“Doubtless you have heard rumors of the crisis in our affairs,” went on the president, after taking off his glasses, slowly wiping them, and replacing the frames back of his ears, over which the white locks fell. “Whatever you have heard I beg of you to disregard to this extent, that you do not repeat it. In evil times words increase trouble. I will tell you the truth as nearly as I and the gentlemen associated with me can come at it.
“Randall College, as you know, was built many years ago. The land was purchased from a fund left by a gentleman who had the good of the youth of this land at heart. Other endowments enabled buildings to be put up. In all these years no hint of trouble has come to us, but now we are confronting a fact, not a theory, as your political science teaches you.
“The land whereon Randall and the various buildings stand, yes, where there is laid out the fields for the pursuit of baseball and football, and I think I am right in assuming this to be the football season?”
The president paused, and glanced questioningly at the proctor, whom he evidently took for an authority on sports. For Dr. Churchill, while an enthusiastic supporter of every team in the college, knew rather less about the various terms, and times of games than the average baby. The proctor nodded in acquiescence.
“Even the very football field is under suspicion,” continued the president, and there was another great sigh, mainly from that section of the chapel where sat Tom and his chums. “In fact the entire ground on which the college is built has been claimed by outsiders.
“The facts, in brief, are these: When the land was purchased there were several persons who had interests therein. From them releases, in the form of quit-claim deeds, were obtained, and then it was thought that the corporation of Randall had a clear title. Now it develops that a certain Simon Hess was one of the persons who gave a quit-claim deed, after being paid for his share in the land.
“That deed, I regret to say, can not be found, and in the absence of it, it is as if it never existed. Simon Hess is dead, but he left several heirs, and they are now making a claim against the college. Perhaps they might not be so eager, were it not for certain lawyers who are apparently urging them on.
“An attempt was made to settle with them when they made their claim known, but the lawyers insisted that their clients prosecute their suits, and so the hope of compromise was abandoned. It seems that they want the life’s blood of our college, and, as you know, we are not a wealthy institution.
“Yesterday I received from Mr. Franklin Langridge, the lawyer who represents the claimants, a demand for a large cash settlement if their claim was abandoned. I need hardly say that Randall is in no position to pay a large amount in cash. I called a meeting of the faculty, and we came to that conclusion. I have so notified Mr. Langridge.”
At the first mention of that name there had been an uneasy movement among the students. At its repetition, when it was whispered around that this was the father of Fred Langridge, the former bully of the college, the movement became more pronounced.