game. It worked all right then and
they joshed the life out of the leader, too. I heard Shirlock tell about
it."

The Freshman should never have allowed himself to go to sleep so easily.
By the time Perkins and Mason tiptoed up to his room, he was sprawled
out on his back, snoring with a healthfulness that was positively
vulgar. Mason gave the leader a significant punch and drew him down the
hall to his room.

"See here, Perk," he said, "if he keeps up that gag to-morrow I have a
scheme that is a pipe."

The invalid wore a woe-begone expression when the two fellows went in
before breakfast.

"Are you any better?" asked Perkins.

"No," said Van, miserably. "The pain is just as bad. I guess I'll have
to see a doctor after all."

"How did you sleep?" inquired Perkins.

"Bum. My fever was high all night," moaned the sufferer. "I heard you
fellows come up, and I hoped someone might drop in. I suppose you were
all too sleepy."

"Yes," said Mason, with a side look at Perkins, "everybody went right to
sleep."

"Well," said the leader, "we'll go down to breakfast now, and then we
will get a doctor to see you before we have to go."

Neither of them stopped to eat. They hurried first to the Polyclinic.
There Perkins asked for the name of one or two physicians who were known
to have little practice, and who could afford to take charge of a man
who would require constant attention for a week, a middle-aged person
preferred.

The man in charge gave them three names and addresses. They went first
to a Doctor Mead, who displayed his shingle in a quiet street. He was a
big, slow-spoken man, somewhat shabbily dressed.

Jimmy Mason approached him with such hesitation in his voice as befitted
the part he was playing. They wanted the doctor on a delicate matter, he
explained; it was a private affair which lay very near to them, Perkins
added.

"You see," said Jimmy, "we're all cut up. Poor little devil----" and his
voice broke artistically, while Perkins forebore to grin.

"Perhaps the case is not so grave as it seems," said the doctor, with
professional calm.

"I don't see how it could be any worse." Jimmy controlled his emotion
with an effort. "If it were just common sickness, but--but he's lost
some of his buttons--bughouse, crazy you know,--" his giggle turned into
a sob again, and Perkins, bearing up under his trouble, took the thread
of the story.

"You see, Doctor, we are musicians from Stanford, travelling th