taches were sprouting on
their upper lips.

"Oh, dear me!" gasped Ruth. "See what a crowd we have got to go
through. All those boys!"

"That's all right," Tom said, gruffly. "I'll see you to the stage.
There it stands yonder--and a jolly old scarecrow of a carriage it is,
too!"

He was evidently feeling somewhat flurried himself. He was going to
meet more than half the great school informally right there at the
station. They had gathered to meet and greet "freshmen."

But the car in which our friends rode stopped well along the platform
and very near the spot where the old, brown, battered, and dust-covered
stage coach, drawn by two great, bony horses, stood in the fall
sunshine. Most of the Academy boys were at the other end of the
platform.

Gil Wentworth, Tom's friend, had given young Cameron several pointers
as to his attitude on arrival at the Seven Oaks station. He had been
advised to wear the school uniform (he had passed the entrance
examinations two months before) so as to be less noticeable in the
crowd.

Very soon a slow and dirge-like chant arose from the cadets gathered on
the station platform. From the rear cars of the train had stepped
several boys in citizen's garb, some with parents or guardians and some
alone, and all burdened with more or less baggage and a doubtful air
that proclaimed them immediately "new boys." The hymn of greeting rose
in mournful cadence:

"Freshie! Freshie! How-de-do!
We're all waiting here for you.
Hold your head up!
Square each shoulder!
Thrust your chest out!
_Do_ look bolder!

Mamma's precious--papa's man--
Keep the tears back if you can.
Sob! Sob! Sob!
It's an awful job--
Freshie's leaving home and mo-o-ther!"

The mournful wailing of that last word cannot be expressed by mere
type. There were other verses, too, and as the new boys filed off into
the path leading up to the Academy with their bags and other
encumbrances, the uniformed boys, _en masse_, got into step behind them
and tramped up the hill, singing this dreadful dirge. The unfortunate
new arrivals had to listen to the chant all the way up the hill. If
they ran to get away from the crowd, it only made them look the more
ridiculous; the only sensible way was to endure it with a grin.

Tom grinned widely himself, for he had certainly been overlooked. Or,
he thought so until he had placed the two girls safely in the big
omnibus, had kissed Helen