"I reckon Spanish is where he falls," chuckled Durville, when
Jordan spoke to him about it. "It's easy to make mistakes enough
on Spanish verbs and declensions to throw a fellow down and out.
That'll be Prescott's line."
"Of course," nodded Jordan. Yet Dick's enemy was very far from feeling hopeful that such would be the case.
"I never imagined the fellow could stick as long as he has," Jordan told himself disconsolately.
One night Anstey, just before the semi-ans., took a chance. Usually the Virginian was careful in matters of discipline. But now he invited a dozen members of his class to his room to discuss an "important matter."
"Going?" asked Durville of Jordan.
"I'm not invited, Durry," replied the other.
"I am, and I'm going."
"But you don't know the subject of the meeting?"
"No; that's what puzzles me," admitted Durville. "I'm wondering if it has anything to do with choosing the class ring, or selecting our uniforms for after graduation."
"You simpleton!" cried Jordan in disgust. "You don't see far, do you? Can't you guess what the meeting is to discuss?"