“What’s it like?” Dixon asked. “The house is all broke up about Dick.”
“I’ve just been to see Prexy. Dick’s going to have another chance.”
“Why, you bully old stick-in-the-mud!” roared Dixon. “We sent a delegation to Prexy this morning, but it didn’t get anywhere, just because we’re Dick’s frat brothers, and it was expected that we’d leg for him as a matter of course. What did Prexy say?”
“Said the faculty would review Dick’s case—with a recommendation to mercy.”
“Glory be! that means that he won’t have to go home. Come on and I’ll chase you up to his room. He’s packing up, right now.”
Dixon was right. When Larry was pushed into an upstairs room of the fine old country-town mansion that had been remodeled into a fraternity house he found Dick on his knees before an open trunk. Dixon merely shoved Larry into the room and then backed out and disappeared. Dick squatted back on his heels and said, “So you broke in, did you? I thought maybe you’d come around to see me disappear over the horizon.”
“Hold up a minute,” gasped Larry breathlessly. “Have you wired your father?”
Dick shook his head.
“Not yet; I’ve been putting it off—like a coward. Wally Dixon has staked me to enough to get home on. I thought I’d rather tell Dad face to face, but I can’t do that, either. The faculty letter’ll get there before I do.”