"Hope? What do you mean?"
"That's the seminary for girls. Fine lot of girls there, waiting to see you, Philliam Willander."
"William Philander, please. So there is a girls' school here, eh? That's—ah—very nice. Yes, I like the girls—I always did. But, Tom, please don't call me—ah—Buttertub. I think it's horrid, don't you know."
"All right, Washtub, anything you say stands still," answered Tom cheerfully. "I wouldn't hurt your feelings for a million warts."
"There is the carriage for Brill," said Sam, pointing it out.
"Are you going with me?" asked the dude.
"No. We are not going back until this evening," explained Dick. "We'll see you later."
"Only one other student going with you," added Tom mischievously. "He's kind of queer, but I guess he won't hurt you." He had seen an innocent, quiet youth, named Smith, getting into the college turnout.
"Queer?" asked Tubbs.
"Yes. Gets fits, or something like that. He won't hurt you if you keep your hand to your nose."