“I'm going to as soon as I get to my room.”
“Say, I tell you what,” went on Kendall. “My joint’s just around the corner, and I’ve got a prime liniment to rub on. Suppose you come in and I’ll give you some.”
“Glad to,” agreed Joe. “I don’t believe I’ve got a bit at my shack, and the drug stores are all closed.”
“Come along then—here, lean on me,” and Kendall proffered his arm, for which Joe was grateful.
“Here we are,” announced Kendall a little later, as they turned into a building where some of the wealthier students had their rooms. “Sorry it’s up a flight.”
“Oh, I can make it,” said Joe, keeping back an exclamation of pain that was on his lips.
“We’ll just have a look at it,” continued his new friend. “I’ve known a strain like that to last a long while if not treated properly. A little rubbing at the right time does a lot of good.”
Joe looked in delight at the room of his newly found friend. It was tastefully, and even richly, furnished, but with a quiet atmosphere differing from the usual college apartment.
“You’ve got a nice place here,” he remarked, thinking that, after all, there might be more to Yale life than he had supposed.
“Oh, it’ll do. Here’s the stuff. Now off with your shoe and we’ll have a look at that ankle. I’m a sort of doctor—look after the football lads sometimes. Are you trying for the eleven?”