“I got out of the Brewer game with only a bunged-up eye. It’s pretty sore but it doesn’t amount to anything. A Brewer chap gouged me with his elbow, I think. If you read this part to mother tell her that the Brewer game is the only rough one we have and that even if I should get into the Broadwood game, which isn’t likely, I won’t get hurt.
“I’m having a dandy time now. The fellows are awfully nice and I like the place first-rate. Tubby Jones and I are getting on real well together. He isn’t so bad when you understand him. His friends are worse than he is. There’s a fellow named Hiltz who is a great chum of Tubby’s and I can’t stand him at all. He comes from New York City and to hear him talk you’d think there wasn’t another city in the country.
“I’m going to the Pennimore’s for luncheon again to-day. They are awfully nice folks and Mr. Pennimore treats me just as if I was one of the family. It’s been very jolly having them to visit. Tell Mae that the dog is all right. He didn’t get burned at all. He’s a fine old fellow and he and I are great friends. I think he likes me almost as well as he does Gerald. I’m getting on pretty well with my studies, although I’m rather busy nowadays with football. After the Broadwood game I’ll have more time. I’m not shirking anything, though; they won’t let you do that here. Wednesday I’m going to the Cambridge Society with Alf Loring. He’s going to introduce me to the fellows. He says the best fellows in school belong to Cambridge. Now I must stop and get ready for Sound View. Give lots of love to mother and Mae. I’m getting sort of shy of cash, so when you write you had better let me have a small advance on my December allowance. With much love, Dan.
“P. S. It snowed here last night, not much but enough to cover the ground. Now it is warm and sunny again and the snow is almost gone. They say it gets very cold here in February.”
Dan had been excused from church attendance on account of the injury sustained in yesterday’s game. It was only a black eye—although Loring declared that it was green and purple and red instead of black—but there was a bandage around it and Dan didn’t consider himself presentable enough for church. So he had put in the time writing to his father. As he had the room to himself and a vast quiet reigned over the dormitory he had been able to scrawl off twelve pages without difficulty. But the only portion of the letter of interest to us was that quoted. After he had finished his exciting post-script he sealed and addressed the letter and got ready for his visit to Sound View.
He dropped the letter into the box in front of Oxford and then went swinging down the hill, across the bridge and into the woods. Gerald and he had contrived a short cut by loosening two of the palings in the fence back of the stables. It was a tight squeeze, but you could make it all right if you didn’t care much what happened to your buttons. Mr. Pennimore and Gerald had not yet returned from church, said the butler when Dan reached the house, but would be back in a few moments. So Dan found a warm, sunny corner of the terrace and perched himself on the balustrade and swung his feet and whistled until the car came into sight down the avenue.
“That’s one thing that’s the matter with Gerald,” said Dan to himself with a disapproving shake of his head. “He rides around too blamed much in that automobile. He’d be a lot better if he did more walking.” Then he jumped down and went to meet his hosts at the steps.
“Dan, Dan, what do you think?” cried Gerald as he leaped out of the car. Dan shook his head smilingly as he gave his hand to Mr. Pennimore.
“I’m going to Yardley! Father’s consented! And I’m going right away!”
“Well, not exactly,” corrected his father pleasantly.