The Vagabond

Vag was contemplating the gaping hole in the argyle sock, where he was about to commit his bare foot, when his reveries were interrupted by a stealthy knock at the door. "It's open," he purred, in the renowned mellow 100 proof tone, as a mufflered figure sidled in, peering in both directions over the upturned label of a secondhand Brooks Brothers overcoat.

"My pal," said the intruder. Vag had never seen him in his life before. "My very good friend." "I'm broke," replied Vag, out of absent minded instinct, to the knitted set of eyebrows which loomed menaeingly over an opened copy of "General Education in a Eroe Society."

"We Eliot men must hang together," the mysterious visitant went on, as Vag felt uneasily for his collar. "May I?" said the intruder, as he helped himself to the last cigarette on the desk, nestled himself into an easy chair, and removed his tweed wrappings.

"To continue," he continued, as Vag vainly tried to direct his attention to the sock, "we'll need every bit of backing we can enlist. No vote is too unimportant smirk, "Of course, we have to fight a pretty strong set of opponents. We're bucking the Liberal Union, the Lampoon, the Veterans Theater worshop, and the Hasty Pudding, all solid against us. We've got, the Advocate, but they may not unleash their power in time. Of course, you might say we've also got the Society for the Preservation of Free Enterprise. On freedom from enterprises naturally appeals to them. But that Varsity crowd is going to be tough to lick."

Vag nodded sagaciously. "So you want . . . "

"Exactly! Your vote! With enough men like you around, we can pull the Council out of the doldrums and get seats for everybody on the 50-yard line out of the Yale A.A. next Fall. We can write another constitution, get parking space for the Devens Veterans, run's survey on the number of ex-paratroopers who get past their hour exams, and all kinds of big ideas."

"O.K.," grunted Vag. It was getting late, and he had missed half of Morgan already.

"Well, ha-ha, you're either with us or against us, I always say. So I guess you're with us. We can count on you then," said the guest, as he retreated towards the door.

"By the way," Vag interposed enthusiastically, introducing a few more wrinkles into his faultlessly pressed flannels by wiping his moist palms on them. "What's our man's name ...?"

But the only answer Vag could hear was the soft click of an Eliot House door.