CHAPTER VIII
AMBITIONS
"Shake hands!" exclaimed Joe, as he stepped over to the bed, on whichthe other raised himself, the clothes draping around him. Then Joe sawhow well built his new room-mate was--the muscles of his arms andshoulders standing out, as his pajamas tightened across his chest.
"Glad to know you," greeted Poole. "You are sure you don't mind mybutting in?"
"Not at all. Glad of your company. I hate to be alone. I wish you'd comein a bit earlier, and you could have gone down to Glory's with us."
"Wish I had. I've heard of the place, but as a general rule I like aquieter shack to eat."
"Same here," confessed Joe. "We're talking of starting a feeding jointof our own--the Freshmen here--or of joining one. Are you with us?"
"Sure thing. Do you know any of the fellows here?"
"Three--in our shack. I just met them to-night. They seem all to thegood."
"Glad to hear it. I'll fill in anywhere I can."
"Well, I'm going to fill in bed--right now!" asserted Joe with a yawn."I'm dead tired. It's quite a trip from my place, and we've got to go tochapel in the morning."
"That's so. Are you a sound sleeper?"
"Not so very. Why?"
"I am, and I forgot to bring an alarm clock. I always need one to get meup."
"I can fix you," replied Joe. "I've got one that would do in place of agong in a fire-house. I'll set it going." And from his trunk, afterrummaging about a bit, he pulled a large-sized clock, noiseless as toticking, but with a resonant bell that created such a clamor, when Joeset it to tinkling, that Ricky Hanover came bursting in.
"What's the joke?" he demanded, half undressed. "Let me in on it."
"The alarm clock," explained Joe. "My new chum was afraid he'd be lateto chapel. Ricky, let me make you acquainted with Mr. Poole."
"Glad to know you," spoke Ricky. "Got a handle?"
"A what?"
"Nickname. I always think it's easier to get acquainted with a fellow ifhe's got one. It isn't so stiff."
"Maybe you're right. Well, the fellows back home used to call me'Spike'."
"What for?" demanded Joe.
"Because my father was in the hardware business."
"I see!" laughed Ricky. "Good enough. Spike suits me. I say, you've gota pretty fair joint here," he went on admiringly. "And some stuff,believe me!" There was envy in his tones as he looked around the room,and noted the various articles Joe was digging out of his trunk--somefencing foils, boxing gloves, a baseball bat and mask, and a number offoreign weapons which Joe had begun to collect in one of his periodicalfits and then had given up. "They'll look swell stuck around the walls,"went on Ricky.
"Yes, it sort of tones up the place, I guess," admitted Joe.
"I've got a lot of flags," spoke Spike. "My trunk didn't come, though.Hope it'll be here to-morrow."
"Then you will have a den!" declared Ricky. "Got any photos?"
"Photos?" queried Joe wonderingly.
"Yes--girls? You ought to see my collection! Some class, believe me; andmore than half were free-will offerings," and Ricky drew himself upproudly in his role of a lady-killer.
"Where'd you get the others?" asked Spike.
"Swiped 'em--some I took from my sister. They'll look swell when I get'em up. Well, I'm getting chilly!" he added, and it was no wonder, forhis legs were partly bare. "See you later!" and he slid out of the door.
"Nice chap," commented Joe.
"Rather original," agreed Spike Poole. "I guess he's in the habit ofdoing things. But say, I'm keeping you up with my talk, I'm afraid."
"I guess it's the other way around," remarked Joe, with a smile.
"No, go ahead, and stick up all the trophies you like. I'll help outto-morrow."
"Oh, well, I guess this'll do for a while," said Joe a little later,when he had partly emptied his trunk. "I think I'll turn in. I don'tknow how I'll sleep--that Welsh rabbit was a bit more than I'm used to.So if I see my grandmother in the night----"
"I'll wake you up before the dear old lady gets a chance to box yourears," promised his room-mate with a laugh. And then our hero crawledinto bed to spend his first night as a real Yale student.
Joe thought he had never seen so perfect a day as the one to which thealarm clock awakened him some hours later. It was clear and crisp, andon the way to chapel with the others of the Red Shack, he breathed deepof the invigorating air. The exercises were no novelty to him, but itwas very different from those at Excelsior Hall, and later the campusseemed to be fairly alive with the students. But Joe no longer feltalone. He had a chum--several of them, in fact, for the acquaintances ofthe night before seemed even closer in the morning.
The duties of the day were soon over, lectures not yet being under way.Joe got his name down, learned when he was expected to report, the hoursof recitation, and other details. His new chums did the same.
"And now let's see about that eating club," proposed Ricky Hanover, whenthey were free for the rest of the day. "It's all right to go to Glory'sonce in a while--especially at night when the jolly crowd is there, anda restaurant isn't bad for a change--but we're not here for a week or amonth, and we want some place that's a bit like home."
The others agreed with him, and a little investigation disclosed aneating resort run by a Junior who was working his way through Yale. Itwas a quiet sort of a place, on a quiet street, not so far away from theRed Shack as to make it inconvenient to go around for breakfast. Thepatrons of it, besides Joe and his new friends, were mostly Freshmen,though a few Juniors, acquaintances of Roslyn Joyce, who was trying topay his way to an education by means of it, ate there, as did a coupleof very studious Seniors, who did not go in for the society or sportinglife.
"This'll be just the thing for us," declared Joe; and the others agreedwith him.
There was some talk of football in the air. All about them students werediscussing the chances of the eleven, especially in the big games withHarvard and Princeton, and all agreed that, with the new materialavailable, Yale was a sure winner.
"What are you going in for?" asked Joe of Ricky, as the five ofthem--Joe, Ricky, Spike, Slim Jones and Hank Heller strolled across thecampus.
"The eleven for mine--if I can make it!" declared Ricky. "What's yours,Joe?"
"Baseball. But it's a long while off."
"That's right--the gridiron has the call just now. Jove, how I want toplay!" and Ricky danced about in the excess of his good spirits.
"What are you going in for?" asked Joe of Hank Heller.
"I'd like to make the crew, but I don't suppose I have much chance. I'llhave to wait, as you will."
"If I can get on the glee club, I'm satisfied," remarked Slim Jones."That's about all I'm fit for," he added, with a whimsical smile. "Howabout you, Spike? Can you play anything?"
"The Jewsharp and mouthorgan. Have they any such clubs here?"
"No!" exclaimed Ricky. "But what's the matter with you trying for theeleven? You've got the build."
"It isn't in my line. I'm like Joe here. I like the diamond best."
"Do you?" cried our hero, delighted to find that his room-mate had thesame ambition as himself. "Where do you play?"
"Well, I have been catching for some time."
"Then you and Joe ought to hit it off!" exclaimed Ricky. "Joe's crazy topitch, and you two can make up a private battery, and use the room for acage."