He took all the laughter as a tribute to his likeableness. The students had received him with open arms. Less than an hour in Tate and everybody knew him! He even saw Chester Trask among the students back-stage. Harold was infinitely grateful to Sheldon. He was keen for the whole Sophomore class. They were fine fellows. What if they had put him into Dean Pennypacker's car—by mistake? He longed to do something for the Sophomores for all they had already done for him.
"Say, I tell you what," he radiated to Sheldon, "you get all your friends together and I'll stand treat for some ice cream. Where's a real good ice cream parlor around here anyway? Some place where they serve banana splits and all the high-class dishes."
Sheldon felt like howling, but he controlled himself and replied, "Sure, 'Speedy,' that's the stuff. The Palace is the joint you mean. High class, A-number-one in every respect. A couple of chocolate marshmallow meringues down there and your own grandmother wouldn't know you. You want to blow the boys to a little indigestion? O. K. I'll get 'em together. But first, cheese it the cop. Here comes old Pennypacker up the line in that buzz wagon you almost pinched from him. Up and at 'em, men!"
