"Yes, sir."
"Good. Wookey, listen to me. I'm a quitter, you understand. I've fought fight—good fight—big fight—real democracy—'n then I lost nerve. I'm wrong; I'm all wrong. I know it. Fault's with me, not what fought for. Wookey, listen to me. Le Baron's wrong, all wrong, you understand; doesn't know—realize—see."
"Yes, sir," said Wookey, in terror and complete incomprehension.
"I'm fool—big fool, but that's over, y'understand. Never give Le Baron chance say again what he did to-night. 'M going fight again—good fight. An' no one's ever going say saw me like this again, y'understand."
"Yes, sir," said the freshman weakly, terrified at the passion that showed in Stover, rocking before the mantelpiece.
"Last time they ever get me this way!"
The green shaded lamp was burning on the table before him.
"The last time—by God," he said, and lifting his fist he drove it through the shattering glass, reeled, and stretched insensible on the floor.
On the following night, a Saturday, Kelly, Buck Waters, and McNab at Mory's set up a shout of welcome as Stover came in quietly: