he inquired at last

"Good old days," he commented; "and let me tell you, your dad was one of the best of 'em. Jack Orde is a name you can scare fresh young rivermen with yet," he added with a laugh. "Well, pack your turkey to-night; we'll take the early train to-morrow." That evening Bob laid out what he intended to take with him, and was just about to stuff it into a pair of canvas bags when Tommy Gould, the youngest scaler, pushed open the door. "Hello!" he smiled engagingly; "where are you going? Been transferred from the office?" "On drive," said Bob, diplomatically ignoring the last question. Tommy sat down on the edge of the bed and laughed until he was weak. Bob stared at him. "Is there anything funny?" he inquired at last. "Did you say on drive?" inquired Tommy feebly. "Certainly." "With that?" Tommy pointed a wavering finger at the pile of duffle. "What's the matter with it?" inquired Bob, a trifle uncertainly. "Oh, _it's_ all right. Only wait till Roaring Dick sees it. I'd like to see his face." "Look here, Tommy," said Bob with decision, "this isn't fair. I've never been on drive before, and you know it. Now tell me what's wrong or I'll wring your fool neck." "You can't take all that stuff," Tommy explained, wiping his eyes. "Why, if everybody had all that mess, how do you suppose it would be carried?" "I've only got the barest necessities," objected Bob. "Spread out your pile," Tommy commanded. "There. Take those. Now forget the rest." Bob surveyed the single change of underwear and the extra socks with comical dismay. Next morning when he joined Welton he discovered that individual carrying a tooth brush in his vest pocket and a pair of woolen socks stuffed in his coat. These and a sweater were his only baggage. Bob's "turkey," modest as it was, seemed to represent effete luxury in comparison. "How long will this take?" he asked.