And yet as Will Phelps glanced about the room its appearance was
pitifully bare. The furniture was of the plainest, the walls were bare
of pictures, there were none of the numerous pillows and other tokens of
the warm regard of friends that had accompanied himself and his
room-mate into the new life upon which they had entered. Apparently,
however, Hawley was as delighted over his surroundings as he and Foster
over theirs, perhaps even more, and Will was thoughtful for a moment as
he silently watched his newly made friend.

"How did you happen to come to Winthrop?" he inquired at last when the
task of settling the room was measurably complete and all four had
seated themselves on the rude wooden chairs which made up most of the
furnishings of the room.

"I didn't 'happen' to come." Somehow everything appeared to be a source
of enjoyment to Hawley, and questions or remarks were alike greeted with
a laugh.

"What made you, then?"

"Isn't Winthrop the best college in the United States?" demanded Hawley.

"Yes, or at least that's what my father thinks. He graduated here and it
may be that his opinion is a little prejudiced. Is that why you came?"

"Partly." Again Hawley laughed and closed one eye as he spoke.

"I can give a guess what the other reason was," said Foster.

"What was it?"