitory, while Andy and Frank remained behind to tell further details of the rescue. Later they joined their new chum in his room, where they found him drinking hot lemonade which the motherly matron, Mrs. Stone, had sent up to him when she heard about the accident.
"Oh, say, that smells good!" exclaimed Frank, sniffing the air.
"Have some," invited Billy, but when Andy tasted it he made a wry face, for the matron had not made it any too sweet, and she had put some ginger in it to further aid in warding off a possible cold.
"Talk about your ice cream sodas!" exclaimed Andy. "Got anything to take the taste of that out of my mouth, Billy?"
"There's a box of crackers on that shelf," replied the host. "They belong to Ray Bentley, my roommate, but go ahead and help yourself. He won't mind. We use each other's things anyhow. I've got some of his clothes on now. He took my best suit—gone to see some girl, I guess."
"Very likely—at the golf match," remarked Frank, while Andy helped himself to the crackers. "But most of the fellows are back from there."
"Oh, Ray'll stay until the last cow comes home when there's a girl in the offing," said Billy, as he took another glass of the hot lemonade. "There, I feel better," he said. "I'm warmed through. Say, I can't thank you fellows enough for pulling me out of the wetness, but——"