of residence?"

"Tannersville, Pennsylvania."

"A wonderful state, Pennsylvania. Parents' names, please."

"Charles L. Edwards. My mother isn't living."

"Tut, tut, tut!" said the school secretary regretfully and
sympathetically. "A great misfortune, Edwards. Now, you are entering by
certificate?"

"Yes, sir, from the Tannersville High School."

"And your age?"

"Fifteen; sixteen in----"

"Fifteen will do, thank you." He drew out a drawer in a small cabinet
set at the left of the broad-topped desk and ran his fingers over the
indexed cards within it, finally extracting one and laying it very
exactly above the one on which he had been setting down the information
supplied by Steve. For a moment he silently compared the two. Then he
nodded with much satisfaction. "Quite so, quite so," he said. "You will
room in Billings Hall, Number 12, Edwards. You are provided with linen
and other articles required?"

"Yes, sir, but my trunk hasn't got here yet."

"Quite so. One moment." He drew a telephone toward him, pressed a button
on a little black board set at one end of the desk, glanced at the clock
between the two broad windows and spoke into the transmitter: "Mrs.
Calder? Edwards, 12 Billings, hasn't his trunk yet. Will you have his
room made up, please? Eh? Quite so! Yes, 12 Billings. Just a moment." He
turned to Steve. "May I ask whether the young gentleman with you is your
room-mate, Hall?"

"Yes, sir."

"And his trunk, too, is missing?"

"Yes, sir."

"Quite so. Yes, Mrs. Calder, both beds, please. Thank you." He hung up
the receiver and pushed the instrument aside. "That is all, Edwards. I
trust you will like the school. Should you want anything you may come
to me here or you will find your Hall Master, Mr. Daley, in Number 8
Billings. Now, if you please, Hall."

Tom, in turn, answered the little man's interrogations and at last they
were free to seek their room.

"Billings is the last dormitory to your right as you leave this
building," said the secretary, "and you will find Number 12 on the
second floor at the further end. Supper is served at six o'clock in the
dining-room in Wendell, which is the last building in the other
direction. As we have very few students with us yet, the supper hour is
shortened and it will greatly assist if you will be prompt."

The boys thanked him and sought their room. A broad flagstone walk ran
the length of the row of six buildings and along this they strode past
t