worms," observed the Codfish, "did you notice the News this morning?"

"I saw it was printed as usual," said Frank. "Some good football news on the first page?"

"Always thinking of football. Did you happen to look in the crew notices? Of course, you didn't."

"What was it? Tell us. Have you been promoted?"

"Promoted is the word," said the Codfish proudly. "I have the honor to announce to you, since you didn't read it for yourself, that I'm to guide the destinies of the third Freshman crew henceforth."

"I'm glad I'm not on it, then," said Turner.

"And," continued the Codfish undaunted by Turner's shot, "in about a week I'll land in the seat of the first eight. They are very fond of my style down there at the boathouse."

"Your line of talk I suppose is so overpowering that the crew rows hard to get away from it."

"Don't be sarcastic, Armstrong. It doesn't fit your particular style of beauty. You are peeved because you can't make the Freshman football team, and, of course, I don't blame you, but try not to be jealous of me."

Frank laughed. "Go it, old bird," he said. "We're too fond of you to be jealous, but remember the old proverb: 'Pride goeth before a fall!'"

"Watch me," said the Codfish. "Proverbs don't fit my case," and the Codfish busied himself over a pile of correspondence.

"Why such industry?" inquired Turner, after a few minutes of silence broken only by the scratching of the Codfish's pen.

"Read it in the News, my son. I'm going to have a red-hot scoop to-morrow."

"Let us in on it."

"Not on your life."

"Has it anything to do with prehistoric horses?"

"Nothing at all. Better than that. This one will make them all sit up and take notice. There ought to be about ten thousand words credit in this one. I can see the road clear to an editorship on that ancient and honorable sheet. When I get on the Board, I'll see to it that all football games are very carefully reported, and that your glaring mistakes are not brought out too prominently."

"Thanks, very much," said Turner, laughing. "You're a confident little rooster. For a man who talks so much you get very little into that same News, it seems to me."

"I'll bet you I can get a front page article to-morrow."

"I'm not a betting man," said Turner. "Moreover I don't want to take your money."

"Quitter," retorted the Codfish. "I'll bet you for fun, money or beans."

"I haven't had any fun for the last three weeks. I have no money, and beans are scarce."

"Then I'll show you, anyway. Read the News in the morning," and grabbing a handful of manuscript the Codfish dashed out the door, slamming it vigorously behind him as was his habit.

An hour later, just as the boys were about to turn in for the night, Jim, the University officer, pushed the door open and entered.

"Hello, boys," said the officer, seating himself in a big armchair and puffing with the climb of three flights of stairs. "Do you have a fellow named Gleason rooming here, a News heeler?"

"Sure," said Frank, "that's the Codfish."

"Yes, yes," said the officer. "Well, he's been pinched."

"What, arrested?"

"Sure thing. He's down at the lock-up now. Captain just telephoned me to see if I could locate his friends."

"What was he up to?"

"Riding a bicycle on the Chapel street sidewalk."

"But he has no bicycle, it would be too much like work for him to ride one."

"Well, he must have borrowed it then, because he was pulled in by one of the city men for breaking the ordinance against riding on the sidewalk."

"The nut," ejaculated Turner. "He should have known better than that."

"We've got to get him out of hock," said Frank.

"I guess you will if he gets out to-night," returned the officer, laughing, "and it takes about fifty dollars bail to do it."

The boys looked at each other, aghast. "Fifty dollars!" they said. "That's a lot of money."

"Take up a collection," suggested the officer, "and I'll go down to the station with you. It has got to be cash. They won't accept checks for bail, you know."

Frank and Jimmy brought forth their rolls, but when they had laid all their cash on the table they were still short a matter of twenty-five dollars. In this emergency David Powers was called upon across the hall, and he advanced the necessary funds.

At the Police Headquarters they found the Codfish installed in the Captain's room, writing industriously.

"Just in time," said the Captain. "I was just going to put him in the cooler. I think he ought to spend the night with us, anyway. Teach him a lesson."

The Codfish continued his writing unconcernedly for a minute, sighed with satisfaction, folded up the paper and put it in his pocket. "When the formalities are complied with, I'll go along with you. Have you got the bail?" he said to Frank, who was gazing at him in amazement.

The money was soon paid over, and the Codfish was released from the grip of the law with instructions to be on hand for the opening of the city court at nine o'clock the next morning.

"You crazy nut," said Jimmy, on the way up to Pierson Hall. "How did you come to get pinched?"

"Method in my madness, old top. Let's swing around to the News office. I've got a couple of articles for them, two more scoops."

"And what are they?"

"O, read the News in the morning," said the Codfish, joyfully. "You wouldn't understand the workings of the genius mind like this," tapping his forehead, "if I told you."

The boys swung over to Elm street, and the Codfish handed in two articles at the News office, and then went along with his friends. "It always gives me a feeling of deep exhaustion to see those heelers working so hard on that sheet."

"Do they work hard?" inquired Frank.

"Work hard! Great fishes of the vasty deep, they put in an amount of hours that ought to make you football fellows blush with shame, if you could blush. The ordinary news-heeler doesn't have time to eat his meals."

"You don't cut out many, I notice," laughed Jimmy.

"Yes, but I'm not the ordinary kind."

"I've heard you say that before."

"These other fellows chase little bits of things for news' sake, while I create news for my sake. Get the difference?"

"Right—O," said Frank. "You created some the other day—some bone news."

"'Still harping on my daughter,' as one William Shakespeare said some moons since? Can't you give that a rest and turn your mind to the present? Never worry about the dead past, is my motto. Even Napoleon made mistakes, to say nothing of Turner, eh Jimmy?"

Reaching the Pierson room, the Codfish threw himself into a big chair and sighed luxuriously. "Great day's work. Although I started late on this competition I must be nearly up to the leader now, and a little more hustling will shoot me to the front."

"What an ego!" exclaimed Frank. "But now in the privacy of our own room, will you kindly tell me, why, how and what for did you get yourself in the hands of the law to-night, whose bicycle was it you borrowed, and when are we going to get the money we advanced to release your worthless carcass from hock?"

"My, what a lot of questions. Do you mean to tell me you haven't visioned my scheme, a bright young fellow like you? Pshaw, pshaw, Armstrong, I didn't think it of you."

"Go ahead and elucidate, Sherlock Holmes!"

"It seems hardly necessary, but it is said, and truly I now