It seemed too good to be true, and as he turned away to dash a sponge across his face his eyes got leaky again, and it took him a long time to get through with the towel and find his cap. Then he was following Simms down the stairs and along the walk and through the entrance to Whitson, alive with students awaiting the result of the election. As the two pushed their way through, the fellows fell back for them, cheering and shouting, laughing and joking. Kendall followed the quarter as in a daze. The big door opened, and he saw the long table spread in the middle of the hall and lined on each side with the fellows. There was Merriwell at the head and John Payson at the foot, turning at the sound of the opening door, and Perky Davis, and, yes, Andy Ryan, too, and all the other fellows between, talking and laughing as though Yardley had really won! Kendall faltered at the door, but Simms dragged him on. “Got him, fellows!” he announced, pushing Kendall forward into the flood of light about the table. “Found him sound asleep, and almost had to kick the door in!” “Hello, Burtis, you old top!” shouted Girard. “Everything’s eaten up, Burtis!” cried Marion. Kendall found himself pushed into a chair between Simms and Adler. Everyone was talking at him, laughing at him, it seemed, and, wonder of wonders, every face was kindly! If an expression of doubt crept now and then into Merriwell’s countenance as he glanced at the newcomer, Kendall didn’t see it. Nor did he discern that Coach Payson was viewing him in a half-puzzled way. For a space, in fact, he saw very little. Eager hands passed him things and piled his plate high and Kendall pecked at the viands, too happy to really eat. But after a while he began to hear what was going on about him. They were still talking over the game, but the former despondency was all gone. Rather, they were slightly boastful now! Plant, in high spirits, was explaining loudly what would have happened if one tiny, infinitesimal thing――Kendall couldn’t make out just what it was――had been different. “Why, in that case, we’d have knocked the green sawdust out of ’em!” declared Plant. And he appealed to Mr. Payson for confirmation. The coach smiled and nodded. Holmes was already predicting the horrible fate that awaited Broadwood next year. “Next year” seemed the keynote now. Simms and Adler talked in front of Kendall, and had a hot discussion over some unimportant happening of the day, and threatened each other with fruit knives. There was much noise and confusion, all very jolly and happy. Kendall drank a cup of coffee and nibbled a banana that someone thrust at him, settled contentedly back in his chair, stretched his tired legs under the table and began to see the world through a wonderful mellow, golden haze.