“The Welsh variety,” laughed Ricky. “They’re great with a mug of ale, they say, only I cut out the ale.”
“Same here,” admitted Joe. “Yes, I’ll go one. It’s made of cheese, isn’t it?”
“And other stuff. Great for making you dream. Come on, this is the Freshmen table over here. I was in this morning.”
“Do they have tables for each class.”
“They don’t—I mean the management doesn’t, but I guess it would be as much as your hair was worth to try to buck in where you didn’t belong. Know anybody here?”
“Not a soul—wish I did.”
“I didn’t when I came this morning, but there are some nice fellows at the Red Shack.”
“Red Shack?” Joe looked puzzled.
“Yes, that’s our hang-out. It’s painted red.”