"I wish," said Amy, as they clattered down the stairs in the wake of
several other boys who had lingered no longer than they after nine
o'clock had struck, "I wish you had made the Fifth Form, Clint."

"So do I," was the reply. "I could have if they'd stretched a point."

"Um; yes," mused the other. "Stretched a point. Now that's something I
never could make out, Clint."

"What!"

"Why, how you can stretch a point. The dictionary describes a point as
'that which has position but no magnitude.' Seems to me it must be very
difficult to get hold of a thing with no magnitude, and, of course,
you'd have to get hold of it to stretch it, wouldn't you? Now, if you
said stretch a line or stretch a circle--"

"That's what you'll need if you don't shut up," laughed Clint.

"A circle?"

"No, a stretcher!"

"What a horrible pun," mourned Amy. "Say, suppose we drop in on Jack
Innes?"

"Suppose we do," replied Clint cheerfully. "Who is he?"

"Football captain, you ignoramus. Maybe if you don't act fresh and he
takes a liking to you he will resign and let you be captain."

"Won't it look--well, sort of funny?" asked Clint doubtfully as they
passed along the Bow.

"What? You being captain?"

"No, our going--I mean _my_ going to see him, Won't he think I'm trying
to--to swipe?"

"Poppycock! Jack's a particular friend of mine. You don't have to tell
him you want a place on the team, do you? Besides, there'll likely be
half a dozen others there. Here we are; one flight."

They turned in the first entrance of Hensey and climbed the stairs.
Innes's room, like Clint's, faced the stair-well, being also Number 14,
and from behind the closed door came a babel of voices.

"Full house tonight," observed Amy, knocking thunderously. But the
knocking wasn't heard inside and, after a moment, Amy turned the knob
and walked in, followed by Clint. Nearly a dozen boys were crowded in
the room and each of the two small beds sagged dangerously under the
weight it held.

"We knocked," said Amy, "but you hoodlums are making so much noise
that--"

"Hi, Amy! How's the boy?" called a youth whose position facing the door
allowed him to discover the newcomers. Heads turned and other greetings
followed. It was evident to Clint that his room-mate was a popular chap,
for everyone seemed thoroughly glad to see him.

"Come here, Amy," called a big fellow who was sprawled in a Morris
chair. Amy good-naturedly obeyed the summons and the big fello