Bonbright turned and looked at the speaker with curiosity awakened as
to the man's personality. The man was young--under thirty, and
handsome in a black, curly, quasi-foreign manner.

Bonbright turned his eyes from the man to the girl at his side. "He
looks--" said Bonbright.

"How?" she asked, when it was apparent he was not going to finish.

"As if," he said, musingly, "he wouldn't be the man to call on for a
line smash in the last quarter of a tough game."

Suddenly the speech came to an end, and the crowd poured on.

"Good night," said the girl. "I must find Mr. Dulac. I promised I
would walk home with him."

"Good night," said Bonbright. "His name is Dulac?"

"Yes."

Men like Dulac--the work they were engaged upon--had not fallen
within the circle of Bonbright's experience. Bonbright's training and
instincts had all been aristocratic. At Harvard he had belonged to
the most exclusive clubs and had associated with youths of training
similar to his. In his athletics there had been something democratic,
but nothing to impress him with democracy. Where college broadens
some men by its contacts it had not broadened Bonbright, for his
contacts had been limited to individuals chipped from the same strata
as himself. ... In his home life, before going to college, this had