“I go out the other door.” Rusty indicated the adjoining bedroom. “In fact,” he added with a twinkle, “I seldom use this entrance myself. I keep it locked until I am expecting a distinguished visitor.”
“Still, I don’t see how you knew I was with Stan,” Dick objected.
“You’ll have to ask Stan about that,” laughed Rusty.
“I told him,” explained Stanley, grinning.
“Oh! Then that’s why you were so anxious to come with me.” Dick fixed his room-mate with an accusing eye. “All right. I’ll get even with you, old son, if it takes my last—if it takes my last two pennies!” He looked quickly at Rusty, but there was nothing to show that the latter had grasped the allusion. “Maybe,” continued Dick, “you’d like to see them.” He fished the two cents from his pocket and held them forth. Stanley viewed them interestedly and so did Rusty.
“What’s the idea?” asked the former. “Do you mean that you’re down to those? Stony broke, Dick?”
Rusty’s innocent, uncomprehending expression remained and Dick began to think his suspicions wrong. “No, those are just—just pocket-pieces,” he answered flatly.
“Wouldn’t be very useful to you in a pinch,” observed his host. “Well, find seats, fellows. Hope you didn’t mind the reception, Bates. But I guess you didn’t. You look like a fellow who can take a joke.”
“No, I didn’t mind,” said Dick. “Guess I was too surprised to mind!” He looked about the room. “This is pretty comfortable, Crozier.”
“Not bad. I’ve had these rooms ever since my first year. Got two nice windows in front and one on the side there, and two more in the bedroom. Mrs. Spooner is a corking old soul, and doesn’t mind a bit of noise now and then.”