"I don't know either," sighed Amy. "I found a lot of truck in my room,
but I haven't seen the owner yet. The fellow who was in with me last
year has left school. Gone to live in China. Wish I could! I suppose the
fellow I draw will be a regular mutt." They had reached the corner of
Wendell, and Amy paused. "The dining room's in here. If you don't mind
waiting until I run up and wash a bit we'll eat together."

"I'd like to," answered Clint, "but I reckon I'll wash too."

He moved along with the other toward the next dormitory.

"Aren't you in Wendell?" asked Amy.

"No, this next one. Torrey, isn't it?"

"Torrence." Amy stopped and viewed him With sudden interest. "Say, what
number?"

"Fourteen."

"_Well, what do you know about that_?"

"What?" Clint faltered.

"Why--why--" Amy seized his hand and shook it vigorously. "Clint, I
want to congratulate you! I do, indeed!"

Clint smiled. "Thanks, Byrd, but what about?"