Although the apartment was not, perhaps, as luxurious as a college
room, it was nevertheless entirely comfortable, for the Colversham
School boasted among its members not only boys of moderate means but
the sons of some of the richest families in the country. It aimed to
be a democratic institution, and in so far as this was possible it
was; the school, however, was richly endowed and therefore its every
appointment from its perfectly rolled tennis courts to its instructors
and the Gothic architecture of its buildings was of the best.

Van Cortlandt Blake, whose father was a western manufacturer, had by
pure chance stumbled upon Bob Carlton the day the two had alighted
from the train and stood helpless among the new boys on the station
platform, awaiting the motor-car which was to meet them and carry
them up to the school. Before the five mile ride was finished and
the automobile had turned into the avenue of Colversham the boys had
agreed to room together. Bob came from New York City. He was younger
than Van, slender, dark, and very much in earnest; he might even
have passed for a grind had it not been for his sense of humor and
his love for skating and tennis. As it was he proved to be a master
at hockey, as the school team soon discovered, and before he had
been a week at Colversham his classmates also found that he was most
loyal in his friendships and a lad of unusual generosity.

Van Blake was of an entirely different type. Big, husky, happy-go-lucky--a
poor student but a right jolly companion; a fellow who could pitch
into any kind of sport and play an uncommonly good game at almost anything.
More than that, he could rattle off ragtime untiringly and his nimble
fingers could catch up on the piano any tune he heard whistled. What
wonder he speedily became the idol of Colversham? He was a born leader,