The registrar gave him one of the printed lists that the student had tried to give him a little while before, and turned to the next student in the line.
With his registration card in his pocket Scott felt more certain of himself again. He was not only a student, he was almost a junior, and if the other students in the halls had happened to notice him they would have seen a very different looking boy from the one who had gone in a half-hour before.
CHAPTER II
Armed with the list of rooming houses furnished him by the registrar Scott set out in search of a room. His stock of money was limited, and he regretted that his old chum, Dick Bradshaw, was not there to share his room, and incidentally his room rent. For to Scott, who had always lived at home, and never associated very closely with many other boys of his own age, the selection of a roommate was a problem which he considered would require much thought and a thorough knowledge of his intended partner. His New England conservatism kept him from even dreaming of going in with a stranger.
The search proved rather long and tiresome. The upper classmen had picked all the best rooms before they left in the spring the year before, and the assortment now available was not very attractive. Single rooms were hard to find at all and the prices something to inspire awe.
Scott approached a rather attractive little house which stood back in a pleasing yard something like the one at his home. The usual sign, “Rooms to Rent,” was not in sight, but he rang the bell and waited patiently for someone to answer it. Presently the door opened a crack and a silver-haired old lady eyed him curiously. Her face looked kindly enough but the sound of her voice made Scott almost jump.
“What do you want?” she snapped.
“I beg your pardon,” said Scott, “but can you tell me where there are any rooms to rent around here?”
“No.” Like the crack of a pistol.
“They seem to be rather hard to find,” Scott remarked apologetically.