"By, old dear! Here's where I go and lose a finger!"
Ned climbed to the second floor of East Hall and made his way along the corridor to No. 16. The door was ajar, and when he had pushed it open he discovered Kewpie Proudtree stretched at length on the window-seat. It was no unusual thing to find Kewpie in possession of No. 16, for he appeared to like it fully as well as his own quarters across the way, if not better. Kewpie laid down the magazine he had been examining and laboriously pulled himself to a sitting posture.
"Hello, Nid," he greeted. "Where's Nod?" It was Kewpie who had tagged those quaint nick-*names on the Turner twins, and he never failed to use them.
"Gym," answered Ned. "Practice."
"What! What time is it? And here I've been wasting my time waiting for him!"
"Too bad about your time! Get your cap, and let's go over to the field."
But Kewpie shook his head sadly, relapsing against the cushions. "I'm not feeling very well, Nid," he said plaintively.
