“You must be a ‘shark’ Phelps,” laughed Mott.  “I’d like to see the work that would keep me away.  Peter John Schenck and I intend to take it all in, don’t we, freshman?” he added, turning to his companion as he spoke.

“Ye-es, I guess so,” responded that worthy who had been addressed.

“You’ll have a good time,” said Will.  “I wish I could go too, but I can’t, and the only thing for me to do is to stand up and not whine over it.”

“You’ll be sorry for it,” laughed Mott, as he and Peter John turned toward the latter’s room.  “All we can do will be to try to make up for what you’re going to lose.”

And Will Phelps did almost feel that he was too strict in his demands upon himself when the student-body formed in line early Saturday morning and, preceded by a band, started down the street on the way to the station.  His room-mate had said no more to him concerning the trip, but as Will marched by Foster’s side he could feel the deep sympathy of his friend.  His heart almost misgave him.  It was not too late even yet to go, for doubtless he could borrow money of some one.  Perhaps it was too much a mere sentiment to hold himself to his work as he was doing.  And he detested the work so heartily too.

Still he held rigidly to his decision, and even when the heavily laden train pulled out from the station and the words of the song which was sung came back to him he did not falter, though his heart was heavy within him.

    Gaudeamus igitur
    Juvenes dum sumus
    Gaudeamus igitur
    Juvenes dum sumus
    Post jucundam juventutem
    Post molestam senectutem
    Nos habebit humus
    Nos habebit humus.

CHAPTER XVI

TELEGRAMS

When Will Phelps returned to the college, the entire place to him seemed to be deserted, and a stillness rested over all that was almost oppressive.  Even the few college boys who were to be seen about the grounds all shared in the prevailing gloom and increased the sense of loneliness in the heart of the young freshman.  When he entered his room, the sight of his room-mate’s belongings was almost like that of the possessions of the dead and Will Phelps was utterly miserable and dejected.

Work he decided was his only cure and at once he busied himself at his task from which he was aroused in the course of an hour or two by the coming of the senior who was tutoring him.

“I’m mighty glad to see you,” said Will impulsively.  “I feel as if I was about the only one of my kind in the world.”

“You’re downhearted over deciding to stay in town, to-day?” replied his tutor pleasantly.  “Oh, well, never mind.  It will be a good tonic for you and when you’ve passed your mid-year’s in Greek, you’ll never once think of this trip with the team to-day.”

“I’m afraid that’s cold comfort just at the present moment.  I’ve just been hanging on and that’s all there is to it.”