“Yes,” the old lady fired at him as she slammed the door. “I guess the people in this park want to live in their own houses.”
Scott gazed at the closed door in astonishment. “Well,” he thought, “there is one thing sure—I should hate to live in yours.”
He was becoming discouraged, and was turning wearily away from the twelfth house—almost the last one on his list—when he nearly collided with a young fellow who was bounding up the front steps three at a jump.
The landlady took pity on Scott’s weary look, and addressed herself to the newcomer. “Mr. Johnson, do you know of any place where this young man can find a room?”
The young man turned abruptly and ran his eye frankly over Scott. “What’s your course?” he asked.
“Forestry,” Scott answered, wondering what that had to do with it.
“Sure I do,” said Johnson. “Come on in with me. That’s my course and I am looking for a bunkie. Come on up and leave your suitcase and then you can see about your trunk.”
Scott gazed with astonishment at this new species of being who would take on a second’s notice a roommate whose very name he did not know. But that confident and carefree young gentleman was already leading the way up the stairs without a doubt as to the issue. Scott looked at the landlady to see what effect such a sudden proposition had made on her. He expected to find her wide-eyed and agape with astonishment; instead of that she had closed the front door and was disappearing down the hall. He would certainly have backed out if he had known how, but both the landlady and the stranger seemed to be so certain the deal was closed, that Scott, dazed by the swift passage of events and seeing no possible way out, followed helplessly up the stairs.
“Maybe,” he thought, “it’s one of those dens you read about in the newspaper where young fellows are roped in in this way and robbed. If it is they will need more than that red-headed guy to do it. Dick could lick the shoes off of him and Dick never could box. They would not get very much if they succeeded,” he grinned, “the railroads already have most of it.”
When he entered the room indicated he found his new acquaintance already seated in a revolving chair near the table, reading a large poster. Without raising his eyes from the paper Johnson said, “You may have the two lower drawers of the bureau, I already have my stuff in the others, and the right hand side of the closet. Better go back to the registrar’s office and tell them where to bring your trunk; they charge you storage awful quick at the depot.” And he continued to read the poster.