The young man laughed heartily as he spoke, and all three of the freshmen laughed in response so contagious was his good nature.  But his appearance was even more striking than his words, for he stood before them like a young giant.  He was at least six feet and three inches in height, his shoulders were so broad that they made the very doorway appear narrow, and as he stood before them without his coat and with his shirt sleeves rolled back over his arms, the great knots of muscles could be plainly seen.  Altogether he presented a most impressive sight, and his young classmates were duly impressed by his huge size and evident physical strength.

“I’m Schenck,” said Peter John, after a momentary hesitation.

“Glad to see you,” exclaimed the young giant, stepping forward and grasping his room-mate’s hand in such a manner as to make Peter John wince.  “You know what my name is, I suppose.  I’m Hawley.  ‘Cupe’ Hawley they called me in school because I was such a dainty and delicate little specimen.”  And again his laughter broke forth.  “Friends of yours, Schenck?” he added, as he glanced inquiringly at the two companions of his room-mate.

Will Phelps and Foster Bennett were at once introduced, and warmly greeted their classmate.

“Sorry I can’t offer you any seats, fellows,” said Hawley, still laughing, though there was no apparent cause for his enjoyment.  “Haven’t got everything unpacked yet; but if you’ll just wait a minute we’ll find something for you to sit on.”

“We’ll help you,” said Will Phelps, at once laying aside his coat.

In their room he and Foster had done but little of the labor required in unpacking their belongings, for neither had been accustomed to such tasks in the homes from which they had come.  Their fathers both were well-to-do and it had not occurred to either of the boys that the manual labor in settling their room was something to be expected of them.  For a moment Foster glanced quizzically at his friend as if he was puzzled to account for his unexpected proffer, but knowing Will’s impulsiveness as he did he was quick to respond, and in a brief time the few belongings of Peter John and his room-mate were unpacked and the beds were set up, the shades at the windows, and the few scanty belongings all arranged.

“I didn’t bring a carpet.  Did you?” inquired Hawley of Schenck.

“No,” replied Peter John.

“We can get along without one.  I haven’t any money to spare, and carpets are luxuries anyway.  If we feel like it we can buy one afterwards.  They’re dangerous things though,” and Hawley laughed as he spoke.  “My doctor says they’re the worst sources of contagion in the world, and whatever else I do I must be careful of my health.”  Again the laugh of the young giant rang out, and in its contagion all three of his classmates joined.