“I don’t think so,” replied Cotton. “I’ve only been here this Fall.”
“I mean before that,” said Harry. “Your face seems very familiar.”
“How about his manner?” asked The Duke innocently. Cotton flushed as he took his seat again.
“That’s an old joke,” he said contemptuously.
“How dear to my heart are the jokes of my childhood,” chanted The Duke. “When fond recollection presents them to view!”
Harry, looking polite and incredulous, sat down again, but every now and then he shot a puzzled glance at Cotton. The latter, however, appeared to have forgotten Harry’s existence after the introduction and steadily kept his eyes away from that youth. Soon after, Merriwell and Girard took their departure, followed later by Kirk and Simms. Cotton stayed on until at last The Duke, giving Gerald a look of despair, said good night. Cotton left with him, and as soon as the door was shut Harry broke out:
“I’d give a thousand dollars to know where I’ve seen that fellow!” he declared.
“That’s a lot of money,” yawned Gerald.
“Not if you say it quick. But honest, fellows, that chap bothers me. I know I’ve met him before and talked with him, but I can’t imagine where it could have been. You remember, Gerald, that day at practice I told you he looked familiar? Well, I was right. There’s—there’s some mystery about Cotton.”