s. He became in a small
way a sort of court of arbitration before which questions of more or
less gravity were submitted. This deference at first embarrassed, then
amused, then finally pleased him with an acute, mannish pleasure.

The consequence was that Stover, who until this time had only looked
forward and up at the majestic shadows of the fourth and fifth
formers, now looked backward and down, and became pleasurably aware
that leagues below him was the large body of the first and second
forms. Having perceived this new adjustment he woke with a start and,
rubbing his eyes, took stock of his amazing knowledge of life and
again said to himself that now, finally, he certainly must have
arrived at man's estate.

On top of which, having been asked to referee several disputes in his
character of Honest John Stover, Dink, while holding himself in
reserve to direct operations on a dignified and colossal scale against
the Natural Enemy, decided that it was unbecoming of a man of his
position, age and reputation, who had the entree of the Upper House,
to go skipping about the midnight ways, in undignified costume, with
such rank shavers as Pebble Stone and Dennis de B. de B. Finnegan.

So when Dennis arrived after lights, like a will-o'-the-wisp, with a
whispered:

"I say, Dink, all ready."

Stover replied:

"All ready in bed."

"What," said Dennis aghast, "you're not with us?"

"No."

"Aren't you feeling well?"

"First rate."

"But I say, Dink, there's half a dozen of us. We've got all the
laundry bags in the house heaped up just outside of Beekstein's door
and, I say, we're going to pile 'em all up on top of him and then jump
on and pie him, and scoot for our rooms before old Bundy can jump the
stairs and nab us. It'll be regular touch and go--a regular lark! Come
on!"

A snore answered him.

"You won't come?"

"No."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, I'm sleepy!"

"Sleepy!" said Dennis in such amazement that he no longer had any
strength to argue, and left the room convinced that Stover was
heroically concealing an agony of pain.

Stover immediately settled his tired body, sunk his nose to the level
of the covers and floated blissfully off into the land of dreams. The
next night and the next it was the same. For a whole month Dink slept,
wasting not a one of the precious moments of the night, sleeping
through the slow-moving recitations, sleeping on the green turf of
afternoons, pillowed on Tough McCa