"Honk--Honk!" To the incessant blaring of a raucous horn, old Dan
Flannagan's jitney-bus moved up the driveway. The genial Irish Jehu, who
for over twenty years had transported Bannister collegians and alumni
to and from College Hill in a ramshackle hack drawn by Lord Nelson, an
antiquated, somnambulistic horse, had yielded to modern invention at
last. Lord Nelson having become defunct during vacation, Old Dan, with
a collection taken up by several alumni at Commencement, had bought a
battered Ford, and constructed therewith a jitney-bus. This conveyance was
fully as rattle-trap in appearance as the traditional hack had been, but
the returning collegians hailed it with glee.

"All hail Hicks!" howled Butch Brewster, beside himself with joy,
"Altogether--the Bannister yell for--Hicks!"

With half the collegians giving the yell, a number shouting
indiscriminately, the Bannister Band blaring furiously, "Behold, The
Conquering Hero Comes," with the youths a yelling, howling, shrieking,
dancing mass, old Dan Flannagan, adding his quota of noises with the
Claxon, brought his bus to a stop. This was a hilarious spectacle in
itself, for on its sides the Bannister students had painted:

HENRY FORD'S "PIECE-OF-A-SHIP," THE DOVE! ALL RIDING IN THIS JIT DO
SO AT THEIR OWN RISK! TEN CENTS FOR A JOY-RIDE TO COLLEGE HILL! YES,
IT'S A FORD! WHAT DO YOU CARE? GET ABOARD!

On the roof of "The Dove," or "The Crab," as the collegians called it when
it skidded sideways, perched precariously that well-known, beloved youth,
T. Haviland Hicks, Jr. He clutched his pestersome banjo and was vigorously
strumming the strings and apparently howling a ballad, lost in the