"Peleg Snuggers, please," said the man meekly. "Excuse me, but I was sent to bring you to the Hall."
"Do we walk?" demanded Tom.
"No, sir; the carryall is out on the street, and my boy Pete has the wagon for your trunks."
"The trunks are already in the wagon," said Dick. "Come ahead."
"How many of you, please?" went on Peleg Snuggers.
"There is only one of me, thank you," answered Tom meekly.
"Don't joke me so early in the term, please," said the utility man pleadingly. "Goodness knows, I'll get more than my share between now and Christmas. I mean, how many it the party?"
"Five of us, Mr. Sluggrub."
"Snuggers, please; Peleg Snuggers—an easy name to remember when you get the swing of it, sir."
"To be sure, Smullers. Yes, there are exactly five of us," and
Tom winked at his companions.