"Stover," he said at last. "I have talked with the Doctor. He has seen best to approve of your election."
Dink, of course, perceiving the hesitation, went out gleefully, persuaded that the decision was gall and wormwood to his inveterate foe.
The last day of school ended. He drove to Trenton in a buggy with Tough McCarty as befitted his new dignity. He passed the Green House with a strange thrill. The humiliation of a year before had well been atoned, and yet the associations somehow still had power to rise up and wound him.
"Lord, you've changed!" said Tough, following his thoughts.
"Improved!" said Dink grimly.
"I was an infernal nuisance myself when I landed," said Tough, President of the Woodhull, evasively. "I say, Dink, next year we'll be licking the cubs into shape ourselves."
"That's so," said Stover. "Well, by this time next year I probably won't be so popular."
"Why not?"
"I'm going to put an end to a lot of nonsense," said Dink solemnly. "I'm going to see that my kids walk a chalk-line."
"So am I," said McCarty, with equal paternity. "What a shame we can't room together, old boy!"