disconsolately and silently behind them.

It was trying afterwards to stand by and see those blue-bedecked
invaders form into long-linked lines and dance their serpentine of
victory on St. Timothy’s ground. It was trying to stand by and watch
barge after barge bedecked with blue roll away while the occupants
shouted and waved their hats—and left the field to silence and despair.

But still St. Timothy’s did not abandon the scene of their defeat. They
waited loyally in front of the athletic house to welcome and console
their team when it should emerge. Collingwood led the players out, and
the crowd gave them a good one.

Collingwood said, with a smile, though in an unsteady voice, “Much
obliged, fellows,” and waved his hand.

Then the crowd dispersed; slowly they all walked away.

That evening, as Irving was about to leave his room to go down to
supper, a boy brought him a telegram. It was from his brother; it said,—

“We licked them, twelve to six. Feeling fine. Lawrence.”

At the table Irving tried not to appear too happy. He apologized for his
state of mind and told the boys the cause; those who, like Carroll, were
Harvard sympathizers derived a little cheer from the news, and the
others seemed indifferent to it. Westby was not there. The training
table was vacant, and at the other tables were empty chairs where
substitutes on the team had sat. Mrs. Barclay was entertaining the
football players.