“Well, they’re mighty nasty,” grumbled the other. “He stretched a string across the room yesterday and hung his films on it and they dripped all over my books!”
Willard retraced his steps to Haylow, very much at a loose end, and gloomed in the darkness until Martin returned and switched the light on. After supper that evening Bob and Calvin came up and the four listened to the singing and cheering that floated faintly across from Memorial Hall where the final football mass meeting was being held, and talked desultorily about the game and Alton’s prospects of victory. “They say,” remarked Cal, “that faculty’s holding a special meeting this evening and that Rowlandson may not play tomorrow.”
“What’s the matter with Rowly?” asked Martin.
“Back in his studies, they say.”
“I guess it’s just a scare,” said Martin. “Who said that faculty was meeting?”
“Harry Johnson told me. I think it’s so, too, for I saw the windows of Mac’s room all lighted up.”
“What of it? That doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re after Rowlandson,” said Bob. “That would be about the last straw!”
“You hear a lot of silly yarns like that just before the game,” said Martin. “Fellows get so excited they’ll tell you anything.”
“I wish I were excited,” muttered Bob. “Gee, it’s funny to think of the game being played tomorrow and not getting into it!”
“Not even seeing!” added Cal.