“He will be sorry to miss you, I know,” said Miss Nettie, “and you must come again soon.”
“I will, thank you,” was my response. “Good night, Miss Nettie.”
“Good night,” she responded; “and tell Mr. Wendell that we are sorry the game came out so badly.”
CHAPTER XXIV
A TURN OF LUCK
I had not retraced my footsteps far when I heard Professor Fuller’s gate open and close. Evidently the caller had taken his departure, and from the manner in which he was following me, I felt confident he must be one of the students. He was walking at about the same pace that I was, keeping some fifty yards behind me. At the entrance to the college grounds I paused long enough for him to come up.
It was Len Howard. He either did not see me, or did not want to notice me, for he was going past me with his head bent toward the ground.
“Hullo, Howard,” I said.
He looked up quickly. His face was somewhat pale and worn; his expression grave and thoughtful.
“Hullo, Elder,” he answered.