He was attired, as
usual, in the height of fashion, and sported a light gold-headed cane.
"For gracious sake, look at Tubby!" exclaimed Sam. "Talk about a
fashion plate!"
"Hello, Billy boy!" called out Tom. "Going to make a social call on
your washerwoman?"
"No. He's going to town to buy a pint of peanuts," said Sam.
"I thought he might be going to a funeral-dressed so soberly," added
Dick, and this caused a general laugh, for Tubbs was attired in a
light gray suit, patent leathers with spats, and a cream-colored
necktie, with gloves to match.
"How do you do?" said William Philander politely, as if he had not
seen the others in the classrooms an hour before. "Pleasant day."
"Looks a bit stormy to me," answered Dick, as he saw several
sophomores eyeing Tubbs angrily. It was against the rule of Brill for
a freshman to carry a cane.
"Stormy, did you say?" repeated the dude in dismay. "Why,
I--ah--thought it very fine, don't you know. Perhaps I had better take
an--ah--umbrella instead of this cane.
"It would be much safer," returned Dick significantly.
"But I--ah--don't see any clouds," went on William Philander, gazing
up into the sky.
"They are coming," cried Tom.
"Stand from under!" called out Sam.
And then the "clouds" did come, although not the kind the dude
anticipated. Six sophomores came up behind Tubbs, and while two caught
him by the arms a third wrenched the gold-headed cane from his grasp.
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