were not stilled until some one arose and announced that the
president-elect was not in the hall. Paul, after a glance of
bewilderment at Neil, had sat silent in his chair with something between
a sneer and a scowl on his face. Now he jumped up.

"Come on; let's get out of here," he muttered. "They act like a lot of
idiots." Neil followed, and they found themselves in a pushing throng at
the door. The chairman was vainly clamoring for some one to put a motion
to adjourn, but none heeded him. The crowd pushed and shoved, but made
no progress.

"Open that door," cried Paul.

"Try it yourself," answered a voice up front. "It's locked!"

A murmur arose that quickly gave place to cries of wrath and
indignation. "The sophs did it!" "Where are they?" "Break the door
down!" Those at the rear heaved and pushed.

"Stop shoving, back there!" yelled those in front. "You're squashing us
flat."

"Everybody away from the door!" shouted Neil. "Let's see if we can't get
it open." The fellows finally fell back to some extent, and Neil, Paul,
and some of the others examined the lock. The key was still there, but,
unfortunately, on the outside. Breaking the door down was utterly out of
the question, since it was of solid oak and several inches thick. The
self-appointed committee shook its several heads.

"We'll have to yell for the janitor," said Neil. "Where does he hang