The cheer, gathering momentum, went crashing above the noises of the street. The college burst into a mighty shout of acclaim—another class was born!
Suddenly ahead the dancing lights of the senior torches began to undulate. Through the mass a hoarse roar went rushing, and a sudden muscular tension.
"Grab hold of me."
"Catch my arm."
"Grip tight."
"Get in line."
"Move up."
"Get the swing."
Stover found himself, arms locked over one another's shoulders, between Schley, who had somehow kept persistently near him, and a powerful, smiling, blond-haired fellow who shouted to him:
"My name's Hungerford—Joe Hungerford. Glad to know you. Down from Groton."