“Oh, ho! Now who’s got a girl?” demanded Chet, suspiciously.
“Nobody, you amalgamated turnip. I’m going to write to dad, and settle this college business. Might as well make a decision now as later, I reckon.”
“We’ll have to sign soon, or it will be too late,” spoke Chet. “Those big colleges aren’t like the small prep. schools. They have waiting lists—at least for the good rooms in the campus halls. That’s where I’d like to go if I went to Yale—in Lawrance Hall, or some place like that, where I could look out over the campus, or the Green.”
“There are some dandy rooms in front of Lawrance Hall where you can look out over the New Haven Green,” put in Ben. “I was there once, and how I did envy those fellows, lolling in their windows on their blue cushions, puffing on pipes and making believe study. It was great!”
“Making believe study!” exclaimed Andy. “I guess they do study! You ought to see the stiff list of stuff on the catalog!”
“You got one?” asked Chet.
“Sure. I’ve been doping it out.”
“I thought you said you hadn’t decided where to go yet,” remarked Frank.
“Well, I have,” returned Andy, quietly.
“You have! When, for the love of tripe? You said a while ago—”