As it turned out, the Dean was merciful and Pete was merely placed upon probation—a fact which appeared to amuse him vastly.
“It’s just like old times,” he explained to Allan and Hal, the latter having come in to recount the wonderful things which had happened to him during his visit home. “Out in Colorado, I was most always on probation. Used to feel downright lonesome when I wasn’t.”
“That’s all well enough,” said Hal, “but you want to be careful, for old Levett’s the very dickens if you get too gay with him. First thing you know, you won’t know anything.”
“Don’t now,” answered Pete, promptly and cheerfully. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if something did drop. The fact is—” he hesitated, sighed dolefully, and shook his head, “the fact is, I’ve been feeling lately that something unpleasant is going to happen to me. I guess it’s a—a premonition.”
His tone was quite sad, and Allan and Hal stared at him in silent surprise. Then—
“What’s the matter with you, you idiot?” asked Allan.
“Nothing; I dare say it’s just foolishness, but somehow—” He sighed again. “Well, that’s all right,” he went on, with an evident effort at cheerfulness. “Have a good time, Hal?”
“You’re off your feed, that’s what’s the matter with you,” said Hal, severely. “Your liver’s out of whack. Better see the doctor.”
“What’s probation, anyway?” asked Allan, lightly. “It’s likely to happen to any one.”
“It isn’t that,” Pete replied, dolefully. “But I don’t want to talk of my troubles,” he continued, with martyr-like complacency. “Tell us what you did, Hal.”