II MISS DENMAN OU see," said Tom Andrews, "chum was n't a boating man at first. We made him try for the crew because we all knew there was n't any one else who could bring out as he could the full strength of every oar just when it was needed most. It's a way he has of managing men." "Which means winning the battle of life," remarked Senator Clifford. "There's no knowing what he 'll be one of these days," continued Tom. "He's the most popular man in the class, and a Bones man." "What's a Bones man?" asked Miss Clifford, a rather plain young lady with a pleasant face. "That's what I'd like to know," said Tom. "It's a senior society, the most select and mysterious of the college societies. He is n't enough of a dig to be valedictorian, but he'll win the De Forest, and that's a great deal better." "What is the De Forest?" inquired Mrs. Clifford. "It's the best Townsend." "And what is a Townsend?” "The six best writers and speakers in the senior class get the Townsend prizes, and the best of the six It's the highest literary honor a gets the De Forest. Yale man can win. Craigin is one of the best writers in our class, and the best speaker." "He certainly has a warm advocate in you, Tom," said Mrs. Clifford. "Why should n't he have? death. He's the Stand-by. He'd stand by me to the him, and we fellows size each other up pretty well, Mrs. Clifford. He would n't go back on a friend if a pack of wolves were at his throat. He's the whitest man I know, and as brainy and brave as Uncle John Denman." "Thank you!" interrupted the beautiful girl. "That's all right, Isabel! We know you think there never was any one else in the world like your father; but I tell you, Craigin 's more like him in some ways than you 'd believe, with all your gift for reading people." "Why, Tom, I was n't sarcastic. I was glad you spoke that way about papa and your friend." "You see, Senator Clifford," continued Tom, returning to his eulogy, "we fellows all feel that Craigin is different from the rest of us-lives on a higher plane, as Prex would say. He's a little stiff and cranky in some of his notions-at least you'd think so, and we think so; but we don't like him any the less for it, for there is n't a bit of cant about him, and we all know if he thought a thing was right he 'd stand by it, life or death, and never flinch a hair.” "I'd like-" began the old statesman. He did n't finish the sentence, for at that moment several hundred college men, in the halls and corridors of the hotel and in the streets close by, struck up their songs: "Oh! the bulldog on the bank, And the bullfrog in the pool; And the bullfrog in the pool; "Singing, Shool, shool, shool I rool, Shool I shag-a-rack, shool-a-barb-a-cool, The first time I saw her, Shool I bally eel, Dis cum bibble lola boo, slow reel. "Saw my leg off, Saw my leg off, Saw my leg off "A boy he had an auger That bored two holes at once; A boy he had an auger That bored two holes at once; And we buried him in the lowlands, lowlands, And we buried him in the lowlands, low! "Old Noah he did build an ark, Luddy, fuddy, oh! poor luddy, heigh-ho! Luddy, fuddy, oh! poor luddy, fuddy! After serenading the hotel for fifteen or twenty minutes they started out through the town. Hundreds of students marched up and down the streets, singing their songs and yelling, "Breke-kek-ex ko-ax ko-ax! Breke-kek-ex ko-ax ko-ax! O op, O op, parabalou ! Craigin!" Hundreds of men who were not up in "The Frogs" of Aristophanes, from graduates of forty years' standing to the relatives and friends of mere freshmen, joined the procession, shouting at the top of their voices, "Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! Yale ! " "Tom," said the senator, "I wish we might meet your friend." "I'd set my heart on it," replied Tom. "I spoke to the doctor about it awhile ago, and he said he thought it would be all right in an hour or so. I'll go and see now." In about fifteen minutes a shout came from the hotel office, "Here 's Craigin." The few bystanders took it up. The news passed from lip to lip as beaconlights flash from hill to hill, and from the marching hosts down the street and from every part of the little city, filled to overflowing with friends of old Yale, came the exultant cry, "Craigin 's all right! 'Rah for Craigin! 'Rah for the Stand-by!" The procession headed down street turned about. In a few minutes the hotel was packed and surrounded with thousands of men, shouting, "What's the matter with Craigin? He's all right!" Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed, and the hubbub showed no signs of abating. Every now and then the senator and his party heard single voices shouting, "How are you, Craigin?" "Bully for you, Craigin!" "God bless you, Craigin!" and then single voices were drowned in a mighty roar. At last Tom returned with the hero of the day. "Senator and Mrs. Clifford," he said, "allow me to present my friend Mr. Craigin; Miss Clifford, Mr. Craigin; my cousin Miss Denman, Mr. Craigin." Craigin had exchanged his rowing costume-as nearly Adam's as decency permitted-for a fashionably cut and perfectly fitting summer suit of rough navy blue. His ordinary weight of about two hundred pounds had been reduced by training to one hundred and seventy-five, and by the terrible contest through which he had just passed to one hundred and sixtyseven. He was five feet ten in height, straight as an arrow, and of remarkable figure. His feet were rather small than otherwise, his legs compact and shapely, but not large. From the hips down there was nothing striking in the outlines of his person. From the hips up he thickened like a double wedge. were immensely broad in proportion to his hips, and his chest was correspondingly full and deep. Another peculiarity was the extraordinary length of his arms. As the senator grasped the young man's hand he noticed that, though small, it was hard, almost like iron, and that the large wrist was like the pastern of a thoroughbred trotter. The old man had a keen eye for points in sporting matters as well as in things legal and political. "H'm!" he said to himself, "the youngster could strike a knock-down blow with John L. Sullivan." His shoulders If the "youngster" resembled the world's late champion in length and strength of arms and in massiveness |