sun of a new day flashed into his face. He dressed awkwardly and laboriously. Fully clothed at last, he invaded the region of the wash-bowls and found a battalion of half-clothed men shaving before the mirrors, sousing their faces in water, groping about with soap-filled eyes after towels and asserting profanely that the service on this particular railroad was going to pot. Harold meekly waited his turn.
He was one of the last in the dining car. He learned from the waiter that they would arrive at Tate within an hour. Returning to his car after the most meager of breakfasts, for he was terribly afraid he would not get ojff the train at the precious station, he discovered that the sleeping car had been transformed into a sitting car again. Moreover, Keay and Logan were lounging just three seats in back of him. He somewhat bashfully joined them.
"Gee, Freshman, you look as if you'd been pulled through a putty-blower," Keay called out cheerfully. "What's the matter? Didn't they tuck you under the sheets carefully enough last night? Golly, kid, if you don't sleep well on a train, wait till they get you into one of those boarding house iron-posted beds!"
By sitting with these two sons of Tate, Har-
