had ever listened to. "It--it's a fiddle, isn't it?" he demanded.

Amy nodded. "More respectfully, a violin. More correctly a viol-_din._
(The joke is not new.) What you are listening to with such evident
delight are the sweet strains of Penny Durkin's violin." Amy looked at
the alarm clock which decorated a corner of his chiffonier. "Penny is
twelve minutes ahead of time. He's not supposed to play during
study-hour, you see, and unless I'm much mistaken he will be so informed
before the night is much--"

"_Hey, Penny! Cut it out, old top_!"

From somewhere down the corridor the anguished wail floated, followed an
instant later by sounds counterfeiting the howling of an unhappy dog.
Threats and pleas mingled.

"Penny! For the love of Mike!"

"Set your watch back, Penny!"

"Shut up, you idiot! Study's not over!"

"Call an officer, please!"

But Pennington Durkin was making too much noise on his instrument to
hear the remonstrances at first, and it was not until some impatient
neighbour sallied forth and pounded frantically at the portal of Number
13 that the wailing ceased. Then,

"What is it?" asked Durkin mildly.

"It's only ten minutes to nine, Penny. Your clock's fast again. Shut up
or we'll kill you!"

"Oh!" said Penny surprisedly. "Are you sure? I set my watch--"

"Oh, forget it! You say that every night," was the wearied response.
"How the dickens do you think anyone's going to study with that noise
going on?"

"I'm very sorry, really," responded Penny, "If I'd known--"

"You never do know, Penny!" The youth outside strode back to his room
and slammed the door and quiet prevailed once more. Amy smiled.

"Poor Penny," he said. "He suffers much in the cause of Art. I refuse to
study any more. Close up shop, Clint, and let's talk. Now that you've
been with us a whole day, what do you think of us? Do you approve of
this institution of learning, old man?"

"I think I'm going to like it," replied Clint soberly.

"I do hope so," murmured Amy anxiously. "Still, any little changes you'd
like made--"

"Well, you asked me, didn't you?" laughed Clint. "Besides, how can I
help but like it when I am honoured by being roomed with you?"

"Sarcasm!" hissed Amy. "Time's up!" He slammed his book shut, tossed it
on a pile at his elbow, yawned and jumped from his chair. "Let's go
visiting. What do you say? Come along and I'll interdoodle you to some
of our prominent criminals. Find your cap and follow me."