and the applicant said he desired very much to be put with the Rovers.
So he can go with you, if you wish it."

"Who was the applicant?" asked Dick quickly.

"John A. Powell. He said he was an old school chum of yours at Putnam
Hall and had been on a treasure hunt with you during the past summer."

"Songbird!" cried Dick, and his face broke out in a smile. "Oh, that's
good news! It suits me perfectly."

"Did you call the young man Songbird?" queried the house master.

"Yes, that's his nickname."

"Then he must be a singer."

"No, he composes poetry--or at least verses that he calls poetry,"
answered the eldest Rover.

"I wish some more of the old Putnam Hall crowd were coming," put in
Sam. "Think of having Hans Mueller here!" And the very idea made him
grin.

"Hans isn't fit for college yet, Sam. But there may be others," added
Dick hopefully.

They soon reached the dormitory, located across the campus from the
main building and followed the house master up-stairs and to rooms
No. 25 and 26. Each was bright, clean and cheerful, with big windows