"There's too much else to interest them," he said to Norse, one morning in the State Street Billiard Hall. "If they were up to any stunts we'd have heard before this, with the banquet coming off day after to-morrow. It's all easy sailing, thanks to the ice."
Norse, however, was not so certain. "You can't tell," he said, with a significant wag of his head. "Maybe this keeping-still now means action at the last minute. What do your own freshmen say?"
"There's not one in the frat. who thinks they'll attempt anything," Kerwin replied. "And as for the sophomores, they say there's too much going on for them to waste time fooling with a dinky freshman toastmaster."
Norse's doubts were not, however, to be so easily dispelled. "You'd better keep an eye out," he advised. "I'll help you all I can. If I get next to anything I'll let you know."
But neither that day nor the day after did he hear a word that sounded in the least suspicious, but on Friday he did; and thus wise:
At noon he met Kerwin again in the billiard hall.
The toastmaster drew him to one side. "I'm fixed," he whispered with a grin of satisfaction.
"How?" Norse asked.
"Got my dress suit hid."