Heaphy, "play the best game of football or win the Baird prizes?"
"I don't know," said Hart, frowning a little, "I never thought about it much."
Without another word he took the cinder cross-path that led in the direction of the gymnasium. Just at the stone steps that led up to the dingy entrances of Witherspoon Hall he ran across the party that he had met on the front campus. Bliss stepped out to meet him.
"I say, old man, won't you come up to my room? We're going to have a little tea-fight up there. A lot of girls, and you will meet a good many you will see to-night at the dance."
Hart at first thought of backing out. He had almost forgotten about the dance.
"I am going over to the gymnasium," he said. "Besides—" he hesitated and Bliss broke in:
"Oh, never mind going over and dressing up; come just as you are. Tommy Wilson's up there in a pair of corduroy breeches."
He plucked Hart's sleeve, and the latter allowed himself to be led toward where the others were standing.
"I am going to present you to Miss Hollings-
