"And a bouquet of flowers," added Sam. He knew that Grace loved flowers.
"Yes. I didn't forget them, Sam."
The boys arrived in Ashton a little ahead of time, and while waiting for the chauffeur of the car to appear they walked down to the depot to see if there would be any new arrivals on the Saturday special.
When the train pulled into the depot a tall, well-dressed youth, with an elaborate dress-suit case and a bag of golf sticks, descended from the parlor car and gazed around him wonderingly.
"Are you—ah—sure this is—ah—Ashton?" he inquired of the porter.
"Yes, sah," was the brisk answer.
"Not a—ah—very large place, is it, now?" drawled the passenger.
"Look who's here!" burst out Tom as he hurried forward.
"Why, it's Tubbs—William Philander Tubbs!" ejaculated Sam.
And sure enough, it was Tubbs, the most dudish pupil Putnam Hall had ever known, and one with whom the cadets had had no end of fun.
"My dear old Buttertub, how are you?" called out Tom loudly, and caught the new arrival by
