A few days later Grit arrived, and he was probably the happiest dog living, as Dick took him out of the shipping crate. The animal bounded about, and fairly leaped over his master's head in the excess of his joy.
Grit made friends with such few chums as Dick had among the freshmen, and they were not many, for Dutton's influence seemed even to extend to them. The advent of the bulldog appeared to further arouse the ire of the young captain.
"I expect our millionaire cadet will be having a private menagerie next," he said with a sneer. "But I tell you one thing, Hamilton, if I catch the brute around my quarters I'll kick him out."
"I shouldn't advise you to try it," said Dick coolly. "It might not be healthy—for you."
"Do you mean that you'd attack me?" asked Dutton, taking a step toward Dick.
"No, but Grit might; eh, Grit, old boy."
The dog growled in a menacing manner, and Dutton, turning on his heel, made off up the campus, but the scowl he gave Dick augured anything but well for the young millionaire.
It was about a week after this when, one evening, Dick, who was sitting in his room, studying with Paul, suddenly exclaimed:
"There, I've left my algebra out under the three elms. I was studying there this afternoon."
The three elms were a clump of giant trees on the campus, and a recognized stamping ground for the freshmen, who frequently studied there, when it was too hot in their rooms.