averred, heard the sound of a faintly sung song. There was such an atmosphere of warmth and hominess and cheer about the quaint abode that Kewpie lagged noticeably and would have welcomed a suggestion from his companion that they stop a moment and say "Hello" to the occupant. But it was close to supper-time and Laurie went sternly on, refusing to notice Kewpie's deep sigh.
They reached the entrance of the dormitory just as Ned got there. Ned carried his golf-bag and was very wet indeed. Laurie viewed him commiseratingly. "You poor forlorn fish," he said. "Don't tell me you've been playing golf a day like this!"
"Sure have," answered Ned cheerfully. "Won, too. Had Peyton three up on the seventh, too, old son."
"Well, you certainly are a nut! Didn't either of you know it was raining?"
"Didn't you?" countered Ned. "Look at your own shoes!"
"We," replied Laurie with dignity, "were engaged in a sensible and important occupation, not merely amusing ourselves!"
