"Well, baseball then. I thought it a wonderful place."
"O, it's a pretty good place," said Gleason, and then nothing loath to talk, particularly when Marjorie made the inquiries, he launched into a dazzling word picture of Yale and her glories. At the end of ten minutes he had made such progress with Marjorie that she readily accepted his invitation to take a promenade with him. From that moment the affairs of the Yale-Harvard track team, and even the more intimate concerns of his roommate began to decline from the zenith of his attentions. Marjorie was in the ascendency.
It was on the second day out that Frank Armstrong, noticing the Codfish's absence, had asked him where he kept himself, and was not at all satisfied with the answer he got. "The Codfish sitting around, thinking! Never!" said Frank to himself. And shortly after, Frank had ocular demonstration as to the real trouble. He met Codfish and Marjorie, and the former was so much absorbed that he didn't even see his roommate.
"By Jove!" cried Frank. "Wait till I see him!"
When the Codfish turned up that night in the stateroom, Frank pounced upon him.
"So you've been sitting around, thinking, have you?"
"Sure thing, thinking what I'd do next. I say, Frank, she's a pippin. Billie's an awful bore, but his kid sister is a peach, believe me!"
"I thought you were an out-and-out woman-hater."
"I used to be in my younger days," said the Codfish, earnestly, "but this Marjorie girl has certainly got me going. Some eyes, boy, some eyes."
"So, that's why you've been neglecting your poor roommate, is it? I thought you came over here to see that I had good attention and kept in training. I might be at almost anything, even enjoying a pipe in the smoking room with John Hasbrouck as far as you are concerned."