"Well, I'll wager you're pretty hungry," a cheery voice called.

"Hungry, Mother! We're starved--hollow down to our shoe-strings!"
Swinging himself out upon the steps Bob bent and kissed his mother.
"Mother, this is my roommate, Van Blake," he added.

"I'm very glad to see you, Van," Mrs. Carlton said, putting both her
hands into those of the big fellow who smiled down at her. "How
strange it is that although you and Bob are such friends and he is
continually talking and writing of you that you and I should never
have met!"

"I don't just know how it's happened, Mrs. Carlton," Van answered.
"It seems as if the times you've been at the school to visit I've
either been away or shut up in the infirmary with chicken-pox or
something. I'm great at catching diseases, you know--I get
everything that's going. Father says he thinks I can't bear to let
anything get by me."

He laughed boyishly.

"Speaking of fathers, where's Dad, Mater?"

"He stopped to put another log on the fire. Come in and see what a
blaze we have ready for you."

The two boys followed her into the hall, while David staggered at
the rear of the procession with the luggage.