“Who’s Harry?” inquired Tom.
“Young Merrow, Arthur’s roommate and fidus,” Dan replied.
“Fido would be better,” laughed Gerald. “He’s always at Arthur’s heels. I’ll bet you persuaded him to try for the Cross-Country Team, Arthur, so you could get away from him a minute.”
“You guessed it, son. I’m going over to Oxford. Anyone coming my way?”
Tom Roeder decided that his path led in that direction and the two boys departed together. After they had gone Dan asked:
“Did you mean that about young Merrow, Gerald? I thought he was a bit of a duffer.”
“He was. Arthur used to have to drive him out of the room every afternoon to make him take exercise. But Arthur seems to have knocked some sense into him somehow. I was awfully surprised last week when I found him out for the Cross-Country Team. He told me yesterday that he’d never done anything but play a little tennis, but he’s taken hold in good shape.”
“I suppose,” observed Dan, “that Merrow is Arthur’s penalty for heroism.”
“That’s right. Ever since Arthur pulled Harry out of the lake that time Harry’s stuck to him like a brother.”