"Yes, that's Sam," went on the hack driver, with easy familiarity, "but nobody calls him that; do they, Toots?"
The other, who was helping to carry in Dick's trunk did not answer. Instead he whistled the bugle call for "Taps," or lights out.
"Do they, Toots?" repeated the hack driver.
"Do they what?" inquired the soldier, who seemed to be rather absent minded.
"Do they call you anything but Toots?"
"Nope. That's what they call me. I don't mind. I've almost forgotten what my real name is. Toots is good enough I expect."
"He's a queer chap," whispered the hackman to Dick, as our hero paid him. "Queer, but all right. He's a sort of general helper around the grounds. Well, good night. I'll see you again maybe, when some of the other lads begin to arrive. And then won't there be lively times! Wow! My! Oh my! But them students certainly know how to have fun!"
The hackman appeared to relish the prospect, and Dick could hear him chuckling to himself as he drove off in the darkness.
"Right this way, Mr. Hamilton," said Toots, which name we shall adopt for him. "I will find the colonel for you"
He stopped suddenly, straightened up, in spite of the suitcase which he was carrying, and gave a stiff military salute.
"Mr. Hamilton has arrived, sir," he said, and
