Dick’s retirement from the hall took on the nature of an ovation. Many of the fellows pushed their way across to shake hands with him, to tell him “It was hot stuff, Dick!” to form a laughing, excited escort for him to the door. Louise Brent met him on the way out. “It was splendid!” she declared warmly. “I’m so glad, Dick!” Toby Sears, too, reached him before he had left the hall, and slapped him on the shoulder. “That was good plain talk, Dick, and we needed it,” he said. Dick went off in the runabout with George Cotner, while Gordon and Morris, waiting on the steps for the crowd to leave, reviewed events with much chuckling. “He did just the right thing,” said Gordon. “If he had been apologetic and tried to explain things and made promises they’d have roasted him and probably voted to take the matter to the Committee.” “Surest thing you know,” agreed Morris. “He took just the right line with ’em.” “You bet he did! He just――just edified them! And now he’s got them eating out of his hand! It was a regular stampede!” “I’ll bet Carter and Bingham and some of those others are as mad as hornets,” chuckled Morris. “It won’t do them any good, though.” “Not a bit. Dick’s got a big majority with him now. Bet you we could lose every other game except Springdale and not hear a yip out of any of them! Dick’s a wonder, Morris. He always seems to know what to do, doesn’t he?” “He certainly does. He’s what you call a born leader, Dick is. I wish this bunch would hurry up and go. It’s almost a quarter past nine, and I told Stuart to get here at half-past. I hope he doesn’t show up before the crowd gets away.” “Oh, they’ll be gone in a minute. Where is Louise?” “She and Nell have gone over to Miss Turner’s to get the key to the office. They’ll be back at half-past. I sort of wish they’d put that electric light out on the corner. If Mr. Grayson happened to go by and saw us unloading stuff――――” “He’s not likely to, I guess. He lives at the other end of town. Hello, Jim. Oh, we’re just communing with Nature. It sure was some meeting. Good night!” The last of the audience left the building and presently quiet fell, broken finally by the sound of the janitor’s steps on the stairs. “That you, Owen?” called Morris. “The load’s coming in about fifteen minutes. We’d better unpack the things inside, hadn’t we? Can you leave a light here at the doorway?” “Yes,” was the reply. “I’ll leave this one goin’ and the one around the corner.” The janitor, a sturdy young Irishman, came to the door and peered out. “Who’s that with you, Mr. Brent?” he asked. “Gordon Merrick. My sister and Miss Sawin are coming in a few minutes. I guess it will take all of us to move the desk in, eh?” “A couple of us can manage it, sir. I’ve got my broom and dustpan here to clear up afterwards. There’s some one coming now, ain’t there?” “Those are the girls,” said Gordon. “What time is it?”