When Irving introduced Lawrence to them, Westby said,—

“We hoped we were going to see you here, but we were afraid you might
have to eat outside with your team.”

“Oh, I got special permission from the captain for this occasion,” said
Lawrence. “I’m afraid I’m depriving somebody of his seat,” he added to
Irving.

“It’s Caldwell—I arranged with him about it. He’s gone to Mr. Randolph’s
table.”

“Besides, he’s only a Fourth Former,” said Westby.

Lawrence laughed. “You’re Sixth, I suppose?” Westby nodded. “Going to
Harvard next year?”

“Yes.”

“Good for you. I’ll tell you one thing; you couldn’t have a better man
to get you in than this brother of mine—if I do say it. He tutored me
for Harvard—and I guess you’ve never had a worse blockhead, have you,
Irv?”

“Oh, you were all right in some things, Lawrence.”

“I’d like to know what. How I used to try your patience, though!”
Lawrence chuckled, then turned and addressed the boys, especially Westby
and Carroll, as they were the oldest. “Did any of you ever see him mad?”