Baseball Joe at Yale Part 9

Joe looked, and saw himself being regarded by a pair of not very friendly eyes, while a tousled head of hair was visible in the light from a hall lamp that streamed from behind it.

"I--er--I believe I'm to room here," went on Joe. "Matson is my name.

I'm a Freshman----"

"Oh, that's all right. Come in!" and the tone was friendly at once. "I thought it was some of those sneaking Sophs., so I had the chain on.

Come in!" and the portal was thrown wide, while Joe's hand was caught in a firm grip.

"Are you--er--do you run this place?" asked Joe.

"Not yet, but I'm going to do my best at it as soon as I get wise to the ropes. You can help--you look the right stuff."

"Aren't you the--er--the proprietor?" asked our hero, rather puzzled for the right word.

"Not exactly," was the reply, "but I'm going to be one of 'em soon.

Hanover is my name--Ricky Hanover they used to call me at Tampa. I'll allow you the privilege. I'm a Fresh. like yourself. I'm going to room here. Arrived yesterday. I've got a room on the first floor, near the door, and it's going to be so fruity for those Sophs. to rout me out that I got a chain and put it on. The old man said he didn't care."

"The old man?" queried Joe.

"Yes, Hopkins, Hoppy for short--the fellow that owns this place--he and his wife."

"Oh, yes, the people from whom I engaged my room," spoke Joe understandingly. "I think I'm on the second floor," he went on.

"Wrong guess--come again," said Ricky Hanover with a grin, as he carefully replaced the chain. "There's been a wing shift, so Mrs. Hoppy told me. She's expecting you, but she's put you downstairs, in a big double room next to mine. Hope you won't mind. Your trunk is there, and your valise just came--at least I think it's yours--J. M. on it."

"Yes, that's mine."

"I had it put in for you."

"Thanks."

"Come on, and I'll show you the ropes. If those Sophs. come----"

"Are they likely to?" asked Joe, scenting the joy of a battle thus early in his career.

"They might. Someone tried to rush the door just before you came, but the chain held and I gave 'em the merry ha-ha! But they'll be back--we'll get ours and we'll have to take it."

"I suppose so. Well, I don't mind. I've been through it before."

"That so? Where are you from?"

"Excelsior Hall."

"Never heard of it. That's nothing. I don't s'pose you could throw a stone and hit Tampa School?"

"Probably not," laughed Joe, forming an instinctive liking for this new chap.

"Right. Tampa hardly knows it's on the map, but it isn't a half bad place. Ah, here's Mamma Hoppy now. You don't mind if I call you that; do you?" asked Ricky, as a motherly-looking woman advanced down the hall toward the two lads.

"Oh, I guess I've been at this long enough not to mind a little thing like that," she laughed. "You college men can't bother me as long as you don't do anything worse than that. Let me see, this is----"

"Matson, ma'am," spoke our hero. "Joe Matson. I wrote to you----"

"Oh, yes, I remember. I have quite a number of new boys coming in. I'm sorry, but the room I thought I could let you have isn't available. The ceiling fell to-day, so I have transferred you downstairs. It's a double room, and I may have to put someone in with you. If you think----"

"Oh, that's all right," interrupted Joe good-naturedly, "I don't mind.

I'll be glad to have a room-mate."

"Thank you," said Mrs. Hopkins, in relieved tones. "I can't say just now who it will be."

"Never mind!" broke in Ricky. "Have you grubbed?"

"No," replied the newcomer. "I was thinking of going to a restaurant."

"Come along then. I'm with you. I haven't fed my face yet. We'll go down to Glory's place and see the bunch."

Joe recognized the name as that of a famous New Haven resort, much frequented by the college lads, and, while I have not used the real designation, and while I shall use fict.i.tious names for other places connected with the college, those who know their Yale will have no difficulty in recognizing them.

"Come on to Glory's," went on Ricky. "It's a great joint."

"Wait until I slip on a clean collar," suggested Joe, and a little later he and Ricky were tramping along the streets, now agleam with electric lights, on their way to the famous resort.

It was filled with students, from lordly Seniors, who scarcely noticed those outside of their cla.s.s, to the timid Freshmen. Joe looked on in undisguised delight. After all, Yale might be more to him than he had antic.i.p.ated.

"Like to go a rabbit?" suggested Ricky.

"A rabbit?" asked Joe. "I didn't know they were in season?"

"The Welsh variety," laughed Ricky. "They're great with a mug of ale, they say, only I cut out the ale."

"Same here," admitted Joe. "Yes, I'll go one. It's made of cheese, isn't it?"

"And other stuff. Great for making you dream. Come on, this is the Freshmen table over here. I was in this morning."

"Do they have tables for each cla.s.s."

"They don't--I mean the management doesn't, but I guess it would be as much as your hair was worth to try to buck in where you didn't belong.

Know anybody here?"

"Not a soul--wish I did."

"I didn't when I came this morning, but there are some nice fellows at the Red Shack."

"Red Shack?" Joe looked puzzled.

"Yes, that's our hang-out. It's painted red."

"Oh, I see."

"There are a couple of 'em now," went on Ricky, who seemed perfectly at ease in his comparatively new surroundings. He was a lad who made friends easily, Joe decided. "Hi, h.e.l.ler, plow over here!" Ricky called to a tall lad who was working his way through the throng. "Bring Jones along with you. They're both at our shack," he went on in a low voice to Joe. "Shake hands with Matson--he's one of us chickens," he continued, and he presented the newcomers as though he had known them all their lives.