His hat was broken and crushed down on his eyes. His necktie was awry, his waistcoat torn open. He swung the door shut with a lurch, and grunted "Uh?"
Don stood up and watched him stumble across the room to his cot and sit down on it heavily. "Wha' kep' me, uh?" He tried to hang his hat on the bed-post, dropped it on the floor, and laughed feebly. "Nothin' kep' me—stayed. Lossofun. As' the Dean wha' kep' me. As' the Dean." He waved his hand. "Fullows said I was 'fraid t'—t'—throw brick through 's window. Uh? Wha' say?"
Don turned his back, sickened by the sight of that imbecile face, with the glazed eyes and the swollen lips.
Conroy mumbled: "You—I'm eck—hic—spelled."
"Expelled!"
"Ever been ek—spelled, uh? Man on each arms 'n legs throw y' over a fence. Lossofun."
It was not until the next morning that Don heard the story from a sick and repentant Conroy. He had won a bet on a 'Varsity baseball game, and with his winnings he had celebrated the victory with Pittsey and some others of the coterie. Pittsey and he had "taken too much." On a "dare" from the others, they two had gone back to Residence and thrown stones, in a drunken folly, through the Dean's windows. They had both been caught, the others escaping in the darkness; the Dean had told them that they might consider themselves expelled from the University; and when they had tried to attack him, they had been put out of the college grounds by the beadle and
