“Well, he’s asked the President to transfer him here, so he can make some experiments with wireless and televises in the laboratory here. So I think he’ll be military instructor here. Is he nice?”
“Slickest chap that ever woggled a saber, Jack Adeler is,” said Poodle, and Hike agreed “You bet.”
“Well, say, some one was telling me—listen across there! they must be hazing the Freshmen good and plenty to-night; making them aviate, sounds like.”
“Hang the aviating—though I suppose that’s what we’ll get right along,” sighed Poodle. “Gwan about Lieutenant Adeler.”
“Well, some one was saying that he’s here already—came this afternoon, and that he’s staying at the Headmaster’s to-night.”
“I wonder why he hasn’t let us know?” wondered Hike.
“Probably wants to surprise us,” mused Poodle.
“Well,” said Hike, “I’ve got some unpacking to do, Mousey.”
“All right, so long you fellows. I’ll have to beat it and help the hazing, I guess.” And Mousey disappeared.
For the thousandth time Poodle declared that Hike was intolerably rude to poor Mousey, and for the thousandth time Hike declared, “Yuh, I know I’m beastly to him, but if you’d ever come in from a dusty practise game and seen Mousey hanging around and admiring, standing there like he was waiting for a hand-out—just when you felt grouchy anyway, why you’d want to kill him. He’d be here all the time if—”