It was no credit to Simeon's discernment to make this statement. One of the youths he looked at so enviously had the sophomoric earmarks, and the other had a new hat-box with his initials plainly marked on the top, which would have pronounced him a junior to the initiated. Each, however, carried a silver-headed stick.
"There's my old room," spoke up one of these two as Witherspoon Hall came into sight. He made this remark with the air of returning as an old man to the haunts of his youth.
"I wired Hiram to meet me at the station and take my bags," said the other. "What do you think of the freshmen?"
They glanced boldly into the faces that lined both sides of the car.
"Fruit," said one of them. "Did you notice the big fellow down the aisle? He looks as if he might play football, don't you think?"
"Pretty good build for it," was the rejoinder. Mr. Congreve, who had overheard the conversation, turned about. Directly behind him sat a broad-shouldered figure. The little black satin tie caught under the bone collar button
