he reminds me of a man I knew once on a
time. I haven't seen Swallows when he had over twenty-five at a time
since he's been here, and still he says he dropped a hundred and ten in
one game."

"How about this man you knew?" asked Parker.

"He was a great fellow to stretch the long bow, and it became such a
habit that he could not break it. He seemed to prefer a falsehood to the
truth, even when the truth would have served him better. Well, he died
and was buried. One day I visited the cemetery and gazed on his
tombstone. On the top of the stone was his name and on the bottom were
these words: 'I am not dead, but sleeping.' Now that man was lying in
his grave, for his habit--"

Parker flung a slipper at Emery, who dodged it. The slipper struck Tad
Horner and knocked him off the back of the chair.

"That's all right," said Swallows, nodding at Emery, who was laughing.
"I'll square that the first chance I get."

"Do! But when you get a roll, remember there are Others who are looking
for you."

"Drop this persiflage and come down to business," said Browning, winking
at the others and nodding toward Hartwick, who did not seem to be
taking any interest in what was going on. "Let's talk about the races."

"Yas, by Jawve!" drawled Willis Paulding, who tried to be "deucedly
English" in everything. "Let's talk about the races, deah boys. That's
what interests me, don't yer know."

Hartwick squirmed. He knew what was coming, and still his disposition
was such that he could not resist a "jolly" in case the jolliers
expressed opinions that did not agree with his own.

Browning enjoyed seeing the gang get Hartwick on a string, and he was
ever ready to aid anything of the kind along. By nature the king of
sophomores was a practical joker. He had put up more jobs than any man
who ever entered Yale. That was what had given him his reputation.

"I understand the freshmen are rapidly coming to the front," observed
Hod Chadwick, with apparent seriousness.

"Is that right?" asked Parker. "Heard anything new?"

"Why, they say this Merriwell has the genuine Oxford system."

"Where'd he get it?"

"He has been abroad. It is even reported that he has studied at Oxford.
He has watched the work of the Oxford coach, and he is working the
freshmen eight on the same lines."

"That's right--that's right," nodded Hartwick, and the boys winked at
each other.

"How do you know it is right?" asked Emery. "What do you know about
Merriw