alone," declared Jenk angrily, and
flushing all up to his shock of light hair; "and I gave him quite as
good as he gave me, I'd have you know, Tom Beresford."

"Hoh, hoh!" Tom gave a howl of derision, and slapped his knee in pure
delight. "Tell that to the marines, sonny," he said.

"Hush--old Fox will hear you. Be still, can't you?"--twitching his
jacket--"and stop your noise."

"I can't help it; you say such very funny things," said Beresford,
wiping his eyes.

"Well, anyway, I'm going to pay him up this term," declared Jenkins
decidedly. He was rushing around the small room; the corners devoted to
David being neatness itself, which couldn't truthfully be said of Joel's
quarters. "I'm after his new tennis racket. Where in thunder is it?"
tossing up the motley array of balls, dumb-bells, and such treasures,
that showed on their surface they belonged to no one but Joel.

"Great Scott!" Tom cried with sudden interest, and coming out of his
amusement. "You won't find it."

"Saw him looking at it just now, before he went to class," cried
Jenkins, plunging around the room. "Where is the thing?" he fumed.

Berry gave a few swift, bird-like glances around the room, then darted
over to the end of one of the small beds, leaned down, and picked out
from underneath the article in question.

"Oh! give it to me," cried Jenk, flying at him, and possessing himself
of the treasure; "it's mine; I told you of it."

"Isn't it a beauty!" declared Berry, his eyes very big and longing.

"Ha, ha--ain't it? Well, Joe won't see this in one spell."

Jenkins gave it a swing over his head, then batted his knee with it.

"What are you going to do, Jenk?" demanded Berry, presently, when he
could get his mind off from the racket itself.

"Do? Ha, ha! Who says I can't pay the beggar back?" grinned Jenk,
hopping all over the room, and knocking into things generally.

"Hush--hush," warned Berry, plunging after him; "here's old Fox," which
brought both boys up breathless in the middle of the floor.

"She's gone by"--a long breath of relief; "and there she goes down the
stairs," finished Berry.

"Sure?" Not daring to breathe, but clutching the racket tightly, and
with one eye on Berry, Jenk cried again in a loud whisper, "Sure,
Berry?"

"As if any one could mistake the flap of those slipper-heels on the
stairs!" said Berry scornfully.

"Well, look out of the window," suggested Jenk suddenly. "She'll go
across the yard, maybe."

S