Caroline shrank a little but faced him.
"Your pin," she said, pointing to his vest, "I saw it when you held
your arm up."
The man sank back in his chair and fingered the little jeweled badge
unconsciously.
"Well, of all the cute ones ... so you've seen this before?" he
suggested.
"Of course I have--my brother has one, and my Uncle Joe and Uncle
Lindsay and Cousin Lindsay and Cousin Joe."
"All went to Yale?" he inquired.
"Lindsay and Joe are there now--they're seniors," she informed him.
"The General's going when he grows up. All the Holts go there.
Grandfather Holt went."
"You don't say," said the man, bending forward in genuine interest,
"I guess it's a pretty good college, eh?"
"The best of them all," she assured him.
"I'll tell you an awful funny thing," she went on abruptly, "you
know all the Holts look alike. Well, when Uncle Lindsay first went
to Yale, he was walking along the Campus, and right by Old South
Middle he met the President. And the President stopped and said,
'Well, well, I see the race of Holts is not yet extinct. Good
afternoon, sir!' _The President._ And he never saw him before!"
The man shook his head thoughtfully.
"You don't say," he repeated. "Old South Middle--that's it.
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