“But it’s the true way,” said Will glibly.  “There’s one thing I’m mighty glad of for Peter John’s sake.”

“What is it?”

“That he rooms with Hawley.  I don’t believe the sophs will bother him very much.”

“Not when Hawley’s on hand.”

“You think they will when he’s not?”

“Yes, sir, I do.  Peter John just invites them.  It stands right out on his face.”

“Sort of a standing invitation, so to speak?” laughed Will Phelps.  “Well, for my part, I hope he won’t be too fresh.  There’s everything in that, you know.”

“And therefore we’ll go scot free?”

“Well, Hawley is a great fellow anyway; and I’m glad he’s in our class.”

“He’s big, anyway.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No you didn’t, you said great.”

“Same thing.”

“Not much.  A man can be big without being great, can’t he?  Caesar and Napoleon were not big men, but I think you’d sum up that they were great.”

“Great butchers, if that’s what you mean.  You always spin it out too fine for me, Foster.”

Foster Bennett laughed and both boys entered their room to prepare for dinner.  They still were taking their meals at the hotel, as their boarding-place had not been selected.  In the thoughts of both it was a selection of too much importance to be made hastily, and they were therefore waiting until they became more familiar with the details of their new life.

It was all novel and interesting, and on the following day the first class meeting was held.  A dignified junior presided at the meeting, and after explaining what was expected and that the class officers to be selected were to serve only for a month, when it was thought that the members of the class would have become sufficiently acquainted with one another to enable them to act with becoming wisdom, he called for nominations for class president.

Peter John Schenck immediately arose and said, “I nominate Hawley.”

The nomination was seconded, and there were calls for Hawley to step to the platform and stand where all the class could see him.  The young giant obediently advanced and taking his place beside Spencer, who also was nominated for the office, awaited the verdict.  There were cheers when it was announced that Hawley had won, and the junior then called for nominations for secretary and treasurer.

Again Peter John arose to the occasion and said, “I nominate Phelps.”

Will’s face flushed scarlet at the unexpected words but his room-mate at once had seconded the nomination, and he was compelled to advance to the platform and stand beside Farmer and McVey, whose names were also presented for the same office.  There was some confusion for a time, but quiet was restored when the result of the ballot was announced.

CHAPTER IV

A CLOUD OF WITNESSES