"The names of pretty nearly every one of our fellows are down under that subscription paper," he informed her. "I've made a copy of them all and the amounts opposite each name."
"This is wonderful," said Mrs. Hasbrouck, enthusiastically as she ran through the list. "Mr. McGregor $25; Mr. Armstrong $25; Mr. Wallace $10; Mr. Burrows $10; why, this is really wonderful. You will certainly get your reward for your kindness. I'll call the steward's attention to this, and suggest that he ought to collect to-day, for to-morrow will be our last day on shipboard, you know."
"Yes, I think he ought to get after them to-day. So much hurry and scurry on the last day that he might miss some of the contributions."
A little later consternation was thrown into the "contributors" to the Widows and Orphans Fund. A very businesslike young steward armed with a list, began his collections. Two or three of the collegians paid up without protest for they supposed such collections were the regular thing, but when the collector reached McGregor, who was still holding the fort with Marjorie in the shade of one of the lifeboats, he met a refusal.
"Twenty-five dollars for the Widows and Orphans Fund! I never heard of it before!" protested the "contributor."
"There must be a mistake, sir," said the steward, "you must have forgotten, your name is one of those on the subscription paper in the companionway bulletin board."
"My name on the paper? Quit your kidding."
"O, but it is, sir. I made a careful copy myself, sir, of all the names, and I'm sure I'm right."
"Then I must have done it in my sleep," exclaimed the puzzled McGregor. "Where is the bulletin board?"