"Why, it does seem easy," confessed Farley.
"It sounds foolish, now," grinned Darrin. "I'm beginning to feel ashamed of myself."
"Mr. Freeman," protested Page, "you've saved us from suicide, or some other gruesome fate."
"Then I'll drop in once in a while again," promised the first classman.
"But that will take time from your own studies," remonstrated Darrin generously.
"Not in the least. I won't come around before release. By the time a fellow reaches the first class, if he's going to graduate anyway, he doesn't have to study as hard as a youngster does. The man who reaches the first class has had all the habits of true study ground into him."
Darrin, Dalzell, Farley and Page were all in different sections in mathematics. When they recited, next day, it so happened that each was the man to have the "sticky fly paper" problem assigned to him by the instructor. Each of the quartette received a full "4" for the day's marking.
"Did you have any assistance with this problem, Mr. Darrin?" asked Dave's instructor.
"Yes, sir; a member of the first class tried to make it plain to me last night."
"He appears to have succeeded," remarked the instructor dryly.