“See who what was?” asked Jimmy, glancing around blankly.
“The waiter, of course.”
“No, who was he? Charlie Chaplin?”
“Emerson, one of our fellows. You know him. A junior, I think.”
Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t know any Emerson, Mac. You mean the chap that’s waiting on us is an Alton fellow?”
“Sure! What did you think I kicked you for?”
“I thought you just wanted to show your love for me. What’s he doing here?”
“Waiting on table,” replied Stanley. “Haven’t you any eyes?”
“Yes, but I mean— Well, it seems a funny thing for an Alton fellow, doesn’t it?”