“The queerest thing,” said West, with a laugh, “was to see Post standing on shore and trying to throw a line to you all.  It never came within twenty yards of you, but he kept on shouting:  ’Catch hold—­catch hold, can’t you?  Why don’t you catch hold, you stupid apes?’”

“And some one told me,” said Sproule, “that Whipple took his shoes, sweater, and breeches off, and swam out there with his nose-guard on.”

“Used it for a life-preserver,” suggested West.—­“Did you get lectured, Clausen?”

“Yes, he gave it to me hard; but he’s a nice old duffer, after all.  Said I had had pretty near punishment enough.  But I’ve got to keep in bounds all term, and can’t go on the river again until I learn how to swim.”

“Shouldn’t think you’d want to,” answered Sproule.

“Are you still on probation, March?” asked Clausen.

“Yes, and it doesn’t look as though I’d ever get off.  If I could find out who cut that rope I’d—­I’d—­”

“Well, I must be going back,” exclaimed Clausen hurriedly.  “I wish, March, you’d come and see me some time.  My room’s 16 Warren.  I’m in with a junior by the name of Bowler.  Know him?”

Joel didn’t know the junior, but promised to call, and West and Clausen said good-night and stumbled down the stairway together.

The next morning Joel dashed out from his history recitation plump into Stephen Remsen, who was on his way to the office.

“Well, March, congratulations!  I’m just back from a trip home and was going to look you up this afternoon and shake hands with you.  I’ll do it now.  You’re a modest-enough-looking hero, March.”

“I don’t feel like a hero, either,” laughed Joel in an endeavor to change the subject.  “I’m just out from Greek history, and if I could tell Mr. Oman what I think—­”

“Yes?  But tell me, how did you manage—­But we’ll talk about that some other time.  You’re feeling all right after the wetting, are you?” And as Joel answered yes, he continued:  “Do you think you could go to work again on the team if I could manage to get you off probation?”

“Try me!” cried Joel.  “Do you think they’ll let up on me?”

“I’m almost certain of it.  I’m on my way now to see Professor Wheeler, and I’ll ask him about you.  I have scarcely any doubt but that, after your conduct the other day, he will consent to reinstate you, March, if I ask him.  And I shall be mighty glad to do so.  To tell the truth, I’m worried pretty badly about—­well, never mind.  Never cross a river until you come to it.”

“But, Mr. Remsen, sir,” said Joel, “do you mean that he will let me play just because—­just on account of what happened the other day?”

“On account of that and because your general conduct has been of the best; and also, because they have all along believed you innocent of the charge, March.  You know I told you that when Cloud and Clausen were examined each swore that the other had not left the room that evening, and accounted for each other’s every moment all that day.  But, nevertheless, I am positive that Professor Wheeler took little stock in their testimony.  And as for Professor Durkee, why, he pooh-pooed the whole thing.  You seem to have made a conquest of Professor Durkee, March.”