“Sanderson, I’ve got every note of importance, and have worked up every single picture!”
Then the yawning fellow would turn over to me, lift up his fez in the politest manner and say, with his endearing smile:
“Oh, is that so! Then Priddy, I shan’t need to bother much myself, shall I? You can give me some fine dope on the course!”
Seeing that I was caught, there was no way out of it but to become the unofficial tutor to his lazy highness; a duty, however, which was pleasant enough, for we had so many things in common. There was a sense of embarrassment, however, in the fact that Sanderson would go into the examinations of the course, after I had prompted him, and by some freak of the angel of Providence, his guardian spirit, he would out-top me with marks!
One Monday morning I dropped into his room, on my way across the campus, when he came from his bedroom arrayed in his bath-robe, for he had been oversleeping, and he said to me,
“Congratulations, Priddy!”
“What’s this for?” I exclaimed.
“For the honorable winner of two literary prizes!” he exclaimed.
“Two?” I gasped.
“Yes, and firsts, my friend! I want to get in on the ground floor and get a college ice on the prize money,” he smiled.