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Unfortunately for Lester this was easy of accomplishment. He was not obliged to do any very hard thinking on the subject, for a plan was suggested to him that very afternoon. There was but one objection to it: he would have to wait four or five months before it could be carried out.

Lester’s room-mate was a boy who spelled his name Huggins, but pronounced it as though it were written Hewguns. He had showed but little disposition to talk about himself and his affairs, and all Lester could learn concerning him was that he was from Massachusetts, and that he lived somewhere on the sea-coast. He and Lester met in their dormitory after dinner, and while the latter proceeded to put on his hat and overcoat, Huggins threw himself into a chair, buried his hands in his pockets and gazed steadily at the floor.

“What’s the matter?” inquired Lester. “You act as if something had gone wrong with you.”

“Things never go right with me,” was the surly response. “There isn’t a boy in the world who has so much trouble as I do.”