"Well, as far as I'm concerned," said Paul, "I don't see any use in
putting it off. I'm willing--"

Neil jumped to his feet. A burst of martial music swept up to them as
the school band, followed by a host of their fellows, turned the corner
of the building.

"Come on, Paul," he cried; "get your coat on. Mr. Brill will excuse us
if we leave him; we mustn't keep the fellows waiting. And we can think
the matter over, eh, Paul? And we'll let him know in the morning. Here's
your coat. Good-night, sir, good-night." He was holding the door open
and smiling politely. Paul, scowling, arose and shook hands with the
Robinson emissary. Neil kept up a steady stream of talk, and his chum
could only mutter vague words about his pleasure at Mr. Brill's call and
about seeing him to-morrow. When the door had closed behind him the
coach stood a moment in the hall and thoughtfully buttoned his coat.

"I think I've got Gale all right," he said to himself, "but"--with a
slight smile--"the other chap was too smart for me. And, confound him,
he's just the sort we need!"

When he reached the entrance he was obliged to elbow his way through a
solid throng of shouting youths who with excited faces and waving caps
and flags informed the starlight winter sky over and over that they
wanted Gale and Fletcher, to which demand the band lent hearty if rather
discordant emphasis.

* * * * *

A good deal happened in the next two hours, but nothing that is