The Cub Reporter and
It was always a little sudden, this transition from what he was in town to what he was in college; and Knox, passing by a couple of awed little town-boys who turned and gazed after him until he was out of sight, had his usual dizzy sensation. But he knew he would get the old campus feeling and would snap back into his proper place again as soon as he could shed his derby hat for a cap and could stick a pipe in his mouth.
So, absent-mindedly knocking a tutor off the walk in his haste, he proceeded to what was formerly his room, and threw his suit-case at the bedroom portière and reached down a cap from the antlers and picked out a congenial-looking pipe from the mantel-piece. The room had again changed hands recently, and he did not know the name of the present occupant, but that did not matter; the latter would see the initials on the suit-case and boast about it afterward. Emit ting a loud "wow!" which had been accumulating for six days, Hamilton Knox darted down the noisy entry-stairs and out upon the campus, himself again.
First he strode across the quadrangle—it
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