I'd be afraid Steve would pull me under water and drown me!" Roy chuckled as he seated himself and, thrusting his hands in his trousers pockets, surveyed his shoes smilingly.

"Poor old Steve! He's in for a heap of trouble, I guess, before he gets ready to settle down as a useful member of our charming little community." "Seems to me," said Harry, "about the best thing you do to-day is predict trouble for folks.

You're as bad as What's-his-name's raven; you croak." "The gentleman's name was Poe," returned Roy sweetly.

"But perhaps you've never studied American literature." "I thought Poe was a football hero at Princeton or somewhere," laughed Harry.

"What did he ever do for American literature ?" "American history was more in his line," replied Roy.