“You let me up!” Fred gasped.

“You take your solemn oath to shut up?  You goin’ to swear it?”

“All right.  I give my solemn oath,” said Fred; and they rose, arranging their tousled attire.

“Well,” said Fred, “when you goin’ to call on her?”

“You look here!” Ramsey approached him dangerously.  “You just gave me your sol—­”

“I beg!” Fred cried, retreating.  “I mean, aside from all that, why, I just thought maybe after such an evening you’d feel as a gentleman you ought to go and ask about her health.”

“Now, see here—­”

“No, I mean it; you ought to,” Fred insisted, earnestly, and as his roommate glared at him with complete suspicion, he added, in explanation.  “You ought to go next Caller’s Night, and send in your card, and say you felt you ought to ask if she’d suffered any from the night air.  Even if you couldn’t manage to say that, you ought to start to say it, anyhow, because you—­ Keep off o’ me!  I’m only tryin’ to do you a good turn, ain’t I?”

“You save your good turns for yourself,” Ramsey growled, still advancing upon him.

But the insidious Mitchell, evading him, fled to the other end of the room, picked up his cap, and changed his manner.  “Come on, ole bag o’ beans, let’s be on our way to the ‘frat house’; it’s time.  We’ll call this all off.”

“You better!” Ramsey warned him; and they trotted out together.

But as they went along, Fred took Ramsey’s arm confidentially, and said, “Now, honestly, Ram, ole man, when are you goin’ to—­”

Ramsey was still red.  “You look here!  Just say one more word—­”

“Oh, no,” Fred expostulated.  “I mean seriously, Ramsey.  Honestly, I mean seriously.  Aren’t you seriously goin’ to call on her some Caller’s Night?”

“No, I’m not!”

“But why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Well, seriously, Ramsey, there’s only one Caller’s Night before vacation, and so I suppose it hardly will be worth while; but I expect you’ll see quite a little of her at home this summer?”

“No, I won’t.  I won’t see her at all.  She isn’t goin’ to be home this summer, and I wouldn’t see anything of her if she was.”

“Where’s she goin’ to be.”

“In Chicago.”

“She is?” said Fred, slyly.  “When’d she tell you?”

Ramsey turned on him.  “You look out!  She didn’t tell me.  I just happened to see in the Bulletin she’s signed up with some other girls to go and do settlement work in Chicago.  Anybody could see it.  It was printed out plain.  You could have seen it just as well as I could, if you’d read the Bulletin.”

“Oh,” said Fred.

“Now look here—­”

“Good heavens!  Can’t I even say ’oh’?”

“It depends on the way you say it.”

“I’ll be careful,” Fred assured him, earnestly.  “I really and honestly don’t mean to get you excited about all this, Ramsey.  I can see myself you haven’t changed from your old opinion of Dora Yocum a bit.  I was only tryin’ to get a little rise out of you for a minute, because of course, seriously, why, I can see you hate her just the same as you always did.”