and ball. After four sets, Roy and Chub had induced a certain amount of modesty in their opponents, having won three out of the four. Dick, meanwhile, went down in defeat before a curly-haired sub-freshman. They had luncheon at the hotel and went sailing afterward in some one’s sloop. (It was at no time apparent whose boat it was, for out of the sixteen fellows who had crowded aboard, only one hesitated to give orders, and that one only because he became seasick as soon as the yacht left her moorings.) There was more tennis after the cruise was completed, in which Dick found a foe he could triumph over. Then they went back to the neglected Slow Poke and “brushed up” for dinner.
“This social life is truly exciting,” observed Chub, strolling into the forward cabin with a whisk broom in his hand. “Has anyone a nice red tie to lend me?”
No one had, it seemed. Dick ventured the opinion that a red tie was not a proper adjunct to a dinner costume, and that precipitated a discussion that lasted until they were ready to climb the hill to the hotel, Chub asserting that with a blue serge
