known to them personally, was in itself sufficient to quicken their
pulses and arouse all the dormant forces of their nature. The train was
a long one and yet from every car came pouring forth the stream of
students and the excitement continued for several minutes.

Suddenly a shout went up from the crowd and there was a rush of students
toward the rear car. "There's Baker! Good old Sam! Hurrah for the
captain!" were among the cries that could be heard as the students
surged toward the platform, from which a sturdy young man could be seen
descending, apparently unmindful of the interest his coming had aroused
and striving to be indifferent to the cheers that greeted his arrival.

Will Phelps and Foster Bennett almost unconsciously moved with the
throng though they were not fully aware of the cause of the sudden
interest of the students. "It may be that he's the captain of the
football team," said Will in a low voice to his companion. "At any rate
the captain's name is Baker and probably this is the man."

Foster nodded his head but made no other reply as he stood watching the
young man as he stepped down from the platform. There could be no
question as to who he was, for the conquering hero was writ large upon
his powerful frame and the universal deference of the student body could
be accounted for only by the fact that a leader in Winthrop had arrived.

"Look there, Will," said Foster suddenly. "There's Peter John."

"Where?"

"Right behind Baker. Just coming out of the door. See him?"