"No. We are not going back until this evening," explained Dick. "We'll see you later."
"Only one other student going with you," ^dded Tom mischievously. "He's kind of queer, but I guess he won't hurt you." He had seen an innocent, quiet youth, named Smith, getting into the college turnout.
"Queer?" asked Tubbs.
"Yes. Gets fits, or something like that. He won't hurt you if you keep your hand to your nose."
"My—ah—my hand to my nose?"
"Yes," went on Tom innocently. "You see, he has an idea that folks are smelling things. So if you keep your hand to your nose he will know you are not smelling anything, so he'll keep quiet."
"I don't—ah—know as I like that," stammered William Philander.
"Carriage for the college!" called the driver, approaching, and before he could say anything the Rovers had Tubbs in the turnout.
"Mr. Smith, Mr. Tubbs," said Dick, introducing the students. Smith bowed, and so did Tubbs. Then the hand of the dude went up to his nose and stayed there.
"Good-by! See you later!" cried Tom.
