A long, measured cheer followed the last strain, and then came silence. No, not silence, for Leonard was close to the building now and could hear at intervals a word or two. Some one was speaking. There was a sudden burst of applause, quickly suppressed. Then he was entering the library. The long room with its mellow warmth and its two rows of cone-shaped green shades was deserted save for the presence in a corner of a small freshman hunched absorbedly over a book. Leonard paused outside the door, suddenly distasteful of libraries and books. Then he turned back and went down the steps again. It was far nicer outdoors, he thought. He would cross the grass to River street and walk around by Academy and Meadow to the farther gate. Probably by the time he reached the room again Slim would have returned, and then he could go to bed. Not, however, that bed held any great appeal, for he was quite sure he wouldn’t be able to get to sleep for hours. Short of the first street light, that on the corner, he descried a shape ahead of him. Some one else, it appeared, scorned indoors to-night. The shape was tall and broad, and Leonard suspected one of the faculty, perhaps Mr. Screven, and hoped that he could get by without having to say more than “Good evening.” He couldn’t imagine anything more deadly than being obliged to loll along and listen to Mr. Screven’s monotonous voice. But, a few paces behind now, he saw that the solitary pedestrian was not Mr. Screven, was not, indeed, a faculty at all, but Gordon Renneker. CHAPTER XXI RENNEKER EXPLAINS Leonard was still assimilating that fact when Renneker turned and recognized him in the light of the corner lamp. “Hello, Grant,” said the big fellow. There seemed to Leonard a tone of almost friendliness in that greeting. “Hello,” he answered. He wanted to add something else, something about the weather, but it wouldn’t come. It was the other who supplied the conventional observation. “Corking night,” said Renneker. “It looks like a fine day for the game to-morrow.” They were side by side now. Leonard wondered whether he should go on, maintaining his own pace, or slow down and suit his steps to Renneker’s. It was sort of embarrassing, he thought. He agreed about the weather and Renneker spoke again. “I suppose you’re trying to walk them off,” he said. “Walk them off?” echoed Leonard. There seemed nothing to do save fall in step with the other. “Nerves,” explained Renneker. “Guess that’s what I’m doing myself.” “Oh,” said Leonard a bit sheepishly. “Yes, I--I guess I am. At least, I suppose it’s nerves. Slim wanted me to go to the mass meeting, but I sort of hated being with that howling mob to-night.” “Exactly.” They had reached the corner and with one consent turned now and went slowly along Academy street. “Funny how panicky you can get the night before a game,” mused Renneker. Leonard laughed incredulously. “I can’t imagine you ever getting like that,” he said.