Sid was not in the room when Phil and Tom entered. The latter took off his cherished blue tie, and placed it carefully away, probably in a place he would forget the next time he wanted it, while Phil made a point of sticking his garnet sleeve links in a box that contained everything from fish hooks to waxed ends for sewing ripped baseball covers.
“Well, I’m glad to-day’s over,” remarked Tom, as he threw himself in the old armchair, with a sigh of relief, “but it was lots of fun while it lasted. Still I didn’t exactly know what to do when that fellow showed up.”
“Same here, yet the girls got through all right. Trust them for a thing like that? Girls are queer creatures, anyhow.”
“You laughed at me when I said that last term,” remarked Tom, as Phil stretched out on the ancient sofa, raising a cloud of dust. “Well, to-day is done. I wonder what will happen to-morrow?”
“Same old grind. I’ve got to brush up a bit if I want to pass with honors. Guess I’ll do some boning to-night.”
“Yes, and I’ve got to arrange for some more baseball practice,” went on Tom. “I wonder where Sid is? I didn’t like the looks of that chap. And did you hear what he said about playing poker?”
“Yes, I’m afraid Sid’s in bad, in spite of what he says.”
There was a moment of silence, broken only by the ticking of the alarm clock. Then Tom resumed: