Rex was so overwhelmed that he nearly lost his balance. But he recovered himself in an instant, and his natural repose of manner asserted itself.
“Yes, indeed,” he answered. “I was wondering if you had a wheel. Most fellows have one nowadays.”
“Oh, this isn’t mine. It’s one I hired. I keep mine at New Haven.”
“Oh, you’re a Yale man then,” exclaimed Rex, prouder than ever at having formed this acquaintance.
“Yes, go back next week,” was the answer. “And glad enough I’ll be, too. It’s fearfully slow here at this time of year. Nobody back in town I know. Wouldn’t have been myself, only the governor fell sick and I didn’t want the mater to come on alone with him.”
“What are you—senior?” inquired Rex respectfully.
“Oh, bless you no, only sophomore. By the way, you have just moved into that house next door, haven’t you?”
“Yes, about three weeks ago.”
“Well, there was a stupid lot enough there before you. A set of old maids, most of ’em. You must be sociable and come in to see a fellow. We’ve a pool table. You play—look out there!”
Rex was glad a man in a buggy stopped suddenly in front of him just then, calling for this diversion in subject. He did not know how to play pool and did not care to confess the fact just then.