"Yes, sir."
"Well, wish you good luck," said Rogers, with a more appraising eye. "You've got an opening this year. Drop in and see me sometime, will you? I mean it."
"See you later, Stover," said Hunter, resting his hand on his shoulder with a little friendly touch.
"Bully you're with us," said Stone.
"Come in and chin a little later," said Logan.
Saunders gave him a duck of the head, with unconcealed admiration in his embarrassed manner.
McCarthy went with them. Stover, left alone, measured the length of the room, smiling to himself. It was all quite amusing, especially when his was the fixed point of view.
In a few moments Le Baron arrived. Together they went across the campus, now swarming like ant runs. At every step Le Baron was halted by a greeting. Recognition was in the air, turbulent, boyish, exaggerated, rising to the pitch of a scream or accomplished in a bear dance; and through it all was the same vibrant, minor note of the ceaseless activity.
It was the air Stover loved. He waited respectfully, while Le Baron shook a score of hands, impatient for the moment to begin and the opportunity to have his name told from lip to lip.
"I'm going to be captain at Yale," he said to himself, with a sudden fantastic, grandiloquent fury. "I will if it's in me."