you sure they're his," said Pellams, seriously. "I've seen them
with him on the Quad, but I thought perhaps he'd borrowed them for
effect, to keep off the Senior girls."

"The year he came here the Beta Phis tried to rush him, didn't they?"
asked Smith. Duncan scowled across the table at the Sophomore. This was
Haviland's first day at the house; they could josh other frats later, if
he came their way; just now it was a break.

Ted Perkins interrupted tactfully. "Have some of this Spanish goo? The
English department here is crazy on theatricals. They will probably want
you for a grand revival of the Comedy of Errors."

"If I were you," came in Smith, to cover up his slip, "I would go over
and draw his salary some day. They would pay it all right if they didn't
look twice and ask questions."

"Better look out," added Pellams, in his solemn drawl, "those babies of
his will be claiming you in the Quad in front of all Roble some sunny
day, and then you might just as well leave college!"

This table-talk gave the men an idea for a nickname, and so, when they
knew the Freshman a little better, they slipped an arm through his and
called him "Professor." It was really the most civilized nickname in the
house.

One Thursday, at football practice, about two weeks after Haviland had
agreed to join, Pellams spoke to him.

"Professor, on Saturday night you are to be initiated. Bring over your
suit-case with a change of under-clothes and a pair of old shoes."

"I was going up to San Francisco on Saturday," murmured Haviland, his
heart beating a bit faster, "but----"

"You have changed your mind," finished Pellams, quietly. "We will have
dinner as usual, and you will be on time, please. So long, Professor."

Haviland was not wholly at peace as he walked back to the dormitory. A
Freshman never becomes especially hilarious in anticipating his
initiation night; there is an uncertain certainty about it that he
cannot entirely laugh away, however much natural bravery he may have,
however hoary he may be in high school fraternity experience. At the
chapter house, where things have been made so pleasant, careless remarks
are dropped, full of sinister meaning. It is not nearly so comfortable
there now, and Freshman Damocles wishes the suspense were over.

When the fateful Saturday dawned, Walter had a strong impulse to go to
the city as he had originally planned. Pellams had explained to him that
his having held out so long before