“We only heard as much as you did,” echoed his brother.
“Prexy will make an announcement at chapel to-morrow morning, if there’s anything in it,” declared Dutch Housenlager.
“Then I wish it was chapel time now,” murmured Phil. “I don’t like this suspense.”
“Me either,” declared Sid.
“Well, there’s one consolation,” put in Frank Simpson. “If it’s got anything to do with the law there’s no present danger that the college will be torn down—not before the football season is over, anyhow.”
“Why not?” demanded Tom.
“Because the law is so slow. If it’s a question of title to land it can go through several courts before it’s definitely decided. I know because my father’s a lawyer, and he’s had several cases of disputed titles.”
“Well, there’s something in that,” declared Phil. “But I don’t like to think of old Randall being in any kind of danger. It makes me uneasy.”
The talk became general, and there were many speculations as to what the trouble really was, and what the outcome would be. The conversation continued after our friends had gone to their room, whither flocked a number of their chums to discuss the situation. For the time being football was forgotten, and the trouble of Randall held the centre of the stage.
“Well, there’s no use worrying about a bridge, until you hear the rustle of its wings,” said Sid at length.