"My—ah—my hand to my nose?"
"Yes," went on Tom innocently. "You see, he has an idea that folks are smelling things. So if you keep your hand to your nose he will know you are not smelling anything, so he'll keep quiet."
"I don't—ah—know as I like that," stammered William Philander.
"Carriage for the college!" called the driver, approaching, and before he could say anything the Rovers had Tubbs in the turnout.
"Mr. Smith, Mr. Tubbs," said Dick, introducing the students. Smith bowed, and so did Tubbs. Then the hand of the dude went up to his nose and stayed there.
"Good-by! See you later!" cried Tom.
"Be careful," warned Sam, and tapped his nose.
"I—I think I'd—ah—rather walk," groaned Tubbs.
"It's too far," answered Dick. Then the carriage rolled away. As it passed out of sight they saw William Philander with his hand still tight on his olfactory organ.
"Wonder what Smith will think?" remarked Dick after the three brothers had had a good laugh over the sight.