“I wish he was at home,” ended Bert with a gulp. “I thought I was going to have a good time this year—a decent room with a fellow I liked, not many studies, plenty of time for football and hockey, and—and—now look at me! Stuck up here among the pills with a silly little runt of a country kid for roommate! Oh, a nice cheerful fourth year I shall have!”
“Oh, quit your yowling!” said the other good-naturedly. “You don’t know what Dana will be like. For my part I’m ready to like him, if only because you’ve run him down so. I dare say he will prove to be a very decent sort.”
“Oh, decent enough, maybe; but if he’s anything like what he used to be, he’ll just sit here and read his old books all day and make me nervous. Maybe he’ll turn out a grind!”
“But he can’t be so awfully fond of staying indoors and reading if he was captain of his football team.”
“Shucks! I’ll bet I know what sort of football he plays! His team probably averaged a hundred and twenty pounds and played back of the village livery stable. I’m going to have the dustpan ready to sweep up the hayseed when he takes his hat off!”
“Well, he will be here in a minute,” laughed Harry, “and then we’ll know the worst. If he’s as bad as you picture him, I don’t blame you for being——”
He was interrupted by a knock at the door. The two exchanged questioning glances, and then Bert called “Come in!” The door swung open and a tall, well-built youth entered, set down a suit case, and looked inquiringly from Harry to Bert.
[“I’m looking for Bert Middleton,” he announced], “and I guess you’re the chap, aren’t you?” He looked smilingly at Bert, who had arisen from his chair and was observing the newcomer with a puzzled frown.
