Nearer and louder grew the sound, till the hum became a shout, and the shout a roar, as through the great gate of Templeton three small travel-stained figures trotted gamely into the Quad, with elbows down and heads up.
They hardly seemed to hear the cheers or notice the crowd, but kept their faces anxiously towards where Cresswell—book in hand—stood at the door of Westover’s to receive them.
“Have you run right through?” he asked as they came up.
“Yes, every step,” gasped Dick.
Five minutes later, the “Firm” was in bed and fast asleep.
And two days later, when the revised list of candidates eligible for election to the “Select Sociables” was displayed on the library door, it included the names of Richardson, Heathcote, and Coote.