“He was all right, don’t you worry! I told him about you and he said a few things you ought to have heard! His name isn’t Harold——”
“What? You don’t mean that we got into the wrong room!” exclaimed Rusty incredulously. “Wasn’t it Harold Jones’ room, Sandy?”
“You know mighty well whose room it was!” answered the other indignantly. “That’s all right! I’ll get even with you! I’ll——”
“Oh, I am sorry!” declared Rusty miserably. “Such an awkward mistake to make. I don’t see how I could have been so stupid! Whatever can I do to show my contrition, Sandy?”
By this time most of the fellows within hearing were listening eagerly and amusedly, and it dawned on Sandy that he was making a mistake to advertise the joke. “Never mind your contrition,” he growled in a lower voice, “I’ll fix you, Crozier. Don’t think you can get away with it.” His eyes swept the grinning or amused faces of Rusty’s companions. “You make me sick, anyway, the whole lot of you!” he added. “If I tell Jud what you did, Crozier, you won’t think it’s so funny!” With which veiled threat he swung angrily away and the car door crashed resoundingly behind him.
Blash and Stanley were somewhat sobered, but Rusty still beamed. “I wonder what Summer did say!” he chuckled. “I wish I knew!”
“Look here,” said Stanley, “you don’t suppose he will go to Jud, do you? You know, Rusty, Jud’s a bit down on you!”
“He won’t. He knows that if he did I’d beat him to a stiff froth! Anyhow, what of it? Jud will only appreciate my kindness of heart. It wasn’t really my fault if we stumbled into the wrong room.”
“That won’t go with Jud,” said Blash, shaking his head. “Still, I don’t believe Sandy will blab. What say, Gus? Oh, he was sort of peeved over something that happened.” Blash turned to Gus Stone, who was leaning over the back of the seat. “You know how Sandy is. Thinks fellows are trying to put something over on him.”
“What was it?” persisted Stone, smiling broadly in anticipation.