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“Hello, Mother Westcott! What’s the good word with you? Got anything to eat?”

“That’s so, Mother, we’re starving! Look at my poor thin form! Does it not move you to tears of pity? Say, Mother, got any cake?”

“Shut up, Tad, and get out of Pinkie’s way! That’s my trunk, Pinkie, the one with the lock busted. You know my room. Say, Pete, lend me a half till to-morrow, will you?”

Now and then Mrs. Westcott’s voice was to be heard, but for the most part the boys’ laughter and chatter filled the house. Presently heavy steps on the stairs indicated the ascent of Pinkie with a trunk. Close behind him other steps sounded and a voice called:

“Jack, we’ve a new one! He’s in with Kitty!”

“Shut up! He’ll hear you,” a low voice warned.

“What of it? I haven’t said——” But the rest was drowned in the general noise. There were three other rooms on the floor and the new arrivals distributed themselves therein, still, however, keeping up their conversation.

“We’ve got new curtains, Warren!” announced a triumphant voice.