"Well, you can get a pretty fair one in the village at Grove's. And--and
a pair of trousers if you want them."

March nodded, noncommittingly. They had reached the gymnasium.

"I'm going in for a shower," said West. "You'd better come along." March
shook his head.

"I guess not to-night. It's most supper time, and I want to read a
little first. Good-night."

"Good-night," answered West. "I'm awfully much obliged for what you did,
you know. Come and see me to-morrow if you can; Number 2 Hampton.
Good-night."

Joel March turned and retraced his steps to his dormitory. He found his
roommate reading at the table when he entered Number 34. Sproule looked
up and observed:

"I saw you with Outfield West a moment ago. It looks rather funny for a
'grind,' as you profess to be, hobnobbing with a Hampton House swell."

"I haven't professed to be a 'grind,'" answered Joel quietly, as he
opened his Greek.

"Well, your actions profess it. And West will drop you quicker than a
hot cake when he finds it out. Why, he never studies a lick! None of
those Hampton House fellows do."